The Whisperer (4 page)

Tess scowled and opened her mouth to give a retort that Griff was so sure would not be polite that he stepped in front of her and cut off whatever tirade was about to come out.

‘Er, no, Master Tyren, you don’t,’ Griff chipped in. ‘Tess was just telling me over some tea that she’ll have to spend a few days getting used to us and our ways. And I said that this is her first day after all,’ he shrugged. ‘She’s bound to feel like a stranger at first. We’ll have a think and find a solution for her creatures, sir. Leave it with me.’

‘Be sure you do, Griff,’ Tyren said, nodding firmly at him. ‘Tess, your creatures are our prize drawcard, now that Ilbo is gone. Don’t let me down.’

Much to Griff’s relief Tess said nothing as the showmaster turned away.

He swung around once the wagon’s door had closed again. ‘It won’t help you to have him as an enemy.’

‘He’s only helping me because it suits his purposes.’

‘It was no different for my brothers and myself. We just had to learn to fit in and make friends. I’ll be your friend, Tess. This wagon will feel like a home soon, I promise. Look, Rix is already exploring,’ he said and pointed.

Tess found a sad smile when she saw that the veercat was indeed sniffing around the corners of the wagon. ‘You’re being very decent to me, Griff. I’m sure I don’t deserve it.’

‘Listen, Tess, I know what it’s like to feel like an outsider. In fact I feel very alone a lot of the time. You can trust me. I’ll help you with your creatures.’

He could tell that she’d spent most of her life not trusting anyone and could hear her thoughts colliding with each other. She wanted to be his friend.

‘Come on,’ Griff said kindly. ‘I’m starving and that bell you can hear means the food tent is still serving. Leave Rix locked in here. I’ve got an idea for the other creatures. We’ll talk about it over a meal.’

To his further relief, Tess agreed, following him to the smell of where roasted meat was being served.

They lined up quietly to get their meals, which were being dished out onto clay plates by Madam Tyren and her team of helpers.

‘That’s Tyren’s wife,’ Griff whispered. ‘She’s alright but don’t trust her completely. Her loyalties are to Tyren and the show. She likes his wealth. Ah, here come my brothers,’ he said, grinning crookedly, ‘now I’m for it.’

The burly boys arrived, winking and grinning at their younger brother. ‘Who’s your girlfriend, Griff?’ one asked.

Gesturing at the handsome youth, Griff replied. ‘Tess this is Phineas, the eldest, and Matthias,’ he said, pointing to the second brother. They both nodded at her, smiling widely.

Tess immediately noticed how different they were to her new friend. Unlike Griff, who was dark and swarthy with longish, soft wavy hair, they had short, scruffy golden hair and pale skin. They both regarded her through light-blue eyes, filled with what seemed to be permanent amusement. ‘Ah, the Twisted Twins. I’ve heard about you two. But you look identical. How can you be twins and not the same age?’

‘They’re not twins,’ Griff explained. ‘Phineas was born at the beginning of Leaf-fall and Matthias the end of the following Thaw. So there’s not quite a year between them. I’m three years younger than Matthias.’

She frowned, still confused.

Phineas explained. ‘Master Tyren decided that the Twisted Twins sounded better than the Twisted Brothers, so he just passes us off as twins.’

Understanding flitted across her face. ‘I see, well you could easily be twins,’ Tess admitted. ‘And what is your part in the show? I heard you were a balancing act.’

‘More than that, I hope,’ Matthias said. ‘Balance is a big part of it but there’s strength, control, suppleness. We’re contortionists. Come along to our rehearsal this evening and you’ll see how much more.’

‘I will,’ she said.

‘Tess is a new act. She owns beautiful, rare creatures,’ Griff said, proud that he had such an exotic new friend to introduce. ‘She’s got a young centaur!’

‘No!’ the boys said together, intrigued.

She nodded. ‘It’s true. He’s very shy of people. I don’t know how he’ll ever forgive me. I couldn’t bear to hear him wailing today. That’s why I fled to the wagon.’

‘I heard him,’ Griff said, then turned to her. ‘We’ll go see him straight after we’ve eaten,’ he reassured. ‘No, you can’t push in, Mat, or trouble will befall me. You’ll have to queue.’

‘I’m famished,’ his brother groaned.

‘I don’t eat much. You can have my helping,’ Tess said, clearly liking the tall, affable brothers immediately.

Mat beamed a smile at her. ‘I’ll look forward to that, Miss Tess, and to a special viewing of your beasts,’ and he hurried off to join his brother at the back of the queue.

‘They’re nice,’ she said, looking at Griff sideways. ‘You don’t look at all like them. The opposite, in fact.’

‘I know. Apparently I look more like my mother. She had dark hair, dark eyes.’

‘You’re quite young to leave your mother and father, aren’t you?’

He shrugged. ‘I’m older than you, I’m thirteen summers. Anyway, my mother died when I was born.’ He looked away from Tess and she saw sadness ghost across his expression although he tried to hide it, perhaps not wanting any pity. ‘And it was Dad who raised us.’

She took a small crust of bread and balanced it on the side of her plate next to a small helping of stew. ‘So if he’s still alive, why are you here?’

Griff pointed to a bench at a table and she followed to sit down and eat. ‘Money became tight but Dad didn’t want my brothers going off to fight in Janko’s army. He worried that the general might just take them if he needed new recruits.’

‘So you all joined the Travelling Show,’ she completed.

He nodded as he chewed on his hunk of bread. She changed topics. ‘What’s your idea for the creatures—you said you had one?’

‘Well, rather than letting them roam free, perhaps you could tie them up on—’

‘Tie them up? Are you mad?’

‘Let me finish,’ Griff said patiently. ‘Tie them on long ropes so they have lots of room but Tyren is satisfied that you are preventing the animals from roaming wild. He has to protect the money he’s already paid for you, Tess. Just make it look as though they’re fully secured and once you’ve earned everyone’s trust, it will be easy to convince Tyren to allow more freedom for the creatures. Let everyone get to know you, become one of the family, so to speak.’

‘And are you one of the family, Griff?’

‘Well, I like to think so.’

‘Is that why you sit apart from everyone else during mealtime? And why you were given the job of looking after the newcomer? You seem to be a bit of a loner yourself.’

‘I just don’t like a lot of noise,’ Griff said, unhappily, and she noticed he shook his head now and then as though trying to rid it of water.

‘Well, I’m the same,’ she admitted, watching a gaggle of women arrive at the food tent. ‘In fact—’ She stopped, surprised when Griff stood up, groaning.

He looked around at the group of chortling women. ‘Are you finished?’

Tess was confused. ‘Er, not quite.’

‘Grab your bread. You can finish it while we walk.’

Tess frowned but did as he asked and soon found herself being hurried along.

‘What’s wrong, Griff?’

‘I get there early usually. It gets a bit noisy for me otherwise.’

Tess hadn’t noticed. ‘So you never did tell me how you knew all that stuff about me,’ she said, running slightly to keep up with Griff, who was striding away quickly.

‘No, I didn’t.’

When he said no more, she became indignant. ‘Well…are you going to explain?’ she asked.

He began to jog. ‘Tess, bring Rix and have the others brought to the copse. Tell Chauncey that Tyren said it was alright. I’ll explain everything there.’

‘But where are you going?’ she yelled after him, puzzled.

He didn’t reply, just ran ahead towards the safety of the trees.

‘Miralda,’ Duke Janko said, before bending to touch his lips to her hand. She had to restrain herself from pulling away from his mouth or visibly flinching. ‘It’s an honour to see you again, majesty,’ he said, straightening.

‘Welcome back, Janko. Congratulations on all your success in the north.’

He shrugged, as if to say it was all about duty. ‘My brother only has to ask and I am there for him.’

Miralda cocked her head to one side, ensuring the pretend smile never left her face. ‘That’s so generous of you. You’re a good brother to him,’ she said, the honeyed words clearly pleasing the Duke but in her heart they were hollow, driven by scorn. Miralda hated him. She wondered if he knew this. ‘The city welcomes you with great excitement,’ she added.

He smiled and with it came an expression too close to the face of the man she loved. She hated Janko all the more for echoing his brother’s looks so keenly.

‘I am amazed by the enthusiasm, Rodin,’ Janko said, turning to the King. It irritated Miralda that the Duke never paid his brother quite the right amount of respect once he was out of earshot of the dignitaries of the palace. He should address him as King until told otherwise. She knew it never bothered Rodin, of course.

‘Don’t be,’ Rodin replied, with his usual generosity. ‘They love you, brother. As they should. You have kept harm from them. Old Besler must be licking his wounds in the north.’

The Duke chuckled, accepting the tall goblet of wine that was presented to him by a servant. ‘That fat backside of his was sent scurrying into the cave network that his rabble favour. They won’t surface for months now, for fear of reprisals.’

‘Indeed,’ Miralda said, taking a sip from her goblet. ‘I heard reprisals had already been taken.’

The Duke stared at her and the feigned smile was dropped, replaced by an expression that spoke of secrets and cunning. He blinked slowly before he answered. ‘We must make examples of his horde. Brutality is the only language they understand.’

‘Have you tried any other way?’ she pushed, knowing this was irritating her King, who gave her a warning glance.

‘Oh, talking doesn’t work, my Queen,’ he said and she heard only a sneer in his tone, which she could tell was suggesting she keep her nose out of men’s business. She felt her blood beginning to boil at his condescension. ‘I know it sounds all very nice to talk across the parley table,’ Janko continued and Miralda turned off from his voice. She looked towards Rodin, apology in her glance, and felt rescued when she saw a familiar servant enter and the dark head of her son appearing nervously around the door directly after him.

‘Ah, the Crown Prince is here,’ she said, deliberately impressing Lute’s title as she cut across Janko’s words. ‘Come in, darling. The Duke has arrived and is keen to see you.’

Lute glanced once at the Duke before he was guided fully into the room by Pilo, now behaving every inch the servant. Due to all the rush of getting cleaned up and readied for presentation, Lute had not had an opportunity to speak to his companion about what he’d overheard in the bailey. It was playing on his mind, although he was beginning to believe he must have misheard the words, or misinterpreted them, because his father and uncle looked so happy. He planned to try hard to impress the Duke for his father’s sake.

‘Thank you, Pilo,’ Miralda said and smiled softly.

Lute had sensed that Pilo had been a blessing in his mother’s life, ever since he had first appeared four years ago. And since Pilo had firmly entered Lute’s life, the Prince had come out of his ‘shell’, as he’d heard his father put it. Meanwhile, his mother clearly adored Pilo for the care and effort he put into her son. They would never have more children, Lute knew this. No-one had needed to tell him. He had sensed that he had been hard won and there would be no sister or brother to share the burden of this parental love. So all the love his mother in particular had to lavish on a family was directed at Lute. But he was being groomed for a role that would require him to have the broadest of shoulders—being loved too hard would be the least of his troubles. That’s what Pilo had always counselled in his reserved manner, anyway.

‘Janko, this is our son, Lute. You haven’t seen him for some years now,’ Rodin said, both men turning to regard the boy.

Lute couldn’t help but note that where one of the brothers beamed with pride, the other did not successfully hide his disdain. The memory of what he’d heard earlier was haunting him. And the look he saw flit across Janko’s face suggested the Duke was not enamoured of the idea that a child had shunted him from that enviable position of heir. Lute reminded himself to be careful.

‘Lute?’ Janko said, mock awe in his voice. ‘Stars save me,’ he said, ‘child, you’ve grown! How tall and strong you look now.’

Lute darted a look at his mother and with almost imperceptible encouragement from her soft smile, he nodded low at his father’s brother. ‘Duke Janko. Yes, sir, I’m a lot older now and I love to ride, shoot, hunt, swim, fight. I hope I’ll make you proud.’

The Duke bowed. ‘Majesty,’ he said, more formally now and with much reverence, ‘do call me Uncle.’

‘Welcome back to Floris,’ Lute said carefully. ‘I hear you were successful in the north.’ He had practised this compliment with Pilo, ensuring he got just the right amount of awe but also dignity into his words, as though spoken like a king in waiting.

‘As usual,’ his father said, adding lightness to an otherwise bare conversation.

Another glance towards his mother told Lute that she too sensed the awkward pause, the stilted nature of their exchange.

And no doubt simply because she did so love the King, she rushed to help out. ‘Perhaps you’d like to go out riding with your uncle tomorrow, Lute? I’m sure Pilo would accompany and it would be a great chance for Janko to have some time with you,’ she tried. ‘Janko’s an expert horseman. I’m sure he’d like to see your father’s latest acquisition for your stable.’

‘I’d be delighted to,’ Lute replied, once again adopting the polite tone Pilo had rehearsed with him. ‘Father’s given me a beautiful filly.’

‘A filly, eh?’ Janko replied. ‘And how well do you ride?’

‘It’s not a question of how well but how fast,’ the King said with mock weariness. ‘Can’t get it into these boys’ heads that it’s about finesse not speed.’

‘Oh, Rodin,’ Miralda said with an amused glance back at her son.

‘Alright, alright,’ the King admitted, ‘yes, Janko, your nephew is a talented rider. I’m sure you’ll be impressed.’

‘You will go along too, won’t you, Rodin?’ Miralda asked. Lute sensed the worry in her voice, even though she tried to disguise it from Janko.

Rodin shook his head. ‘Pilo will. What about you, my love?’

‘Ah, that’s right, you’re something of a horsewoman, aren’t you, Miralda?’

She smiled but Lute could see how forced it was. ‘I love to ride. But not tomorrow.’ Lute knew her too well. He could see in her eyes that she couldn’t imagine anything worse than riding with Janko while trying to remain gracious and polite throughout the conversation. ‘Pilo and Lute will be fine company for you.’

‘I can’t wait,’ Janko said, grinning at him and Lute bristled at the oily sound of insincerity in his voice. ‘Who taught him?’

‘Pilo taught me,’ Lute answered for himself. ‘Pilo is my teacher in everything. Er, sorry, Father, I meant that as no—’

‘Not at all, my boy. No offence taken,’ Rodin said. ‘Janko, this is Pilo. He joined the elite servants about four years ago, was it?’ Pilo nodded, said nothing. ‘And about two years ago took over full responsibility for Lute. He’s become indispensable to us, I have to admit. And, as you can see, Lute has come along very well since you last clapped eyes on him.’

‘My word, you have!’ Janko admitted. ‘The last time we met you were such a weakling, Lute. Always running behind your mother’s skirts. But you’re tall and look strong and healthy. I’m pleased. Almost ready for soldiering. How old are you now?’

His mother probably hoped that Janko had missed the worried glance that Pilo threw her way but Lute didn’t, even as he prepared to answer. ‘I’m thirteen summers, Uncle.’

‘Bit young for your army, Janko,’ Rodin said, with a friendly punch to his brother’s arm. ‘Anyway, let us go. You must be eager to settle back into your old place. I’ll walk with you—I could use the exercise and we can talk on the way. I think Miralda’s organised the entire west wing of the palace for you if that suits?’

‘Suits perfectly. My thanks to you both,’ Janko said, smiling. ‘Tomorrow morning, then, Lute,’ he added. ‘Let’s plan a ride for just after dawn.’

Lute nodded. ‘I look forward to it, Uncle Janko.’

‘Until tonight, then, majesty,’ the Duke said and swept towards the main doors of the salon, the King in tow.

Miralda turned back to her son but she cast a glance Pilo’s way when she spoke. ‘Lute, would you ask Dalz to organise some fresh watered wine, please? This is too warm for my taste and by all means order some pastries for yourself. I happen to know cook’s made some fresh honeycakes.’

Lute grinned. He went in search of the servants, who had been banished in case the King and Duke needed to speak privately. But so far everything had been very conversational and unimportant. Perhaps more would be revealed on the ride tomorrow. He left the chamber eager for cake but reminding himself to talk to Pilo about the soldier’s comment.

As soon as Lute was out of earshot, Miralda changed her lighthearted tone. ‘Listen to me very carefully now,’ she said, her expression filled with anxiety as she regarded Pilo. ‘That man is not nearly as friendly as he seems.’

Pilo blinked and finally spoke for the first time since entering the royal chamber. ‘How would you like me to treat that warning, majesty?’

‘Pilo, I trust you completely so I’m going to be candid with you and share my deepest fear. Lute is in danger. I’m sure of it but my husband is not very receptive to the hints I’ve dropped. He holds his brother in very high regard and I have no proof anyway. However, my instincts tell me that the Duke does not wish my son a long and happy life.’

Pilo stared at her, his blue eyes darkening as he considered the Queen’s fears. ‘Do you question his loyalty, your majesty?’

She had never admitted such a thing aloud but the man’s question deserved an equally direct response. ‘Not to Drestonia. But I don’t believe he’s as loyal to the family as he tries to appear. I am truly anxious.’

Pilo’s gaze narrowed and Miralda felt the full weight of this unfathomable man’s stare. In truth he was such an unknown quantity. She realised she entrusted her most precious possession to this quiet man, who said little. However, Lute loved him and she had absolutely no complaint about his care for her son, whom he’d helped bring out of his shell. Lute had become a far more adventurous child since Pilo had come into his life.

‘I fear for Lute,’ she repeated.

‘Then I will take precautions, majesty.’

‘Thank you,’ Miralda replied, unsure of what else she could say to explain her seemingly irrational anxiety.

‘Perhaps you should come on the ride with us?’ he suggested. ‘You would enjoy it.’

‘Oh I know I’d enjoy being out riding with Lute and yourself but no! Definitely not with the Duke in tow. I’d struggle to keep my manners gracious around that man. Something about him brings out the worst in me. And I’d rather it was a pleasurable experience. I am uncomfortable with him being around Lute but at the same time I realise that my son must get to know Janko. The King has enormous admiration and regard for the man. And I respect that they are brothers. Family ties are important.’ She looked immediately embarrassed at her last words, glancing away.

The servant frowned, clearly not understanding her sudden discomfort, and bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement as Lute returned with the news that cook had also made custard wafers, his favourite.

‘A huge tray is on the way up now,’ he said, ‘still warm!’

‘Lucky you, darling,’ she said and hugged him while looking over at Pilo, impressing upon the servant that this child was everything to her.
Everything
. And she needed to secure his safety, his throne.