The Tower of Ravens (50 page)

“Urrk!” Felice cried.

“A pickled baby?” Rafferty and Landon both echoed.

“Surely no‘!” Edithe said.

Wilma nodded. “Aye. He collects such things. Folk hereabouts are always on the look-out for curiosities, for he pays well for them. He has drawers and drawers o‘ old bones and stones and skulls, and lots o’ dead paws and hands. I seen them once. Normally us maids do no‘ clean his library, his gillie does that for him, but I was sent to fetch something for him and I saw the bear, it’s near twice as tall as me and looks like it’s alive! And some o’ the drawers o‘ the cabinet were open, and so I couldna resist having a quick peek. I had nightmares after, though, I tell ye what! O’ dead hands creeping after me—”

“Wilma, have ye naught better to do than stand here gossiping?” Dedrie spoke sharply from the doorway.

Wilma jumped as if she had been stuck with a pin, and made a hasty curtsy. “Sorry, ma’am, o‘ course, ma’am, I’ll go now, ma’am,” she squeaked, and hurriedly clattered everything onto the tray and made a hasty exit, almost tipping the whole lot to the floor in her discomfiture.

Dedrie shook her head indulgently. “Lasses! They are all the same. Will stand around all morn repeating idle gossip instead o‘ getting their work done.”

“Is there something I can do for ye?” Nina asked in a cool voice. “We were just about to get ready for breakfast.”

“Och, naught. I’ve just brought yon lassie some more borage syrup.” Dedrie lifted her basket of medicines, but did not come in. “I would no‘ have disturbed ye, but I heard young Wilma chattering on, and did no’ want her bothering ye. It is so hard to get reliable servants nowadays!”

“Rhiannon is sleeping peacefully,” Nina said, her brows drawing together. “I do no‘ think she should be disturbed.”

“I’ll only be a moment,” Dedrie said with a warm smile, and turned to go.

“Nay!” Nina cried, getting to her feet.

Dedrie looked round in surprise. As the light of the room fell upon her face, Lewen saw in surprise that, as well as the nasty bruise blooming on her temple, the nursemaid’s skin was badly blistered and raw all down one side, as if she had been burnt.

“I do no‘ want her woken,” Nina said, with a fair attempt at a smile. “Sleep is the best thing for her. Leave the medicine with me and I’ll offer it to her when she wakes.”

Lewen smothered a grin. He knew that witches all took an oath of truth-telling when they joined the Coven, a restriction that often irked those who worked in secret on the Rìgh’s behalf, like Nina and Iven, or Finn the Cat and Jay the Fiddler. He recognised an evasion of the truth when he heard it. Nina may offer Rhiannon the medicine, but both she and Lewen knew that Rhiannon would most certainly refuse it.

By the look on Dedrie’s face, she knew it too.

“Och, my lady, no need to trouble yourself,” she said. “Ye go on down to breakfast and I’ll look after the lass. That’s my job, after all.”

“No need,” Nina said pleasantly. “Ye have done enough for us all. I’m sure a morning in bed will work wonders for Rhiannon, and we will hopefully all be out o‘ your hair by this afternoon.”

Dedrie’s smile was unnaturally rigid. “But my laird… I mean, what about the fallen tree? It has proved difficult to move with the weather so rough.”

“Today looks set to be fair,” Nina said, glancing out the window. The sky was crystal-sharp and azure-blue, and the windblown leaves of the trees glittered as if they had been polished. “I am sure the laird’s men will have no trouble moving the tree now that the storm has blown over.”

“The ground is still very wet and slippery,” Dedrie said sharply.

“Och, we will go and lend a hand or two,” Iven said cheerfully. “I’m sure we’ll manage. We have trespassed long enough on your laird’s hospitality.”

“But the lass with the dog bites… ye canna mean to move her so soon. In those rough, jolting caravans!” Dedrie sounded scandalised.

“Maisie is much better,” Nina said firmly. “Aren’t ye, dearling?”

“Aye,” Maisie said uncertainly.

“She shall spend the morning resting too, and then when the tree is gone and the road clear again, we’ll be on our way. We’ll make sure Maisie is as comfortable as possible.”

“I canna agree to ye moving the lass with the fever,” Dedrie said. “I dinna think ye realise just how sick she is. I’ve seen fevers like that afore. Expose her to a nasty wind like that, and all the jolting o‘ those caravans, and ye could kill her, I warn ye.”

“I think ye underestimate Rhiannon,” Nina said. “She’s very strong and her fever really does no‘ seem that bad. I think she’s just caught a chill.”

“Well, on your own head be it,” Dedrie said angrily. She turned to go.

“Happen ye had best leave the medicine with me,” Nina said, holding out her hand.

Dedrie grasped her basket tightly to her. “Och, no need,” she answered. “If the lass is sleeping I’ll leave her be. I’ll look in on her later. Ye had best all be getting ready for breakfast, my laird does no‘ like to be kept waiting.”

“So we’ve gathered,” Nina said dryly. Dedrie gave a curt nod of her head, a quick fake smile, and left.

Nina went and shut the door behind her. “Did ye see her face?” she said quietly to Iven. “I told ye that Rhiannon spat her medicine out all over her. Do ye think… ?”

“Surely no‘! Imagine what such medicine would do to your insides if… Eà’s green blood! I see what ye mean. Do ye really think so?”

Nina stood for a long moment, pondering, then turned to the apprentices, milling uncertainly near the fire.

“Maisie, my dear, I do no‘ think ye should go down to breakfast, ye’re still rather unsteady on your poor auld pins. Do ye want to go back to bed for a while, and I’ll arrange to have some food sent up to ye?” Maisie nodded and got up stiffly from her chair. One heavily bandaged arm was in a sling and she limped painfully. “Rafferty, help Maisie back to her room, will ye?”

As Rafferty offered the injured girl his arm, Nina rubbed her forehead as if it pained her.

“I do no‘ feel happy about leaving Rhiannon all by herself, or Maisie either,” she said abruptly. “Rhiannon did not seem delirious to me. Landon, would ye mind staying with them? Ye still have a bit o’ a cough and shouldna be out in that cold wind. I’ll leave Lulu with ye too. Send her to me if aught happens to worry ye.”

“Ye think Rhiannon’s wild tale is true then?” Cameron asked in some surprise. “Ye suspect we truly may be in danger?”

“I have a very bad feeling,” Nina said. “I want to get us all away from here just as fast as I can.”

Iven put his arm about her. “Your wish is my command, dearling,” he said cheerfully. “Besides, I have a strong suspicion that whey-faced seneschal o‘ the laird’s waters the wine. That stuff he inflicted on us last night was undrinkable!”

“Well, I never thought I’d say this but personally I’ll be glad to ride on,” Felice said. “This castle gives me the creeps.”

“I think ye are all absurd,” Edithe said with an angry titter. “The MacFerris clan is one o‘ the oldest and most respected families in Ravenshaw, and Laird Malvern was perfectly charming. Rhiannon is obviously a hysteric who canna bear no’ being the centre o‘ attention. Personally I find her behaviour absolutely appalling. From the moment she joined our party she has done naught but cause one scene after another. It is all an act, I’m surprised ye canna see that, Nina. She is nothing but a scheming, conniving little cat…”

“Thank ye for your opinion, Edithe,” Nina said wearily. “I think we ken your position on the subject. Shall we all go and dress for breakfast now? I would no‘ like to be late.”

Iven grinned at her. “I wonder what the penalty is for being late to both dinner and breakfast? The dungeons?”

“Do no‘ joke about it,” Nina said with an involuntary shiver. “Happen it’s because I’m a jongleur born and bred and have no liking for high stone walls, but I really do no’ like this place. I feel most uneasy. Let’s just get through breakfast as pleasantly as possible, and get on the road again! Bairns, can we no‘ talk about what Rhiannon thinks she saw last night? Let’s all pretend everything is fine. If by horrible chance any o’ it is true, I do no‘ want to rouse their suspicions.”

The apprentice-witches nodded their heads solemnly, all except Edithe, who sighed and rolled her eyes.

While the others went to wash and dress for the day, Nina beckoned Lewen to come and help her. “I am worried about that stuff Dedrie gave Rhiannon,” she said to him quietly. “Did ye see the blistering on Dedrie’s face? She forced some o‘ that stuff down Rhiannon’s throat. I fear it’s some kind o’ poison. I may no‘ be a healer but I ken something about the art, as all witches must. I’m going to mix up an emetic and give it to Rhiannon. I’ll make her very sick but at least it’ll get that stuff out o’ her stomach. The thing is, I’ll need your help to get it down her. She trusts ye more than anyone. Will ye help me?”

“O‘ course,” Lewen answered, feeling light-headed with the rush of instant anxiety. “Will it have done her any harm already?”

“I dinna ken,” Nina answered. “I do no‘ ken what was in the potion. I hope no’. I think it would no‘ work too quickly, they’d want her death to look natural.”

Lewen’s skin crept with horror. He hurried to Rhiannon’s room as quickly as he could, while Nina made up her emetic. The satyricorn lay in her bed, her black hair spread out all over the pillow, damp with perspiration. Her face was damp too, and flushed crimson, and he saw in dismay that her lips were badly blistered. She moaned and turned her head restlessly on her pillow, her hands clutching at the counterpane. Suddenly she jerked upright and said something in a loud, guttural voice, in a language he did not recognise. Her eyes stared straight at him but did not recognise him.

Lewen soothed her, laying her back on her pillows, then wrung out a cloth in cold water and laid it on her forehead. She flung it from her irritably. He picked it up again and gently dabbed her face and neck with it. Within seconds it was warm to the touch.

“She’s feverish,” he said shortly to Nina, as she came hurrying in with her hands full of bottles.

Nina felt her forehead and then her pulse. “Aye. I hope I willna be doing her more harm than good by giving her the stonecrop. It’s hard to ken what’s best to do. Am I maligning that nursemaid, suspecting her o‘ trying to poison Rhiannon? Happen she saw the coming o’ the fever better than me.”

Rhiannon moaned and twisted in the bed, uttering more unintelligible gibberish.

“Her mouth is blistered,” Lewen said.

Nina looked closely, then gently slid her fingers into Rhiannon’s mouth so she could open it and inspect her tongue and gums. Rhiannon grimaced and tried instinctively to bite. Nina withdrew her fingers quickly.

“Aye, and so are her gums. Poor lass. Here, lift her up and hold her still, Lewen. I’m going to give her the stonecrop, and then I’ll try to dab on something to ease those ulcers.”

Lewen did as he was told. Rhiannon shrieked and flung herself back when she felt his hands on her, but he spoke softly in her ear and she calmed, seeming to rouse a little.

“Here, Rhiannon, swallow this for me, sweetling,” Nina coaxed, holding a beaker of some thick, green liquid to her lips. Rhiannon moaned and moved her head away. Lewen shifted his grasp so he cupped the back of her head in his hand. The nape of her neck was damp and hot. He slid his other hand round to cup her chin and swiftly Nina tipped the beaker up.

Rhiannon went mad with fear, and Lewen had to hold her tightly to keep her still. He pushed her mouth shut and she swallowed instinctively, though her body twisted and flailed like a trout on the river bank. One hand caught him a glancing blow on his face, but grimly he held her firm until she had swallowed every drop. Then he relaxed his grip and tenderly laid her down. She opened her eyes, staring at him with such a look of terror that his heart lurched.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it had to be done,” he said.

She gazed at him with a blank, wild-eyed look, then suddenly began to vomit. Nina and Lewen flinched back, then hurried to support her, Lewen holding her upright while Nina thrust the bowl she had brought under the satyricorn’s face.

For almost ten minutes Rhiannon retched, until there was nothing left in her to lose. As each paroxysm passed, she would stare up at Lewen with such a heart-wrenching look of hurt and betrayal that he felt quite miserable and choked in the throat. At last the vomiting eased, and Nina was able to give her something to help her sleep, and soothe some balm onto her blistered lips and gums. Rhiannon was so exhausted by then that she barely resisted. Lewen was able to lay her down, and wash her face and hands while Nina quickly tore off the soiled counterpane and covered her up with the cover from her own bed.

“I’ll wash this out and hang it to dry afore the fire,” Nina said. “We do no‘ want Dedrie to guess what we have done. Hurry and get dressed, Lewen, and make sure ye wash well. We both stink o’ vomit.”

Lewen quickly did as he was told, but even so, by the time he had cleaned himself up and dressed, Wilma was already waiting anxiously at the end of the corridor. Nina came out of her room, looking ruffled, buttoning up one sleeve as she came.

“Are we late?” she asked. Wilma just bit her lip, cast them a scared look, and hurried them down the stairs. She had drawn her cap down low over her forehead but, walking close behind her, Lewen could not help but notice that one ear was red and swollen as if it had been soundly boxed.

The breakfast room was another long, gloomy room with dark panelling and a massive fireplace with an ornately carved mantelpiece. No stuffed animal heads stared down from the walls, but an enormous trout was mounted above the fire and ancient fishing lines and nets were hung all around the rails, above a number of dark paintings depicting limp pheasants with wrung necks, or dead fish with palely gleaming eyes. Lewen and Nina exchanged wry glances.

Lord Malvern sat stiff-backed at the head of the table. He was pale, with deep lines graven from his nose to his mouth, and heavy pouches under his eyes. He looked like a man who had not slept well.

Lady Evaline, her companion Miss Prunella, the librarian, the harper and his son were also sitting silently in their customary places round the table. They too looked strained and tired. As Irving the seneschal bowed and led Nina and the apprentices to their places, the clock on the mantelpiece struck the hour. Without volition they all quickened their step, and Felice gave a nervous giggle as she collapsed into her seat. As soon as the last chime died away, the doors swung open and a procession of silent servants came in carrying covered plates and tureens. Once again meat dominated the menu. There was bacon and eggs, smoked haddock, a side of beef, a plate of kippers, a very pink ham, and eggs scrambled with salmon.