“Niffy’s up behind me now,” Willow added as she became aware of a discreet presence under her riding cloak. She tucked the edges in under her legs to provide a safer purchase for the cat. She also felt a lot braver with Niffy entering with them.
Alieutenant and three soldiers escorted them through the silent city—every edifice and most homes showing the black cloth of national mourning—to the palace where even lamp standards were dimmed. Not a word was spoken.
They were taken to the guard post, not the main entrance which was closed by the most enormous, and vulgar, black wreath.
“I thought the captain understood.…” the portly officer in charge began as they were announced to him.
“Now, Major Hurell,” Countess Solesne said in an admonitory tone, “did you think the princess and baroness would be so lacking in respect for the royal house of Mauritia that they would not hurry to her majesty’s side to provide what comfort they could?”
“Oh, I didn’t—I mean, I had no idea—”
“We came instantly the news reached us,” Willow said, once again taking an initiative.
“Yes, of course you would, your highness,” the major said, bowing like a bobbing toy. “It is just the sort of thing you would do.” The major had commanded the palace guard the whole time Willow, Laurel, and their mother had been required to live there. “Sad times, indeed, with both the king and Prince Geroge gone. Both in their prime. We’ve had such bad luck in Mauritia.” He shook his head.
“And the new young princeling…”
“You refer to his majesty, King Egdril the Second?”
“Of course.” Willow took that in her stride and decided not to ask to be shown to Prince Mavron even before she felt claws press against her right side. She had bundled its fold so that no one would be likely to suppose she carried a cat there. “His majesty thrives?”
“Of course,” the major said with a sort of huffing of his full cheeks as he nervously stroked his side-whiskers.
“Perhaps we should go directly to the Duchess Insaphar, Salinah? Is she here?”
“Where else would she be?”
No one challenged that, especially since the major now gave orders for them to be escorted to the palace.
Inside, the palace was colder than a morgue and darker. Not a painting, portrait, or objet d’art but wasn’t draped in sable. Their footsteps echoed through corridors, totally devoid of petitioners and minor officials.
“She can’t have killed them all off?” Laurel murmured to her sister.
“Silence, please,” the young and officious lieutenant whispered over his shoulder at them.
They went through the public rooms and up the long flight of stairs that branched at the top. A row of guards stood across the right hand turning which would lead into the royal quarters. So they took the left-hand side where only two men stood sentinel. They immediately crossed their shrouded pike heads to prevent entry.
“Who goes there?”
“Lieutenant of the Palace Guard and three female visitors.”
“The Princess of Esphania, the Baroness Illify, and the Countess Solesne,” the countess said in a low but intense voice, designed to make the callow quiver. “To see Baroness Salinah.”
“Wait here,” said one of the flunkies.
“We will not,” the countess said and, flipping up the pikes, walked determinedly down the hall, her two former charges following as purposefully.
“I say, there, you can’t do that…” the lieutenant called after them.
“We can and we have,” muttered the countess, flouncing her riding skirt as she lengthened her stride.
Their footsteps echoed in the halls and, when they passed the first door, they were conscious of its being opened a crack and then closed.
“Has she got everyone kennelled up like so many disobedient children?” Willow murmured, appalled that a once bustling palace was reduced to the silence of the crypt.
“And where is Mavron? He should ascend the throne, not a baby,” said Laurel.
“Nonsense, how else can that woman gain complete control unless she gets herself appointed as regent for her son.”
A muted “MeOW!” issued from Willow’s bundled cloak.
“Yes, I know, Niffy,” the princess said and patted it reassuringly. “She’ll give the word ‘regent’ a bad smell.”
FINALLY they arrived at the entrance to Salinah’s apartment. It was not guarded, so Willow tapped at the door. When there was no answer, she rapped a little more loudly. Pressing her ear against the door, she listened.
“There’s someone in there,” she murmured.
“Then, we shall enter,” the countess said and, turning the handle, pulled open the door. And stopped.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” For a barrier of furniture filled the doorway. “Salinah! It’s Countess Solesne. I’ve come to rescue you.”
“From what are we rescuing her?” Willow asked in surprise.
“Well, it must be something. I can’t really imagine a girl of Salinah’s nature piling all that up unless she’s scared out of her knickers!”
“Who’s there?” a tremulous voice demanded.
“Sollie, with Willow and Laurel,” the countess said and began to dismantle the barricade.
“Willow and Laurel? Oh, my God, they must go immediately. They’re no more safe here than I am,” but the visitors could hear chairs and tables being moved.
Shortly there was a narrow lane free enough for them to squeeze through.
“Close that door,” cried Salinah, sounding more like herself.
“Why don’t you lock it?” Laurel asked but discovered there was no key just as Salinah remarked acidly that no one could lock a door in Castle Mauritia anymore. “And you’re the cause of that!” she said when the three emerged into clearer space.
“And how do you arrive at that conclusion?” Willow asked, surprised. Though she hadn’t thought that anything Salinah said or did could surprise her.
“Locked doors mean subversive activities, of course.”
“And all that pile of furniture isn’t a subversive obstruction.”
“Why are you here? You won’t get out now you’ve got in, you know, and why you came back, I cannot imagine,” said Salinah in her usual manner and then ruined the impression by bursting into tears and collapsing against Willow. “But I’m so glad to see you.”
They got the now hysterical girl calmed down sufficiently to learn why she was barricading herself in her room as best she could.
“Yasmin’s betrothed me to that puling baby!” Salinah was indignant. “She’s put Mavron in jail and is beheading him in the morning.” She wept a little more. “She had filled Egdril’s room with all her little minions. The moment the king expired, she had the prince seized. But he couldn’t not be at his father’s deathbed, could he? And his men were outnumbered, especially when all her guards swarmed in on top of them. Not even Mavron thought she would move that fast. I warned him, but he wouldn’t listen to me. Even when I told him that she’d planned for him to be dead, too, before she finished Egdril off. So what can you possibly do about it?”
“There’s only one thing we can do about it,” Willow said, removing her cloak and releasing Niffy.
Salinah sprang to her feet, jumping back and away from the cat, both hands outstretched in a defensive position.
“You brought that cat?” Her eyes, already dark from weeping and frustration, widened even more at the sight of Niffy shaking her ruffled fur into place. “Are you mad? The queen’ll skewer it the moment she sees it.”
“Ah, but she won’t see it, will she, Salinah?” Willow said. “And the only thing we can do about Yasmin is get rid of her, and that solves the entire problem. Doesn’t it?”
“And how under the twin suns and the triple moons could you possibly do that?” Salinah’s haughty pose once more dissolved into tears. “But that is the only solution, isn’t it?”
“There now,” the countess said, holdin
g the once overly proud baroness in a motherly embrace. “You’ve been very brave, my dear.” Willow and Laurel exchanged surprised glances but decided that Sollie was taking the right tack. “And in such a terrible state. You don’t look as if you’ve eaten…or bathed in days.”
“I haven’t,” sobbed Salinah. “One doesn’t dare. She might be ready to poison me next. And I had to act charmed and pleased that she wanted me to marry that…that awful child of hers. You should see it!” Her face contorted in disgust. “I don’t even think it’s human! It can’t be the king’s! You didn’t bring something to eat, did you?” she asked piteously.
Laurel reached into her travel pouch and brought out some bread and cheese, which Salinah grabbed from her hands and devoured, tearing off pieces and stuffing them into her mouth.
Niffy was now quartering the room, once such a graceful setting for the red-haired duchess. She paused by the fireplace and meowed.
“Sometimes people have no imagination,” Willow said as she went to Niffy’s assistance.
“Well, chimney breasts can supply sufficient room, you know,” the countess said. “And I do know that there’s a warren between the walls of this place. Niffy, will you be all right on your own? It’s a long way over to the royal wing. Shouldn’t you wait for the prince?”
Niffy twitched her tail expressively.
“I don’t think Jamas is included in her plans,” Willow said, feeling along the ornate moulding for a loose section. “Ah,” and she twisted the portion. Slowly a panel beside her swung open.
“Not the fireplace,” Laurel said.
Willow looked inside. “Dark.”
“That’s where Niffy’s invaluable,” Laurel said.
“Good luck, dear,” Willow said as the cat, tail tip idly moving, made her way into the hidden passage. “And don’t get hurt!” she added. She did not quite close the panel. “Just in case we don’t hear her when she returns. That’s a thick panel.”
“Didn’t you think to store up any provisions for yourself?” Sollie asked Salinah, who was slumped in the corner of the one couch still available to be used for its original function.
“Of course, but they’re all gone.”
“Surely she’s not starving all the people…” the countess began.
“I can’t trust anyone,” Salinah said sullenly, finding a stray crumb in her lap. She wet a fingertip and transferred it to her mouth.
“She can’t have poisoned the water…” The countess indicated Salinah’s gown which looked as if the girl had not changed it in days.
“I wouldn’t put it past her,” came from Salinah.
“Isn’t it fortunate I came prepared, then,” the countess said and, reaching into her own travel pouch, drew out several items.
“More food?”
“No. Antidotes, and litmus papers which will detect the acid of poison.”
“A lot of good that does when I have nothing left to test it on.”
“Surely you can ring for service…”
“And have them discover you all here?” Salinah widened her eyes in contempt for that suggestion.
“When guards escorted us up?” the countess demanded.
“Ohhhhh,” and Salinah actually wailed like a frightened child.
“Well, I am not going any longer without some refreshment,” the countess said and, before Salinah could stop her, went to the bellpull and gave it several yanks.
“They’ll never answer,” Salinah moaned.
A moment later the pneumatic speaking tube whistled a response.
Countess Solesne went to it, opening the cover, and in the clear loud voice needed for orders to reach the subterranean pantries, she announced that the Baroness Salinah required hot water for tea and refreshments for four. “Generous portions,” she added.
“They’ll never come.”
They did, for the dumbwaiter bell rang not five minutes later and, when Willow opened the hatch, they could all hear the squeaking of the platform being hoisted to their level.
“Well, I hope the cook could spare it,” the countess said as she looked at what had been laid out for their consumption. “She is carrying mourning a trifle too far. Especially since she contrived to have so many funerals.”
Salinah hauled the countess away from the hatch as if the words would have carried through the thick wood and down to the pantry.
“Nonsense, Salinah. Get a hold of yourself. You’re the courageous young woman who hunted barguas and boar. What’s happened to you? And thank heavens, the water is hot enough to make a respectable cup.”
“But you don’t dare…”
The countess snorted but took several of her papers out of the packet and tested them against the bread and butter—and not much butter—against the dry Madeira slices, and everything on the tray.
“It’s all safe enough to eat.” And she proceeded to do so, making the tea as well and passing the plates round.
Willow and Laurel ate sparingly to allow Salinah to make up for lost meals, but the countess ate what was a fair share. Only when Salinah reached for the milk pitcher to pour the remainder in her cup did the countess stay her hand.
“Niffy will be thirsty when she returns from those dusty passageways.”
Salinah paused, her face reflecting skepticism as well as indignation. “What makes you so sure the cat will come back? Or get back.”
“As you saw at Vial Woods, she’s a self-reliant personage and a formidable hunter,” Willow said. Then, making a bed of discarded cushions and pillows, she settled herself down for a rest. “I suggest you all follow my example. We might need to be rested for whatever else we have to do today.”
Salinah gave a contemptuous sniff, but the meal had obviously restored her spirits. “Could I have one of those papers of yours, Sollie? I really would like to have a quick bath…if the water’s safe.”
“Of course, my dear,” and Sollie handed one over. Then she followed Willow’s example, as did Laurel, while Salinah indulged herself.
Willow did not sleep although she closed her eyes. She kept wondering what Jamas was doing and if he’d heard about Mavron. She could almost imagine the scene in Egdril’s bedchamber, with Mavron in filial attendance and doubtless, that woman, exuding solicitousness for her dying husband, just waiting until he had been pronounced dead before she entrapped the true heir to the throne. And what was Niffy doing now? Even a long-legged clever cat person would require a long time to reach the royal apartments and penetrate rooms which were most assuredly well guarded. And what did Niffy plan to do once she had entered that woman’s rooms? Or, more to the point, what did Mangan hope to achieve by such a surreptitious entry?
In spite of her worrisome thoughts, Willow did fall asleep. So did the other three women.
What awakened her was something delicately nibbling her ear.
“Niffy?” Willow hugged the cat to her in an excess of relief. Another noise made her sit bolt upright, for through the wide-open panel came the dark shadows of large figures.
“Ssst, Willow, it’s me!” Jamas’ unmistakable whisper reassured her. Though what she could have done to prevent deadly intruders, Willow didn’t know.
“How did you find Niffy?”
“Oh, she found us,” Jamas said, hunkering down by his wife and running a loving finger along her face. “You’re all right?”
“Jamas, you must save Mavron. She’s going to behead him tomorrow.”
“Said and done,” Jamas said with a low laugh.
That was enough to waken Salinah, who sat up, saw all the dark figures, and opened her mouth to scream. The man nearest her clapped a hand across her mouth and nearly lost his grip when she bit him and kicked out savagely. But he had the advantage of position.
“Easy, Salinah,” Jamas said, “it’s one of Moxtell’s lads. He won’t harm you, but we really don’t need to broadcast our arrival, now do we? Mavron, reassure the duchess,”
“I’ll light some candles, shall I?” Laurel said, rising
and doing so. “Phewww, what is that smell?” she asked, sniffing.
“I suspect it is me,” Mavron said.
“Oh, your poor hands,” Salinah said, reaching for them so that all saw the cruel marks manacles had gouged in his wrists. “You come with me. She hasn’t poisoned the water, and I’ve some salve that will ease these immediately.”
The others watched as Salinah led Mavron off to minister to him.
“How did Niffy find you? Where did she find you?”
Jamas chuckled as he settled down on the couch, pulling Willow beside him. “Rather a long story, and the night is not over yet. I’m happy to say that there are many Mauritians who are not pleased with the recent events. And were delighted to find someone who might adjust matters.
“We found the postern gate and also some interesting comings and goings.” He chuckled. “So we joined forces with those determined to restore the throne to its rightful claimant. They knew all the back ways and, since we had a superior force, we overwhelmed the dungeon guards and released Mavron. We got as far as the kitchens—here we also discovered more like minded folk—when who bursts upon the scene but Niffy here.”
“What was she doing in the kitchens?” Willow said, bending an accusatory stare on the cat, who was vigorously washing her dirty paws.
“Hungry, I imagine. We were,” Jamas said, flipping open his cape on the floor and displaying a variety of foods, including a whole roasted fowl, breads, fruits, cheeses, and a flagon of wine.
“All we got was dry bread and cake,” Willow said, reaching first for the flagon to wet her throat while Jamas neatly severed a leg from the fowl and handed it to her. “Oh, this is good,” she muttered around the drumstick. She offered a sliver to Niffy. The cat was prowling back and forth from Jamas to the still-open panel.
“I think she wants us to move now,” Jamas said with a sigh and rose. Willow did, too. He tried to push her back down.
“I’m coming with you!”
Jamas held up his hands defensively at her purposeful tone. “If you insist.”
“I do,” she said and stripped off her riding skirt since she could move more easily in the britches she wore underneath.
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