Exile (10 page)

“So that leaves two doors,” responded Masou. “One on the right and one on the left. And we must choose carefully, for behind one lies the panther with his sharp teeth and claws!”

I smiled. “Rajah is not fierce,” I told him, as I slowly opened the door on the right and peeped inside. “In fact, look, he's sleeping like a baby.”

Rajah heard our voices and lifted his head. Masou stepped back quickly. But Rajah merely looked at us sleepily, gave a great yawn, and laid his head down again.

“He's a big baby,” said Masou.

I shut Rajah's door softly and we moved to the other. Masou opened it and we peered inside. The chamber was just like any other dressing room—full of clothes, trunks, presses, and chests. It was all lit faintly by the wintry light coming in through the window.

“The window provides another way of entering
this chamber,” I pointed out. “The thief could have sneaked in that way and no one guarding outside the door would have known.” I went over to it and opened the casement. Masou and I leant out. We could see our breath in the cold air. I looked down to the flagstones of the Great Courtyard, far below. “Is it possible to climb up here from the ground, do you think?” I asked Masou. “We're ever so high.”

Masou shook his head. “Only a spider could make that journey,” he replied. “The bricks are too smooth to offer hand or footholds, and there are no window ledges.”

I sighed. “So the thief could not have come in this way.”

“Wait a minute!” cried Masou. He was craning his neck to try and see the top of the tower. Then, to my astonishment, he leaped up onto the windowsill!

“Whatever are you doing?” I cried.

“It may not be possible to climb up to this window,” he said, holding the window frame as he leant out. “But someone might have climbed down from that casement above. See, this brickwork is more decorated. I can put my hand here and my foot thus and …”

And with that he had gone!

I hardly dared to look. He balanced his feet on tiny ledges of brick and clung with his fingertips to ridges barely visible above him. Then, before I knew it, he had swung up like a monkey and was perched on the ledge of the window above. All I could see were his legs dangling down, and above, the grey clouds scudding across the sky. I felt as if the tower were falling onto me. It made me feel quite sick.

“It is a room with many palliasses in it,” Masou called down to me. “I wonder who sleeps here. I shall enter.” There was a pause. “Or at least, I would if the window had an opening!”

Then he called again. “Wait! There is another window to this chamber—a smaller one. I am certain I can reach it.”

“Be careful!” I shouted.

Masou stretched out his hands and I thought he would plummet to his death. I covered my eyes. What a coward you are, Grace, I thought, and opened them again. Masou was clinging by the tips of his fingers to the ledge of the other window. Then he pulled himself up and I heard a curse. “By Shaitan!” he cried. “I can open this one but it is far too small for me to go through. Move away. I am coming back.”

It seemed we were doomed to failure. I stepped
back into the dressing room and Masou swung in through the window and dropped lightly onto the floor. Together we scoured the room for any other possible entrances or exits. But there was nothing.

“So we are back to magic then!” I groaned. “It is a shame we didn't have that wager, Masou, or you would have won some money. Poor Ellie.”

“I tried to visit her this morning,” said Masou, “but they would not let a humble tumbler past the guard.”

“Then we shall go together,” I decided. “They will not deny you if you are with me.”

As we left, I pressed some more coins into Samuel's hand and told him that there was no sign of magic and he had won his wager.

Then I smiled—coyly, I like to think. “I pray you will not tell anyone that we were here, Samuel,” I said winningly. “I would not want Banoo Yasmine to learn that we were dealing lightly with a matter that means much to her.”

“I don't know what you're talking about, my lady,” said Samuel, grinning. “No one has passed through this door since the Banoo herself left to go hunting.”

Ellie's face lit up when she saw us. “What did the Queen say when you told her the casket was locked and I couldn't have stolen the jewel?” she asked eagerly. Poor Ellie was trusting that I had already cleared her name.

“I am sorry,” I said, trying to make myself comfortable on a rickety painted box. “But the casket had been left unlocked. So I could prove nothing.”

Ellie's face fell. “I might have known it were too good to be true,” she murmured. The candle spluttered suddenly. “Oh no,” she whispered. “That flame won't last long. And now it looks as if I'll be needing another light.”

“I will see to it,” I told her. “Don't you worry. Now, Masou and I have been up to the Banoo's chambers,” I went on, trying to sound cheerful. “We thought the thief might have used the window to enter.”

“I never thought of that!” said Ellie. Then she frowned. “Though it's too high up, surely. He would have to fly in like a bird!”

“Masou has proved that it is possible for a skilled tumbler to climb down from a window above,” I explained.

“So you only have to tell Her Majesty and I'll be free,” Ellie declared, her face lighting up again with sudden hope.

“There is just one problem,” said Masou solemnly. “The window above is not large enough for anyone to climb through. I doubt even Gypsy Pete could make himself so small.”

Ellie sighed heavily. “I got my hopes up again,” she whispered. “I truly am cursed by the ruby.”

“We have not given up, Ellie,” I told her.

There was silence. None of us seemed to know what to say next. Then Masou came to the rescue.

He leaped up and addressed the dragon's head in the corner. “Ah-ha!” he declared. “I see an old foe! I thought I had slain thee, foul worm, last St. George's day.” He picked up a wooden sword and capered about, parrying and thrusting at the beast, much to Ellie's delight.

“I remember that feast,” I said, grateful to Masou for giving Ellie back her smile. “You should have seen it, Ellie. Masou slew the dragon and everybody cheered as he carried the maiden to safety.”

“It near broke my back!” said Masou ruefully.

“That was French Louis under that veil.”

“I know,” I giggled. “I could see his beard!”

“Show me how you fought the dragon again, Masou,” pleaded Ellie.

And Masou capered around the tiny storeroom, brandishing his sword, while Ellie clapped her hands, happy for a moment.

“You are a good audience, Ellie.” Masou grinned.

“I wish you had been there when I scaled the tower just now. Grace seemed remarkably unimpressed. Rather than applause, I heard only squeaks of fear from my lady! You would have cheered me on.” He sighed. “If I could just have squeezed myself through that little window.”

We were all silent. The hopelessness of Ellie's situation seemed to hang over us again like a dark cloud.

Then Ellie suddenly threw her arms in the air.

“That's it!” she cried.

We looked at her in astonishment.

“You may not be able to fit through the small window, Masou, but one of them snake men could. You remember, you told us about them.”

“By my hat!” exclaimed Masou in surprise. “I had not thought of that!”

“Is it possible, Masou?” I asked. I could not bear to give Ellie any more false hope. “Do you think a snake man could get through that window?”

Masou frowned. “Indeed,” he said thoughtfully. “I am certain that a snake man such as those I saw in Sharakand could do it.”

“Then that could be our answer!” I declared, and found I was gripping the sides of my seat hard with excitement.

“But, alas, there are no snake men in Mr. Somers's troupe,” sighed Masou. “And in truth, I have not seen nor heard of one in all my time in England.”

“But there could be one among the Banoo's servants!” I almost shouted.

Masou's eyes lit up and he nodded.

“Well done, Ellie!” I said, jumping up and hugging her. “You have found the answer!”

“Now we just need to find the snake man!” put in Masou with a grin.

“It can only be one who is sleeping in that chamber above,” I pointed out. “For only one of them would have easy access to the window, and could slip out in the night without rousing the others. Can you find out who is sleeping in there, Masou?” I asked eagerly.

“Without delay!” he promised.

And though we had to leave Ellie, we were leaving her with some real hope this time—and a candle that I insisted the guard give her.

From my hiding place in the alcove I can hear the other Maids coming along the passage on their way to supper. How hungry I am! The cheese and apples were days ago—or so my stomach seems to think.

THE NINETEENTH DAY OF JANUARY,
IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 1570

I have come up to the musicians' gallery in the Great Hall to write, as I will not be disturbed here, with luck.

As I was leaving the Great Hall after breakfast, Masou hissed at me from behind a door. I joined him and he told me that he had discovered who is sleeping in the room above the Banoo's. It is three of her pages: Anoosh, Faruk, and Babak. Surely one of these must be the thief!

And I have made a plan to find out which one.

First I thought about the three pages. Two are young and thin. Either could be a snake man. The third one, Babak, who presented the ruby to the Queen, is very different. He is plump and even older than the Queen. He is far too old and fat to be
clambering about on the palace walls and squeezing himself through tiny windows. But I thought his age might be of use to me because he could have years of knowledge of the Banoo's retinue. So, I decided to find him first.

After a long search I came across him taking some empty bowls back to the kitchen. I think Rajah's breakfast had been in them, for they had been licked clean. I am very pleased with the excuse I thought of to speak with him.

“Noble sir,” I said. “I would beg a few moments of your time, for I seek information and I believe you are the only person who can help me.”

He was flattered, I could see. “At your service, gracious lady,” he said, making me a bow with a great flourish. His English was very heavily accented and he rolled his “r”s like the purring of a cat.

“There has been word of a potential betrothal between one of the Banoo's pages and Lady Sarah Bartelmy,” I told him in a low voice. “It is but a whisper, and we know not which young man it concerns, but the Queen would like to learn a little more about Anoosh and Faruk. Of course, she cannot ask directly, if you catch my meaning. But you are well acquainted with them, I think.”

“I serve the Banoo's family all my life,” said Babak, puffing out his ample chest. “I see her grow from baby to beautiful woman. But Anoosh and Farrruk—they are newly come into her service. I know little of them.”

“Are they of good birth at least?” I asked. “I know the Queen would not countenance a suitor for Lady Sarah who was from a family of say … tumblers!”

Babak smiled. “They are both silly young men, as most young men are. I am thinking your Queen would not like a match between a Maid of Honour and one of them, no matter what family he is from.”