“Pengantar, Achoo,” I said. Achoo needed permission to greet human beings.
Achoo liked the lady’s scent. The mot liked the way Achoo held up her head and closed her eyes to have her ears scratched. “What a splendid hound you are,” the lady told Achoo as the hound danced. “You’re not like our hunting hounds at all, though of course they are very fine animals in their way.” With a glance at me she asked, “What manner of breed is she? I have never seen her like before.”
I would not shame Achoo by saying she was a breed only by grace of training. Without her great skill she would have been known only as a common street cur. “She is a scent hound, my lady,” I replied. I could feel Pounce leaning against my left boot to give me courage. Pounce knew I did not like to speak with the nobility, but this pretty mot could not be so bad if she liked proper four-legged dogs. “Not for hunting game, if it please you. Achoo and I are both in the service of the Lord Provost of the realm.”
She gifted me with a bright smile. “Achoo! What a delightful name!” She had discovered Achoo’s favorite behind-the-ear scratch. “I’m Lewyth, and this dreadful bit of disobedience”—she scooped up the fluffy creature as it tried to go around her—“is Snowball, the wickedest Butterfly Puppy ever bred.” She held the mite up to her face, where it proceeded to lick her cheek while wagging a plume of a tail. “Yes, you’re very wicked. Still, between you and me, I wouldn’t want a ribbon on top of my head, either. You were wise to run away.” She offered the tiny dog to me and I took it without thinking. It had a small, pointed nose, a black mask around two button eyes, and two upright black ears that were far larger than a head that size would normally sport. Except for the black fur on her skull and a saddle of black fur on her back, she was white, with tiny paws and a cheerful puppy smile. She seemed inclined to like everyone, because she started to lick my hands once she got used to being away from the lady.
“Why do you call your hound Achoo?” Lewyth asked.
“She sneezes when she gets a scent,” I explained. “My partner thinks she sneezes it out and breathes it back in so her nose is clearer the second time.”
“She’s a wise hunter, aren’t you, then?” Lewyth asked Achoo, giving her one more good scratch with both hands. “Our family breeds hunting hounds and Butterfly Pups, now they’re popular. We’ve never tried scent hounds. Were you and Achoo looking for someone?”
“I was ordered to find my lady Sabine of Macayhill. The men-at-arms told me she was up here,” I said. Mistress Snowball, being the trusting sort, had turned herself over in the crook of my arm, inviting me to give her a belly rub. The moment I did so, she began to wriggle gleefully. “This is a very happy-natured creature.”
It is a very silly creature, Pounce remarked to me. I wager its brain pan is also full of fluff.
“The Butterflies are like that,” Lewyth replied, holding her hand down to Pounce. “If you give them kindness, they will love you all your days. Now, I cannot believe this handsome fellow is a scent cat.”
I looked down to see Pounce boot her hand just like a true cat. He glanced at me and I saw his eyes were gold. I nodded. “No, Pounce just thinks I’ll make a muck of things if I roam without him to watch me.”
Lewyth giggled. “I’m not making fun,” she hurried to explain. “I have cats, too. You may as well come in with us. Lady Sabine is with the countess. You must be Guardswoman Cooper.” We walked into the room that Snowball had left so gleefully.
Achoo sneezed. She raced to the baskets of wood placed in the corner to supply the braziers that heated it. Eagerly she sniffed the wood, turning pieces over with her nose, as a handful of small creatures like Snowball rushed to defend their mistresses, barking most ferociously. Only with their ears raised did they come as tall as Achoo’s chest. Several cats with fur as long as the fluffy dogs’ started to flee the room, but halted when they saw Pounce. Slowly they formed a circle around him and sat, tails flicking.
“Achoo, kemari,” I ordered, but my heart wasn’t in it. I knew very well why she was going from the wood baskets to every brazier, to and fro, as if she marked the steps of a child under orders to put fresh wood in each. When I thought we risked a call for guards, I repeated more firmly, “Kemari, girl!”
Achoo glanced at me. I saw her ribs rise and fall as she sighed. Then she looked at the little dogs crowding around her and wagged her tail.
Achoo is easy to please, if I have not written it before.
“Ladies, ladies,” cried Lewyth. “This is Lady Sabine’s companion, Guardswoman Cooper. Achoo is her hound, and Pounce is her cat. She was told to meet her lady here, and our countess told us we were to supply her with a gown for supper.”
“And a bath, like as not,” said one of them, a black-haired lady in a rose-colored tunic. Had no one ever told her that if she continued to screw her face up, it would stick in that position?
A stately blond who had not moved from her chair during the fuss said, “Lady Wyttabyrd, the Gentle Mother adjures us to show grace to those beneath us in rank.”
I clasped my hands behind me and planted my feet. So now I was beneath them in rank. Usually talk of animals brings folk together. I’d hoped to ask some questions when things quieted, but that was impossible if I was no better than a servant.
The arrogant blond turned to me and gave me a smile that was no more than a curve of the lips. “What is your name?”
“My lady, I am Provost’s Guardswoman Rebakah Cooper, a four-year veteran of the Lower City District in Corus,” I replied.
Lewyth put a hand on my shoulder. “Where did this formality come from? Baylisa, there’s no need.”
If anything, the lady called Baylisa grew even cooler. “Lewyth, the Gentle Mother teaches us that a world in its proper order is a peaceful one.”
The other young ladies in the room bowed their heads and whispered, “So mote it be.” They retreated to chairs and picked up different kinds of needlework. The small dogs, plainly knowing this signal, came to sit by their mistresses’ feet, their faces as forlorn as Achoo’s when I called her to heel.
The mot named Baylisa turned her ice blue eyes to Lewyth and me. “We follow the ways of the Gentle Mother here,” she explained. “My younger sister Lewyth is still learning to keep a serene heart.” Lewyth took her hand from my shoulder. “The Gentle Mother could relieve you of the pain and struggle you face in that uniform, Guardswoman Cooper,” Baylisa went on. “There are men to perform such brute work. Your spirit cries out for the touch of a child’s hands, the peace of the spindle, and the completion of a family.”
I wanted to slap this clapper-jawed dismal-dreaming piece of jouster bait. Folk in the Lower City do not tell each other how to worship, or if they do, it is not for long. I clenched my hands behind me and said as calmly as I could manage, “Begging Your Ladyship’s pardon, but I am already in a god’s service.” I did not say that I knew swiving well what my spirit called for, and it was not a curst cage!
She sat back, her hand splayed delicately over her chest. It is a gesture that never fails to give me the royal itch. “You, in service to a god?”
“What is this?” I was never so glad to hear Lady Sabine’s musical voice in my life. “Cooper, is there a problem?”
I did not look away from Lady Baylisa. “We were talking religion, Lady Sabine.”
Another mot, older, said behind me, “Lady Baylisa of Disart is an eloquent advocate of the Gentle Mother among the women of our lands. She has brought many to see that the world has changed, the wars of old done with, and we must change with it.”
I decided I ought to face the mot who was talking, since the other mots rose to curtsy to her. I bowed when I faced her and Lady Sabine. She was a grim-faced bit of jerky, wearing her dark hair scraped back, braided, then pinned in coils under a sheer veil and a round cap. Her ankle-length tunic was blue silk, with tiny pearls stitched in patterns along the hems. One large teardrop-shaped pearl hung on a gold chain nearly to her waist. One of the little dogs, seemingly
all fuzz, ran to her and barked for attention. She scooped it up and tucked it in the corner of her arm. I had to think some better of her for not worrying if the creature might shed its hair on her costly dress, but only some.
“Guardswoman Rebakah Cooper, this is Countess Aeldra of Queensgrace,” Lady Sabine told me. She looked as if she’d come fresh from the bath, her curly hair still showing some droplets of water. There was a silver net over her head. She had put on a long tunic in a shade of light blue that did her no favors. It was trimmed with pale pink braid threaded with a silver ribbon. Given the lack of travel wrinkles in the tunic, I knew it must be a loan from one of the ladies. They had even gotten Lady Sabine into a useless pair of soft, flat shoes. She ignored my obvious surprise at her dress to tell the countess, “My lady, Guardswoman Cooper is one of the Provost’s Guards I travel with.”
The countess looked me over while I fought the urge to scratch my bum. “Who is that monster?” she asked, nodding her head toward Achoo, who sat at my side.
“My lady, Achoo is a scent hound,” Lady Lewyth said, coming up to rub Achoo’s ears. “She’s the friendliest thing. She hasn’t bothered the cats in the least, and the dogs love her. But she’s a hound of degree, not a pet.”
“Though technically scent hounds, at least this one, are not hounds of degree,” the countess said coolly, “since the ones who work with the Provost are chosen on the basis of aptitude. They do not come from a recognized breeder of hounds for the hunt.”
If her rump were any stiffer, she’d break it every time she rides, I thought to Pounce.
If she fell on the steps, they would never be able to put her together again, he replied.
Fortunately, I have long practice at keeping my face calm when Pounce makes me laugh inside.
Countess Aeldra raised her voice. “Lady Baylisa, have proper clothes been produced for this person?”
Lady Baylisa nodded to a slave who’d tucked herself behind a cluster of noblewomen. She came forward with three tunics laid over her arms. Two were pink and one was pale yellow. I could see the stitching where one side seam had been repaired. They wouldn’t be giving their best to help me to pass muster in the great hall.
“Hold that first gown against you,” the countess ordered me. I took a breath. I had been thinking this over since the men had told me that I would be required to wear a dress for supper. I knew curst well they would ask no such thing of Tunstall. This was more of the Gentle Mother business, stripping fighting women of the symbols of their battles.
“Begging my lady’s pardon,” I said, looking at the ground in order to appear as meek as I could, “but I must wear my uniform at all times.”
The room went dead quiet. Even the little dogs seemed to know sommat was up.
“You will do no such thing,” the countess replied.
“Forgive me, Your Ladyship, but I must,” I repeated. “I am not here on my own. I am on a Hunt. In that respect I am here as a Provost’s Guard, which means I am on duty. I cannot go without my uniform.” I glanced at Lady Sabine, who gave me the tiniest of nods. “I have cleaner uniforms, wherever my bags ended up.”
“Ridiculous!” the countess said. “There is no need for your … work here! You are our guest, and as our guest, you will abide by the rules of this house!” When I glanced up, she had turned to my lady. “Lady Sabine, you are in charge of your party. Tell her to obey me at once!”
My lady started to scratch her head and stopped, remembering that was a rude, common gesture, I think. She had gotten it from Tunstall. “In fact, Countess Aeldra, I am not in charge,” she said. “I am employed in the service of the Lord Provost. It is Senior Corporal Matthias Tunstall who is in command of our group. You will easily recognize him at supper. He will be wearing the same uniform as Guardswoman Cooper.”
The countess pressed her hands together palm to palm and touched her fingertips under her chin. I was not sure if she was trying to pray or if she was calling on the household gods by imitating the coat of arms of Queensgrace. “It is a meal, with Prince Baird, the Baron of Aspen Vale, and his brother, who is a powerful mage, as our guests. You cannot possibly have reason to wear your uniform then or at any other time while you are in women’s quarters!” She was beginning to sport a bit of a flush on her cheekbones.
I glanced at Sabine. It seemed Master Niccols had not told his countess why we were here. My lady gave me a little nod to say she was ready to help me.
“My lady countess, I have every reason to wear my uniform here,” I told her quietly. “We search for a noble’s kidnapped child. My hound found the child’s scent in this very room when we entered it. We are working in this castle.”
The countess gripped my right wrist. I found a bruise there later. “I will have no more of your nonsense,” she began.
Sabine rested her own hand on the countess’s shoulder. “Cousin, release Cooper immediately. She tells the truth. I informed your steward when we arrived why we were here.”
“He said nothing about evidence. I would have known of a kidnapped child,” the lady began.
“He is disguised as a slave,” I informed her. “He has been working here with other slaves. Would you have seen him, my lady?”
We heard a soft growl from below and looked down. Achoo had come over. She looked at Countess Aeldra, her lips peeled back just enough to show her front teeth. I could have told my hound to stop, but I wasn’t minded to just then.
“My sitting room, right now,” the countess said. “Baylisa, ask my lord if he will grant me the honor of his company as soon as may be!” She released me and led us to the back of the room, where a door stood open.
As Achoo, Pounce, Sabine, and I followed, I murmured to my lady, “So much for Gentle Mothers.”
Sabine shook her head. “I fear Aeldra needs to work harder on her peace of heart,” she replied just as quietly.
If she tries to handle Beka so roughly again, I will help myself to a piece of her skin, Pounce said.
Once we were inside the room, I closed the door behind us. It was more an office than a sitting room, though a crescent of chairs and chests with cushioned tops was placed near parchment windows. Three more chairs were set before the desk. The countess sat behind it and gestured for Sabine to have a seat, but she offered me no such courtesy. She glared at Achoo and Pounce. “These animals belong out of doors.”
“They remain as long as Guardswoman Cooper and I do, Cousin,” replied Sabine. “They are both important parts of our investigation.”
“A cat!” the countess said. There could not have been more scorn in her voice if she had been drinking it. “Are there Provost’s Guard cats now?”
Sabine leaned forward, her face white and intent. “We need not explain ourselves here.” She reached into her sleeve and drew out a folded paper with a seal on it. “We are under the Provost’s orders. You will note he has used the seal of the Great Charter, which all noble houses are required to obey.” She placed the paper on the desk.
The countess opened it with her fingertips, as if she thought something in the orders might soil her skin. For a long moment she glared at the writing before she lifted the document to the light of the candles, turning it this way and that to examine it. Then she took a pinch of powder from a dish on the desk and sprinkled it on the seal. There was a flash of light and the scent of burning rope.
“Cousin, you teeter on the edge of insulting me,” Lady Sabine told her. She was straight as a baton on her chair. “Were I not a patient woman, you would have fallen over that edge just now. Those documents are not forgeries. By my blood and by my birth, my word as a knight of this realm should be good enough!”
Sommat in her eyes must have shaken the countess. The mot placed Lady Sabine’s paper on the desk and tried to smile. “I meant no disrespect to any oaths you have sworn, my dear. But this is an accusation of great weight, come from one common born.” Her gaze was frosty as she looked at me.
I burned, but I kept my gob shut.
&nb
sp; “It is no accusation, Cousin,” my lady said, her voice and face still furious. “It is a fact. Someone brought that child into this house, into your ladies’ very solar.” She turned to me. “Where else, Guardswoman Cooper?”
Sabine I would gladly answer. “The great hall, the woodpiles that serve the hearth in the great hall and the kitchen, the henhouse, the kitchen, the hall where the noble guests are staying, the woodpile which serves that hall, and the ladies’ solar.” I glanced at the countess, who had folded her hands in her lap. “Achoo and I have not yet finished. We have not yet found where he is now.” I would give Linnet’s information, that a cart and several slaves, including Prince Gareth, had left the castle a day ago, to Sabine later.
“We do not harbor criminals!” the countess snapped.
She was not clever, saying things that were complete nonsense. “Most barrel trappers don’t walk the day with their coat of arms flying on a stick, my lady,” I said. “Plenty of them don’t even look that common.”