Castle of Shadows (6 page)

She looked up at him. His face gave away nothing. ‘It’s about more than just schooling, isn’t it?’ He raised an eyebrow. He was testing her, and it seemed suddenly very important that she pass this test. ‘Is it because of what wetalked about?’ she asked. ‘M-my father?’ She looked down at the remains of the last biscuit crumbling between her clenched fingers, no longer hungry.

‘Yes, Charlie.’ She looked up and saw that her answer had pleased him. It was a heady feeling. For the first time in years, she remembered what it was like to want another person’s approval. Alistair Windlass did not, she imagined, grant his lightly. ‘Your father is unable to act as head of state. When he first became ill, that mattered less. But in the last few years the economic and political situation in Quale has changed. It becomes increasingly urgent that the people remember there is a Qualian monarch. That is why I moved into your father’s office a
few years ago. To connect the governing power with the Castle, and hence the monarchy. I have been acting as unofficial Regent. But you are old enough now to begin to represent your father.’

He leant forward, and his eyes glowed with energy. ‘You can be of great service to your country. But you must work hard and learn, so that you can begin to fulfil some of his duties. Under my guidance, of course.

‘Which brings us back to the topic of Etiquette. You are right,’ he said. ‘It is not important in itself. But it is useful. It will make your work and mine easier. It is one of the tools you will use to manage and control those around you.’

She frowned at him. ‘I don’t want to control people.’

‘Very noble,’ said the Prime Minister. ‘But one day you will be Queen of Quale. Part of your job will be to control people. Without government, civilisation descends into chaos. For now, your job is to learn. I’m glad you enjoy Mathematics. It would please your mother. Mathematics was the language she used to explore the world and its mysteries. I hope you will study hard, so that when she returns she will find a daughter of whom she can be proud.’

The hunger she felt had nothing to do with food. ‘Did you know my mother well?’

‘I knew and admired her. I was honoured to count her as one of my closest friends.’

Charlie took a deep breath. ‘What was she like?’

He gazed at the floor as though looking into the past. ‘One of the most brilliant minds I have ever met. A great scientist. She overcame considerable family and social pressures to go to university, you know. I have always thought that it was one of the most imaginative things your father ever did, marrying your mother. The courtiers hated it.’ He looked up with a wry smile, then his face grew solemn. His eyes caught hers and held them. ‘She loved you and your father very much. Never doubt that.’

Charlie blinked. She stared at her hands. The last of the biscuit crumbs dribbled onto the floor. She looked up to see Windlass watching her. His crooked smile was back. It grew teasing. ‘Your mother had a great regard for Etiquette. She also maintained the highest standards of personal cleanliness. She was particularly careful of her fingernails, as I remember.’

This blush was hot and furious. Windlass stood and held out his hand. ‘I must let you go and eat your lunch,’ he said. ‘I would like you to visit me three times a week. I will arrange for you to have your lunch here, with me. You need lessons in Statecraft and, however capable the Professor, I think it best if you receive those from me. Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, after your lessons, if you please.’

He towered over her, tall and elegant. She placed her right hand with its grubby fingernails in his, and the Prime Minister bowed low over it. He raised his head, and his eyes shone like moonstones.

Charlie couldn’t face the idea of the lesser dining room, Alfie, and a dish of congealed mutton. She wanted to be alone to think. She’d be in trouble later, of course. The footman could be counted on to make sure O’Dair knew she hadn’t shown up. But later was later and, after all, there was little the housekeeper could do to her now that the Prime Minister was her friend. The idea was new and extremely delightful. Charlie smiled and began to run along the corridor towards a favourite ground-floor window. She was taking a half-holiday in the gardens.

With the edge of her sleeve, Charlie wiped a peephole in the foggy greenhouse glass and peered inside. Half hidden by a jungle of withered tomato vines, Fossy was seated at a potting bench, his dinner pail in front of him, a battered tin kettle steaming on top of the kerosene heater. After his lunch the gardener would snooze under a horse blanket for at least an hour. That just left Tobias. Charlie took a detour through the kitchen garden, grubbing up a couple of carrots in case she got hungry, and ran on until she came to the overgrown pleasure gardens.

This was where her favourite climbing tree grew. The hornbeam sprawled as wide as it was tall, its lower branches resting massive elbows on the ground. She clambered onto one of these and walked up to the main trunk. She was soon high in the tree, sitting astride a branch. The air was cold; the sun bright. She was safe from Tobias up here. He never climbed trees, not even to chase after her when she managed to ding him with her peashooter.

She was rubbing one of the carrots clean on her sleeve when she spotted him. The carrot crunched between her teeth as she watched him sauntering through the gardens
as though he owned them, whistling an annoying tune. He kicked through drifts of fallen leaves, obviously heading towards the summerhouse, probably to read one of the books he had stolen from her library.

Once he was out of sight, Charlie turned her mind back to the interview with the Prime Minister. He seemed all fine clothes and elegant manners, but she wasn’t fooled. He had reduced Mrs O’Dair to a quivering wreck without even raising his voice. She sighed with happiness at the memory. Alistair Windlass would make a bad enemy. He was an equally impressive friend. He would find her mother. The question was: when?

She was starting on the second carrot when another movement caught her eye. Tobias again? No. This person was wearing the black dress and white apron of a Castle maid. Charlie stopped chewing. The maids were not allowed in the gardens. The woman drew nearer, and Charlie saw that it was the new girl – the one from her mother’s study.

Walking briskly, the maid disappeared in the direction of the summerhouse. Charlie shoved the remains of the carrot in her pocket and shinnied down the tree. Something was going on, and she was going to find out what it was.

Leaf-drift rustled as Charlie waded through it on hands and knees. It had rained last night, and the noise was slightly soggy, as were the knees of her stockings. She crouched at the base of the summerhouse and listened.
Had she been heard? But the voices floating out the broken windows didn’t pause:

‘—need an answer from you, Toby. Are you with us, or not?’

‘I ain’t
with
nobody. You ought to know that by now, Nell. Not the Petches and not your blessed Resistance.’

‘I ain’t working for the Petches! I told you, I broke with Zebediah! None of ’em’ll have anything to do with me now. That’s why I got to earn my own keep.’

‘Better’n thieving.’

‘This ain’t about thieving.’

‘Seems to me that’s exactly what it’s about.’

‘I need your help to get past some locks, Toby. You’re good with locks; the whole Family knows that. Uncle Barty used to say—’

‘Barty’s dead. Leave him out.’

‘Will you help?’

There was a long silence. Charlie’s heartbeat hammered in her head. Who was this Nell? What was all this about Petches? Was Nell Tobias’s relation or a Resistance spy? And what did she want with him?

‘Well?’ the girl’s voice drifted out the window. ‘You can keep yourself to yourself and watch Windlass steal the country out from under us, or you can fight. What’s it gonna be, Toby?’

‘I already said I’d work with you, Nell. I’d work with the Devil himself against that man. But I won’t turn thief
on your say-so. Not unless I know exactly what you’re looking for.’

Another silence. Charlie didn’t dare move in case they heard her. What had Nell meant about the Prime Minister stealing the country?

‘All right.’ Nell’s voice was directly over her head. Charlie’s legs ached with crouching. She began to wobble, and her fingers dug into the ground. She had to hold on! Just a few more minutes.

‘I reckon I’ll have to trust you, Toby. We need your help to break into the Prime Minister’s office. We want information about a new-fangled weapon he’s trying to make. A month ago, one of our spies got inside his laboratory up north. Our man got out alive, but only just. They caught up with him outside Quale and put a bullet in him. He lived long enough to say that it had something to do with the Queen.’

Charlie gasped. Her right foot gave way, and she tumbled headlong into the leaves.

‘Someone’s out there!’ shouted the girl.

Charlie scrabbled to her feet and ran. But her foot had turned into a block of wood. It twisted under her, and she fell. She yelped in pain as her foot exploded with pins and needles. Someone grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet. She stared up into the furious eyes of Tobias Petch.

‘I might have known! Can’t you stop making trouble for five minutes?’ His hand tightened on her arm.

‘Let go!’ she shouted. She stood, glaring at Tobias. Nell
appeared at his side, shock and dismay chasing across her face as she recognised Charlie.

‘How much did you hear, girl?’

‘Don’t you dare call me “girl” you…you
Republican
! I’m Her Royal Highness Princess Charlotte Augusta—’

‘Stow it,’ Tobias said. ‘We know who you are. And you don’t have to look so scared. No one’s gonna hurt you. You startled us, is all.’

‘It ain’t that simple,’ said Nell.

‘No!’ shouted Charlie. ‘You’re Republican spies, both of you! When I tell the Prime Minister, he’ll arrest you! He’ll have you put in prison! He’ll—’

Tobias grabbed her shoulders and shook her. ‘Shut up! You ain’t gonna say one word to that man!’ He spoke slowly and softly, and his eyes held hers like a rat in a trap. ‘I thought you were listening. Didn’t you hear what Nell said? Don’t you understand what it means? Windlass is the reason your mum run off! She ran away from
him
!’

Charlie went very still. The blood was pounding in her head. ‘You’re lying.’

‘I’m not.’ His voice was even quieter.

‘He was my mother’s friend!’ She heard herself gabbling. ‘You’re wrong! He already knew all about her science – what she was working on…he told me…he asked her to do it in the first place! Why would she run away from the Prime Mini—’

‘Told you?’ Tobias’s hands tightened on her arms. His eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean?’

She gawped at him.

‘Spit it out!’ He gave her a shake.

‘What’s going on?’ Nell shouted. ‘Toby?’

‘Did you show it to him, Charlie?’ Tobias’s voice was grim, his face grimmer. ‘
Did you show him the letter?
’

‘What letter?’ said Nell.

Charlie just stared at Tobias. It couldn’t be true! None of it. He must be lying. But he was too shocked, too angry. He was telling her the truth. Which meant…

‘Damn it!’ hissed Tobias. He’d seen her answer in her face. ‘You little idiot! Do you know what you’ve done?’

She was terrified that she did, and she kicked him, hard, on the shin. Tobias yelled and let go, and Charlie ran, faster than she’d ever run in her life. He was after her already, cursing. But she had a head start. She had reached the hornbeam and was halfway up when he arrived, panting and still swearing, at the bottom of the tree.

‘Charlie! Don’t be a fool! Get down here!’

She climbed higher. He wouldn’t follow her, and she needed to be alone. She had to think. She had to deal with the fear trying to swallow her from inside out. She had to think what to do. To fix it. To fix what she’d done.
What
had she done? How could she have been so stupid?
Her eyes were burning. It was hard to see where to put her hands and feet. She stopped climbing and leant into the tree, letting it hold her.

‘Charlie?’ Tobias’s voice floated up. It was joined by Nell’s.

‘What’s going on? What’s this about a letter? What’s she done?’

‘Not now!’ snapped Tobias. ‘Leave it. Get on back inside before O’Dair smells you out. That’s all we need. I’ll talk to you later.’

‘But—’

‘Get out of it, Nell, or I won’t be picking no locks!’

Nell stamped away through the leaves. Charlie clung to the tree. She blinked to clear her vision, climbed higher until she found a forked branch where she could crouch, half-sitting. She was shaking so hard the branches around her shivered.

‘Charlie?’ Tobias’s voice was soft. He had finished being angry with her, then. She hadn’t. She had never hated herself before. It wasn’t a good feeling.

‘Charlie?’ Tobias sighed. ‘I wish you’d come down so we could talk this through. We gotta fix what’s happened. No use blaming yourself. You didn’t know.’ He paused, cursed softly. ‘I gotta go now. Fossy’s shouting for me. Go to Mr Moleglass. Soon as you can after supper. Don’t let no one see you. And don’t go near Windlass. Not the state you’re in. The man’s no fool.’

The leaves crunched again, and she was alone.

The worst moment came, as she knew it would, when Mr Moleglass opened his door. The fear in his eyes confirmed all Tobias had told her. It was true.

Tobias was already there, pacing from one end of the
room to the other, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He didn’t look up as she entered.

‘Sit down.’ Moleglass guided her to his armchair in front of the hob. ‘Tell us,’ he said, ‘exactly what you have done.’

Tobias turned. They both looked at her.

‘I…I showed him the letter.’ This was the first payment for her stupidity. That look on Mr Moleglass’s face would stay with her forever. She tried to defend herself: ‘I remembered that the Prime Minister had been friends with my parents. I thought he might know who Bettina was. That…he would help me find her.’

‘I told you not to show the letter to anyone.’ Mr Moleglass’s eyes were dark with disappointment.

‘
You
made me show it to Tobias!’

‘Because I knew we could trust him.’

‘Well, you’re wrong! He’s working for the Resistance! The new maid, Nell, is a spy, and he’s working with her. They’re Republicans! They want to cut off my father’s head!’

‘The only head the Resistance is after belongs to Windlass,’ Tobias growled.

Charlie groaned. She clenched her fists and thumped the arms of the chair. ‘I don’t understand! Alistair Windlass is the Prime Minister! He was my parents’ friend. Or was that a lie, too?’

‘It’s true.’ Mr Moleglass shook his head. ‘Although the man has always been something of an enigma. Little is
actually known about him, other than that he was shipped down from the north by the Whigs to contest a marginal seat at the age of twenty-three and, against all expectation, won. He has great charisma and charm, of course. How could it be otherwise? A man of no background, lacking powerful friends to offer him advancement, and yet he becomes Prime Minister of Quale at the age of twenty-eight. Only a man of exceptional abilities could achieve that. His tragedy, and ours, is that he has chosen to misuse those abilities.’

Tobias grunted and began to pace to and fro in front of the hob. Moleglass’s eyes followed him for a moment, then turned back to Charlie. ‘But whatever his ambitions for power, the truly puzzling thing to me has been the fact that I am certain the Prime Minister’s friendship with your parents was genuine! He was not only their friend, but their most trusted advisor. Indeed, he often visited your mother in her laboratory, especially in the months preceding her disappearance.’

‘He told me she was doing work for him!’

‘So what?’ said Tobias. ‘She ran away, Charlie. Your letter proves that. Who else would she run from? She was the Queen of Quale! Who other than Windlass had power enough to scare her off? Except your dad, and he wouldn’t scare a flea. I don’t know the ins and outs, but Windlass has taken over this country lock, stock and barrel since your daddy… Ask Nell. She’ll tell you.’

‘And just who is Nell?’

‘Nell Sorrell. My stepcousin. Her mum and my stepdad were sister and brother.’

‘You said your stepfather was a thief.’

‘So he was, till the day he died. So are all the Petches. Thieving’s their trade and there’s none better at it.’

‘But you’re not a thief!’

‘No.’ He grinned his slow grin. ‘My mum don’t fancy the thieving trade for me. And to tell the truth, nor do I. But I ain’t a real Petch. Only adopted. Nell ain’t a thief either, in case you’re wondering. She’s a good girl, Nell. Bit bossy, but straight as they come. And you’re wrong about something else: I never broke my word to you. I never told Nell about that letter. You’re gonna do that.’

‘
What?
’

‘The Resistance is your only hope,’ said Mr Moleglass. ‘The Prime Minister will have set his spies on Bettina’s trail. It will not be difficult for him to find her. And if she knows where the Queen is… But there is a chance Nell’s friends might be able to reach her first.’

Acceptance was sinking in, and with it, misery. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about the Prime Minister?’ she wailed.

Moleglass blinked. ‘I am sorry. Since your mother’s disappearance and your father’s illness, I have remained in the Castle for one reason. To look after you. That is why I have put up with living in this damp—’

‘Why down here? You would never tell me! And why do you let Mrs O’Dair run everything?’

Moleglass sighed. Tugged his moustache. ‘The matter
was taken out of my hands. I had no complaints about the housekeeper’s work during her first years here. But afterwards…once your father became ill she dismissed most of the servants. All the ones who had served your father and the Old King before him. I remonstrated. Hiring and dismissing servants was my responsibility. But she laughed in my face.
That woman!
’ Moleglass took a deep breath and continued.

‘The Prime Minister wanted no one in the Castle whose loyalty lay with the King, rather than himself. She is in his pay; she is his creature. She gave me a choice: I could stay and serve her, or I could leave. I chose to do neither. I will not work for that woman, but I cannot abandon you, Charlie. So here I am. She allows me to stay because she still hopes that I will return to the servants’ quarters and to my work! She knows my value. But I have refused. I live here, in the Castle, but not in her domain.’