“That man and no other will have my Soulette.” I closed my fist around the purse. In my ordinary voice I added, “Both princes, stand at the door, if you please.”
They went willingly and stood with their backs to the door. Dure crossed his arms again, his guarding pose.
“Stand there to prevent my escape. Now close your eyes, so I may hide the magic purse.”
They closed their eyes, but I suspected they would open them a slit in a moment. I hid my fist in the folds of my skirt.
Princess Renn would certainly check on me soon. Wait, Your Highness, I pray you. Do not come yet.
Noisily I pulled the chair and table to the window and climbed up but didn’t leave the purse there. Next, I hurried to the bed and closed the drapes around me. I lifted the mattress and let it fall, smoothed out the bedding, and then—silently—inserted the purse into the hole I’d made in the drapery.
After slipping out between the bed-curtains, I stamped to the case of shelves, which I moved away from the wall, paused, pushed back. I opened the wooden box, then closed it with a loud click. I dragged the table and chair to the middle of the room, laid a fresh log on the fire, and announced in my witch’s voice, “There, my sweetlings.”
Master Onnore, who was tall enough not to need the chair, shoved the table against the wall and climbed up. He ran his hand along the windowsill, although he could see there was no purse. He looked back to make sure I hadn’t left. Then he peered down, seeking the purse below in the outer ward.
Master Dure stood at the shelves, opening the box, looking in the bowl, feeling under each shelf. He, too, glanced at me after every few seconds. Finally he moved the case of shelves aside and slid his dagger between the floorboards.
Master Onnore rushed to the fireplace and used the poker to assure himself I hadn’t tossed the purse in there. He would have been comical if the circumstances hadn’t been so dire.
Together they advanced on the bed and drew open the curtains. After a minute or two of carefully shifting bedclothes and looking at me, they ripped open the mattress and forgot me in pawing through the feathers. I counted to a hundred, then inched the door open, slowly, slowly, until I had just enough room to slip out, and slid it closed behind me— And heard the princess from below. “I’ve come with a refreshment for the poor girl. I will take this one to her as well.”
My heart pounded, but I fitted the key into the lock and turned, hearing a quiet clink. Then, key still in my right fist, I lifted my skirt and started up the ladder to the wall walk above the tower.
“La! I can climb stairs unaided.”
I saw the glow of a torch on the staircase walls below. With all my strength, I raised the trapdoor, climbed out— And faced low boots and stout calves.
The guard pulled me up by my armpits. I passed a big belly, saw a red beard, green eyes. “Be still. I’ve got you.”
“Her Highness is hurt!”
Princess Renn cried from below, “La! Help! Oh, la!” She had discovered the locked door.
The guard grabbed my left hand and started down. I bent over but didn’t step back on the ladder. Other cries rose from below.
“Come.” He let go my hand and reached for my ankles.
I jumped back.
The cries continued, the princess’s most shrill of all.
Would he come up for me or go down to her?
He descended. I tossed the key over the battlements and raced away. The rain had become fog. If more guards were on the wall walk, the mist might hide me.
The king’s chambers were in the northwest tower, on the other side of the gatehouse wall walk.
Let them not expect me to go there. And let me not be too late.
I didn’t think His Highness’s trapdoor would be guarded, and it wasn’t. Why guard it without a prisoner inside? I raised it a crack. Guards would certainly be posted inside or outside the king’s chamber, or both.
Luck was with me. No guards on the landing. I lifted the trapdoor just enough to admit me and then gentled it back into place and stole down the ladder. The king’s bed hadn’t been in the room I’d visited or on the story below, so it had to be in the top chamber, as my prison bed had been.
The tower seemed to sway. I put my hand on the doorknob to steady myself. I swallowed repeatedly before I knew I could speak.
“La, Father! Here I am. . . .” I turned the knob and opened the door. “La! I have extraordinary . . .”
I ran in. An impression of startled faces. “Your Majesty . . .” I fell on my knees—and was lifted by two guards the instant my knees touched the floor. They began to drag me out.
“I didn’t poison you, but I know who did. She’ll do it again.”
His Highness held up his hand. “How fortunate I am that prisoners break in to bring me truth.” His voice had diminished to a whisper. “Pray tell, who?”
Goodwife Celeste sat on a stool near the king’s bed. “Elodie!”
Sir Misyur turned away from tending the fire. “Elodie?”