The Queen's Poisoner - Page 82/108

“He’s a wily one, my lord,” said Catsby with approval.

“You picked the right man to lead the Espion,” concurred another man Owen couldn’t see.

The king looked satisfied. “What is your plan, Dickon?”

The spymaster smirked. “It would be best, of course, if no one knew of it except myself. But let’s just say that the boy will soon be seeing his old home of Tatton Hall again.”

Ankarette’s frown did not leave her face as the councilmen trailed out of the room. She slowly and gently secured the spyhole and then rested her hands in her lap, giving Owen a thoughtful look.

“What’s going to happen?” he asked her.

She shook her head a moment, trying to find words that would not alarm him. He could read her clearly, and her need to comfort him made him worry even more.

“When a man feels threatened,” Ankarette said in a voice as quiet as feathers, “he is apt to do terrible things.” She shook her head. “I don’t think the king has noticed that his spymaster is no longer serving his interests.”

Men rise from one ambition to another. If there was ever a man born to lead the Espion, it was John Tunmore. I’m frankly startled that Ratcliffe managed to capture him. The rat has a gift. His book would be priceless. I wonder if there is anything in it that incriminates me?

—Dominic Mancini, Espion of the Palace Kitchen

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Deep Fathoms

In the months Owen had spent at Kingfountain, the season should have started turning to autumn, but instead, it decided to retreat back to summer. The day the eel was smuggled back into Ceredigion, a heat wave struck the kingdom and turned the castle into a brick oven. It lasted for days.

Sweat dripped down Owen’s nose as he lay on the kitchen floor, fidgeting with the tiles. He had stacked a row up on the bench so that they would fall and instigate a group down lower to collapse as well. His designs were getting more and more complicated.

“It is so hot!” Evie complained, scooting away from him, her back to the wall. She stretched and yawned lazily. “It is never this hot in the North, Owen. Even this late in the year, there is still ice up on the mountains. Did you know there are ice caves up there? Huge ice caves. I have not seen them yet. Papa said I was too young to climb up to them.”

“Mmm-hmmm,” Owen mumbled distractedly. The salty sweat stung his eyes, and he wiped it away furiously. He hated being so hot and irritable.

The windows of the kitchen were fully open, but it did not help against the sweltering heat. Liona was still responsible for baking bread for all the meals, and after hours of standing in front of the boiling ovens, she was snapping at her underlings impatiently. Everyone was upset and short-tempered.

“I wish the king would take us with him when the court moves. It’s moving West, I hear. Grandpapa told me. Would you like to see Tatton Hall again? What is your manor like? Would you like Grandpapa to give a message to your family for you?”

Owen stared at her, his heart suddenly clenching. “Why is the king going West?” He felt a prickle of apprehension. Had this Deconeus of Ely somehow compromised his parents? Worry began to wriggle in his stomach.

“The king always travels, silly. He must administer justice and order throughout the realm. There are always disputes that need resolution. Laws to be enforced. Taxes to be collected, of course. He usually picks a place for his winter court. It takes several months to make all the arrangements, you know. I hear he’s going West this year. Maybe he’ll spend winter court at Tatton Hall? Or perhaps the royal palace Beestone.”

Owen was not sure how he should feel about that. It had been months since he’d seen his family. He was still upset with his parents for abandoning him, whether they’d had a choice or not, but his life had drastically changed in the months since he’d left home. He no longer felt like the same boy he’d been.

“I have an idea,” Evie whispered. “It’s so hot, let’s go jump into the cistern again!”

The idea was absolutely wonderful and Owen grinned his agreement. He toppled the lead tile and they watched the pieces collapse in a dazzling explosion of sound loud enough to awake Mancini, who had been snoring in a chair.

Then Evie grabbed Owen’s hand and the two started across the kitchen, running.

“Where are you off to now?” Liona asked over her shoulder. Jewel was suffering with gout from the heat wave and had asked the cook to watch them that afternoon.

“To dance in the fountain!” Evie yelled back mischievously.

“That’s not proper, young lady!” Liona hollered.