The Skull of the World (23 page)

Isabeau smiled as she heard the sound of giggling from within the playroom. She opened the door and stepped inside, only to be soaked with a deluge of icy-cold water. She shrieked involuntarily as a basin balanced on the top of the door missed her head by inches, clattering on the floor.

"April Fool, April Fool!" Donncan chanted, hovering in the air above her, his golden wings beating strongly.

"Who's the great gowk now?" Neil cried, shouting with laughter. The twins clapped their hands with glee.

Isabeau sighed, laughed, and shook out her wet robe. "Och, ye wicked lads," she cried. "Could ye no' have given me some warning?"

"But it be All Fools' Day," Donncan grinned, landing lightly on the ground, his wings folding. "What be the point o' a trick if ye warn the sucker?"

Isabeau ran her hands down her dripping hair and it sprang up as vigorous and curly as if it had never been drenched. Then she ran her hands down her body until the linen steamed. She looked over at Elsie and grimaced. "Whoever thought o' All Fools' Day should be hung, drawn and quartered!"

"Ye've only just stepped in, my lady. I've been wi' these rapscallions all morn and no' a moment's peace I've had!" the blonde maid replied with a smile. She was sitting sewing by the fire, a white cap framing her pretty face. "First o' all I found an empty eggshell upside down in my eggcup, so when I broke the shell wi' my spoon all I found to eat was air. Then they told me I had a spider on my head and when I shrieked, they rolled on the ground and laughed fit to split their sides. I've been made the gowk o' four times already this morn, my lady, and I've only been here an hour or so."

"But what do ye do here, Elsie? Where be Sukey?"

"She had to step out to run an errand and asked me to mind the bairns for her," Elsie replied, "though she's been gone so long, I think she must be hunting the gowk."

Isabeau gave a sympathetic grimace. "Have ye sent poor Sukey off on a fool's errand?" she said sternly to the boys.

They shook their heads, though Donncan replied cheekily, "We would've if we could've!"

"I'll see if I can find her," Isabeau said frowning. "I want to talk to her about Cuckoo's birthday lunch."

Neil gave another shriek of excitement. The little boy was nicknamed "cuckoo" or "gowk" for he had been born on the first of April, Huntigowk Day. Gowk was another name for cuckoo, and although it was usually used to imply a fool or simpleton, in Neil's case it was used affectionately. Isabeau hugged him lovingly. "Have ye had a happy birthday so far?"

"Aye, indeed! Look! My da and mam had a whole pile o' presents sent for me from Tirsoilleir! There be my very own sword!" Neil brandished a small wooden sword excitedly. "Donncan and me have been playing Bright Soldiers all morning and 'cause it's my birthday, I got to be the seanalair o' the Graycloaks for a change!"

"Well, that was very nice o' Donncan to let ye have a turn, Cuckoo," Isabeau said. Donncan grinned, perceiving the subtle irony of her words, but it went straight over Neil's head, the little boy agreeing happily.

The son of Iain MacFoghnan of Arran and Elfrida NicHilde of Tirsoilleir, Neil had been sent to stay within the safety of Lucescere while his parents were busy winning back the Crown of the Forbidden Land. The NicHilde clan had been deposed as the rulers of Tirsoilleir when Elfrida was just a little girl, the land being ruled by the cruel and corrupt Fealde of Bride. Elfrida had spent her childhood locked up in the infamous Black Tower, only being released as a young woman when the Fealde negotiated a marriage of convenience for her with the son of Margrit NicFoghnan of Arran. Although both Iain and Elfrida had been unwilling pawns in Margrit's machiavellian plots, the marriage of convenience had soon blossomed into a true, abiding love. The young couple had managed to break free of those who sought to manipulate them, fleeing Arran and giving their support to Lachlan. In return, the young Righ had helped to drive the treacherous Margrit out of Arran, giving the throne to her son. Now he endeavored to do the same for Elfrida.

Neil's face suddenly clouded and he looked down. "I wish Da and Mam could have been here for my birthday."

Isabeau knelt beside him and hugged him close. "Aye, I ken," she said softly. "But the last news we had from Tirsoilleir was very good indeed and they do no' think it will be very long afore all o' Tirsoilleir submits to your mother's rule. Once the country is at peace again ye can go and join your parents again, and get to see what the land beyond the Great Divide looks like. Will that no' be an adventure, my wee cuckoo?"

"I wish the war was over. They've been away such an awful long time."

Isabeau nodded. Nine months seemed like a long time to her too, and she was not six years old. She hugged him again and said, "Never mind, dearling. At least ye are here at Lucescere with us, no' in Arran all by yourself. And today is your birthday, and no time to be sad. Happen your parents will have sent a pigeon with a birthday message for ye?"

"That be what Sukey said," Neil replied, brightening. "Do ye think they would?"

"I'm
sure
they would," Isabeau replied.

"My da and mam sent me a birthday letter by pigeon post," Donncan said, floating up near the ceiling so he could examine the painted nisses' strange, triangular faces. "And even though it was snowy and stormy the pigeon made it safely, though it was three days late."

"Pigeons do no' ken much about days and times," Isabeau said, smiling, "but they always fly just as fast as they can so if there be no letter today, Neil, I'm sure there will be one soon."

He nodded and began to play again, Donncan flying down to join him. Isabeau smiled at Elsie rather ruefully. "I'll go and see if I can find Sukey. I do hope she has no' been made an April Fool. If she's been made to hunt the cuckoo, she could be anywhere!"

Elsie nodded. "No' that I mind, my lady," she said. "I be far more comfortable here by the fire than I would be down scrubbing pots in the kitchen. I be hoping that if I help Sukey out often enough she'll be putting in a good word for me to Her Highness and I'll be getting a job as assistant nurserymaid."

Isabeau nodded, hoping that Elsie was not dropping a hint in her direction as well. She had known Elsie since they had been scullery maids together at Rhyssmadill and had never really liked her. It may just have been that Elsie was altogether too pretty and knew it. Though Isabeau preferred to think she disliked the maid because Elsie was quick to tease others. Or at least she had been in the days when Isabeau had been nothing but a clumsy cook's apprentice with a crippled hand. Now Isabeau was sister-in-law to the Righ himself and a banprionnsa in her right, Elsie was all smiles and friendliness.

Isabeau bid the children farewell, promising to return soon, and went out into the corridor, smiling at the guards who stood poker-faced against the wall.

Although Isabeau did not have the precise searching and finding powers of the MacRuraich clan, she could still sense out the minds of those she knew well, if they were nearby. She was worried Sukey may have been sent "hunting the gowk" as a practical joke, sent perhaps to find a penny's worth of elbow-grease or a pot of striped paint as was common on All Fools' Day.

To her relief Isabeau felt Sukey close by, somewhere in the tangle of stables, kennels, pigpens, hencoops and fishponds behind the kitchen gardens. She made her way through the kitchen wing to the pigeon loft above the stables.

"Be Sukey Nurserymaid here?" Isabeau asked the pigeon-fancier who was busy cleaning out cages near the doorway.

"Och, aye, she be here," he answered, twinkling at her. "She is often here checking on her birds, making sure I be caring for them properly."

"Sukey has her own pigeons?"

"Och, aye. She be a right fancier herself. Lovely it is, to see a lassie taking such an interest in the bonny wee birds. It seems the puir lass be homesick, and she and her young brother send each other bits o' news about their doings. It make sense, rightly, for ye can never trust the jongleurs or the peddlers no' to take months in the taking o' a message, or no' to be forgetting it, while the pigeons'll never let ye down."

"Aye, but ye must be able to read," Isabeau reminded him. "Most o' the common folk canna read, remember, and so asking the peddlers to remember their news and pass it on is the only choice they have."

"Aye, that be true, unless o' course ye can be speaking wi' the birds, like ye and our blessed Righ."

"Aye, but then ye must rely on the pigeons remembering the message and ye must admit they be rather birdbrained."

The pigeon-fancier laughed heartily. "Och, it's a wit she is," he said. "And me never hearing that one before."

Isabeau smiled. "Where she be?"

"Her birds are kept right down the far end, on the right," he answered. "She loves her pretty doves, young Sukey."

Isabeau made her way down the long, dim, dusty room, the cooing of the pigeons masking the drum of her boot heels on the wooden floor. She came around the corner and found Sukey sitting on a barrel, reading a scrap of paper, her forehead creased in a frown.

"Dinna tell me ye were sent to find a pint o' pigeon's milk?" Isabeau asked cheerfully. "Surely ye're no' such a gowk!"

Sukey gave a little scream and leaped to her feet, the paper clutched to her heart. "Havers, ye scared me!"

"Sorry," Isabeau said. She poked a finger in through the slats of one of the cages to stroke the soft plumage of the pigeon inside. Softly she cooed to it and the pigeon cooed back.

"Can ye be speaking to pigeons then?" Sukey asked a little uneasily. "I only thought it was owls ye could talk to."

Isabeau cocked an eyebrow at her, a little surprised at the nursemaid's unease. "I can speak both the common language o' birds and most o' the dialects. Dinna ye ken?"

Sukey shook her head. Folding up the paper and thrusting it into her pocket she pushed past Isabeau, saying, "Let's get out o' here, the dust and straw gives me an itchy nose."

Isabeau followed her, saying, with some puzzlement, "Seems an odd hobby for ye to have then, if pigeons give ye hayfever."

Sukey glanced back at her, smiling. "Hobby? I wouldna call it that. Nay, I was just up here to see if there was a message for Cuckoo from his parents, it being his birthday and all."

"Oh, was there?" Isabeau said eagerly as they came out of the long rows of coops to the front part of the loft where the pigeon-fancier was grinding corn.

"Aye," Sukey answered, just as the pigeon-fancier cried, "Has she given ye the happy news then?"

"I havena had a chance yet, ye auld tattlemonger," Sukey laughed. She grinned up at Isabeau. "The news is only just in and yet I swear the smallest chimneysweep will ken it all before the chancellor has even opened the message tube!"

"News from Tirsoilleir?" Isabeau cried.

"Aye. They've won through to Bride with barely a man lost, and the Fealde and the General Assembly have all fled or surrendered! The NicHilde is to be crowned this week," the pigeon-fancier cried. "Grand news indeed, aye?"

"Och, the wee Cuckoo will be so happy," Isabeau said.

Sukey's face clouded a little, but she nodded and smiled, leading the way down the rickety ladder to the stables.

"Is something wrong?" Isabeau asked, remembering the frown on Sukey's face as she had read her note. "Have ye had bad news from home?"

"Och, no' at all," Sukey replied. "Although I shall be sad to lose our wee cuckoo. He be such a sweet laddiekin and such company for Donncan, who I swear grows naughtier every day."

Isabeau told her about the basin of water above the door and Sukey laughed. "Indeed, Huntigowk Day just gives them an excuse for even more mischief," she said. "I put my arm into my dress this morn only to find the sleeve sewn up, and then found an upside-down eggshell in my eggcup . . ."

"They repeated that trick for Elsie," Isabeau said with a smile. "And when we could no' find ye, we were afraid ye'd been sent off hunting the cuckoo."

"Nay, hunting the pigeon instead," Sukey said cheerfully. "What were ye wanting me for?"

"I just wanted to make sure all our plans for Cuckoo's birthday lunch were in place," Isabeau answered as they walked through the kitchen garden. She bent and crushed some rosemary leaves in her fingers, inhaling the sharp odor. "He misses his parents so much, the poor wee laddie, that I really want to do something special for him. Meghan has given me the key to the secret door in the back wall so we can take them out into the forest for a picnic as we planned."

"They'll love that! The hours they've spent trying to find that door. I swear they have pushed and pulled every knob and shield on that back wall a hundred times."

"If it was that easy to find, it wouldna be much use as a secret door, would it?"

"Nay, I suppose no'. I must admit I'm curious myself, having heard the story about how the rebels came in that way and took the palace guard by surprise more times than I can count."

"I've asked Fergus the Cook to prepare us all Cuckoo's favorite foods and I made his birthday cake myself for I swear I was afraid the Cook would cause it to fall flat with all his sour looks."

"Aye, he's a crosspatch," Sukey giggled. "If he were no' such a good cook, he'd have been thrown out years ago."