LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

me. ‘I’ve ordered food, Tom Badgerlock. And arranged rooms for us. As soon as they’ve made the beds up, they’ll show you where to take the bags. Until then, do be seated, my good man. You’ve well earned your keep today. There’s a mug for you.’

      He nodded to a seat at his left, and I took it. Someone had already poured the ale for me. I’m afraid I drained off that first mug without any other thought than that it was sustenance after a long day. It was neither the best nor the worst brew I’d ever tasted, but few draughts had been as welcome as that one. I set the empty mug down on the table and Lord Golden nodded permission at the pitcher. As I refilled our mugs, the food arrived. There was a roast fowl, a large bowl of buttered peas, a meal pudding with treacle and cream, crisp trout on a platter, bread, butter and more ale. Before the serving-boy left, Lord Golden added another request. He had badly bruised his shoulder that morning; would the boy bring him a slab of raw meat from the kitchen to draw the soreness from the swelling? Laurel served Lord Golden and herself and then passed the dishes on to me. We ate in near silence, all of us very intent on the food. In a short time, the fowl and fish had been reduced to bones on the platters. Lord Golden rang for the servants to clear away. They brought a berry pie with clotted cream for a sweet, and more ale. The slab of raw meat came with it. As soon as the servant was gone, Lord Golden neatly wrapped it in his napkin and handed it to me. I wondered with weary gratitude if anyone would notice its later disappearance. A short time later I became aware that I had eaten more than I should have done, and drunk more than was wise. I had that sodden, overly full feeling that is so miserable after one has been hungry all day. Lassitude crept over me. I tried to hide my yawns behind my hand and pay attention to the hushed conversation between Lord Golden and Laurel. Their voices seemed distant, as if a noisy river rushed between them and me.

      ‘One of us should have a quiet look round,’ Laurel was insisting. ‘Perhaps some questions asked downstairs would discover where they were going, or if they are known around here. It could be they are close by.’

      ‘Tom?’ Lord Golden prodded me.

      ‘I already have,’ I said softly. ‘They were here. But they either moved on already, or are at a different inn. If a town this size has more than one inn.’ I leaned back in my chair.

      ‘Tom?’ Lord Golden asked me with some annoyance. In an aside to Laurel he observed, ‘It’s probably the Smoke. He’s never had any head for it. Just walking through the fumes puts him into a fog.’

      I pried open my eyes. ‘Beg pardon?’ I asked. My own voice sounded thick and distant in my ears.

      ‘How do you know they were here?’ Laurel demanded. Had she asked that before?

      I was too tired to think of a good answer. ‘I just do,’ I replied shortly, and then directed my words to Lord Golden as if we had been interrupted. ‘There’s also been blood spilled in the street outside the inn. We should go carefully around here.’

      He nodded sagely. ‘I think our wisest course is an early bed and an earlier start tomorrow.’ Without letting Laurel voice any objections, he rang the servants’ bell again. He was told that his rooms were, indeed, ready. Laurel had a tiny room to herself up at the end of the hall. Lord Golden had a more substantial chamber, with room for a cot for his man in it. The maidservant who had come at the bell insisted that she would carry Laurel’s bag up to her chamber for her, so we said goodnight there. I avoided her eyes. I was suddenly tremendously weary, too weary to even attempt our roles. It was all I could do to shoulder a share of our bags and follow the servant to Lord Golden’s rooms. He stayed behind, chatting with the innkeeper about replenishing our travel supplies before we left in the morning.

      Our room was at the back of the inn, on the ground floor. I dragged our baggage inside, closed the door behind the departing servant and opened wide the window. I found a nightshirt for Lord Golden and laid it out on his turned-down bed. I put the meat inside my shirt, to take to Nighteyes later. Then I sat down on my bed to await Lord Golden’s return.

      I awoke to someone shaking my shoulder gently. ‘Fitz? Are you all right?’

      I came up slowly out of my dream. It took a moment or two to recall who I was. In my dream, I had been in another city, a populous, well-lit city. There had been music and many torches and lights. A celebration. I had not been a servant, but was – ‘It’s gone,’ I told the Fool sleepily.

      I heard an odd scrabbling noise and then a thump as Nighteyes heaved himself over the windowsill and then dropped into the room. He thrust his nose into my face. I petted him absently. I felt so drowsy. My ears buzzed.

      The Fool shook me again. ‘Fitz. Stay awake and talk to me. What’s wrong? Is it the Smoke?’

      ‘Nothing. It’s just so peaceful. I want to go back to sleep.’ Sleep pulled at me like a retreating tide. I longed to recede with it. Nighteyes poked me again.

      Stupid. It’s the black stone, like the Elderling road. You’re getting lost in it again. Come outside.

      I forced my eyes open wider. I looked up into the Fool’s concerned face, and then dazedly gazed at the walls that surrounded me. Black stone. Veined with silver. And when I looked at it, I recognized it for what it was, stone scavenged from a much older building. The stones of the inner wall of the room fitted almost seamlessly together, but the outer wall was built more roughly. No, I suddenly knew, that wasn’t completely right. The building predated the town, but it had been a ruin, rebuilt from the same ancient stone. And that ancient stone was memory stone, worked by Elderling hands.

      I do not know what the Fool thought as I tottered to my feet. ‘Stones. Memory stone,’ I told him thickly as I groped my way towards the fresh air. I heard his astonished cry when I threw myself out of the window into the dusty innyard. The wolf landed more softly beside me. An instant later, Nighteyes faded into the shadows as someone leaned out of a window and demanded, ‘What goes on there?’

      ‘It’s my idiot serving-man!’ Lord Golden retorted in disgust. ‘So drunk he has fallen out the window trying to close it for me. Well, let him lie there. Serves the sodden oaf right.’

      I lay still in the dust of the innyard and felt the plucking dreams recede. In a moment or two, I would stand and walk further from the stone walls. I just needed a moment or two.

      The terrible tiredness that had been burdening me all evening gradually eased. I floated in relief. I stared up into the night sky and felt as if I could rise right up into it. Somewhere a couple was arguing. He was miserable but she was insistent. It was too much trouble to focus on their words, but then they came closer, and I could not avoid overhearing them.

      ‘I should go home,’ he said. He sounded very young. ‘I should go back to my mother. If I had not left her, none of this would have happened. Arno would still be alive. And those others.’

      She inserted her head under his arm, and then rested it on his chest. That’s true. And we would be apart, you forever given to another. Is that truly what you want?

      They had drifted closer. With him, I breathed the sweet scent of her, musky and wild. He held her close. The wind blew through my dream of them, tattering the edges. He stroked her fur; her long dark hair threaded through his fingers. ‘It isn’t what I want. But perhaps it is my duty.’

      Your duty is to your people. And to me. She wrapped her hand around his forearm. Her fingernails pressed against his flesh like claws. She tugged at him with them. Come on. It is time to get up again. We cannot tarry, we must ride.

      He looked down into her green eyes. ‘My love, I must go back. I would be more useful to all of us there. I could speak out, I could press for change. I could …’

      We would be apart. Could you stand that?

      ‘I would find a way for us to be together.’

      No! She cuffed his cheek, and her palm rasped against his skin. There was a hint of claws in the gesture. No. They would not understand. They would force us apart. They would kill me, and perhaps you, too. Recall the tale of the Piebald Prince. His royal blood was not enough to protect him.

Скачать книгу