Wild Bells to the Wild Sky (62 page)

"Thank you. That is most kind of you..." Valentine Whitelaw paused, unable to thank the obliging man by name.

"Will. William Shakespeare. I live in Stratford. My father owns a shop there. He is a glove maker."

"Master Shakespeare. I am Valentine Whitelaw, and this is my nephew, Simon Whitelaw, and this is Mustafa, my friend and most trusted companion," Valentine made the introductions. "We are in your debt, sir, for we would have lost valuable time if we had missed this shortcut."

"Oh? Indeed, sir, then I am most heartily glad to have been of some service to you. I trust your business will be concluded to your satisfaction," he replied politely.

"You haven't by any chance seen three young people, strangers to these parts, traveling in a cart pulled by oxen? They would be in the company of two men, one large, the other short, and a woman? And, they might even have had a monkey and a parrot, as well as a mastiff traveling with them?" Valentine questioned.

"No, I am afraid I have not seen them, and I would surely have remembered such unusual traveling companions-although, I am reminded of something... Ah, they are the very same ones Maire Lester spoke of, yes? You are searching for them?"

"Yes, they've run away from their guardian, who mistreated them, and we have to find them," Simon said.

"How unfortunate. They seem to have led a life full of misadventure," Will Shakespeare said. "I do wish you well. Whitelaw?" he murmured. "The name sounds familiar. Have I heard it before, sir?" he questioned, gazing at the Turk more closely, his eyes narrowed with interest as if he longed to know the reason why a Turkish gentleman was traveling with an Englishman in the heart of England.

"My uncle is a famous privateer. He has sailed with Drake, and now he is captain of his own ship, the Madrigal," Simon told the young man proudly when Valentine remained silent.

"Of course. I am honored, sir. I have heard of your exploits. I have listened with great interest to news of such travels. Would it be too much to ask, sir, if you might share with me a few descriptions of the New World while we walk along the road? I would like to learn more of those strange lands and your travels," he requested, and for the next half hour his questions came without end while he listened attentively, his eyes aglow with dreams as yet unfulfilled.

"Perhaps one day you will travel to the New World and be able to see it for yourself," Valentine said with a smile for the young man's wide-eyed interest.

"Oh, I doubt that, sir, for I am to wed in two months' time. I shall not wander far from
Stratford
. I doubt I shall even travel as far as London," Will Shakespeare announced. "There 'tis, the windmill. If you look carefully, you might be able to make out the sails," he said, pointing to a bulky shape through the trees, and Valentine Whitelaw was not surprised that they'd missed it the first time. "It has been a pleasure, sir. Godspeed you on your next voyage. Master Simon, Mustafa," he nodded to them.

Valentine Whitelaw bid him a friendly farewell before he sent his horse up the grassy bank, toward the windmill.

"So long," Simon called when William Shakespeare glanced back and waved, and while Simon watched, the young man disappeared along the road.

"Dulcie, aren't you hungry?" Lily asked in concern, placing her hand against Dulcie's forehead.

Dulcie sneezed a couple of times in response, then grinned up at her sister through a tangle of black hair. "I'm starved," she said, fidgeting beneath Lily's hand while her sister tried to brush some order into her curls.

"I thought we were going to eat rabbit last night," she demanded.

"Farley couldn't catch one," Lily said, trying to hide her own disappointment at the stale loaf of bread and narrow wedge of cheese they'd had to divide up for dinner. They'd eaten the
last
of the meat pie they'd bought in Burford for dinner the night before, and the last of the fruit and nuts had disappeared at lunch.

"What about that fat trout?"

"Farley couldn't see in the dark, dear," Lily explained.
It had taken Farley and Fairfax so long in their unsuccessful try to catch a rabbit, that it had grown dark before they'd had a chance to try their luck in the shallow stream that ran through the trees nearby.

"Things will be different today, I promise," Lily said, kissing Dulcie's wide brow. The sun was shining and Farley and Tristram had gone ahead to make certain the narrow track they were following was passable. Lily raised her face to the warmth of the sun. The rain, falling in cold sheets the night before, hadn't helped their dispositions, especially when it had put out their fire and the smoke had drifted eerily though the trees and hung in a haze over their camp while they'd huddled on the cold ground beneath the cart.

"Cappie's not hungry. He's been stuffing himself on berries and nuts all morning," Dulcie said enviously while she watched the monkey select another berry from the small pile he'd collected during his early morning foray in the woods. His velvet cap was covered with stickers from the brambles he'd explored, and he'd lost one of the tinkling bells from its pointed tip, which seemed to concern him, for he kept pulling his hat off and examining it closely.

Fairfax had reloaded the cart and wandered off to explore. Tillie was sitting in the space enlarged for her in the back of the cart in case she wanted to lie down and nap during the day. She was mending a pair of Farley's hose, while Cisco walked his perch on the rail, mimicking the chirping of birds and other animals he'd heard during the night. Hearing a startled neigh, Lily looked over in surprise to where Merry had been grazing peacefully in a small meadow, a long length of rope keeping him from straying too far. He was standing still, staring off into the trees. He neighed again, then when there was only silence, he began to feed.

Raphael, who'd been lying at Dulcie's feet, stood up, his ears perked as he listened to something in the trees. Lily was startled to hear him growl and see his fur rising along his spine with warning.

Lily handed Dulcie the brush and walked away from the cart to stare at the shadowy copse just the far side of the meadow.

"Fairfax? Is that you? Hello! Is there anyone there?" she called, shielding her eyes to stare more deeply into the trees. "Fairfax?" Lily called again, but there was no answer.

"What is it, Lily?" Dulcie demanded, coming to stand between Lily and Raphael, who'd
followed
just a step behind Lily like the good watchdog he was.

"I don't know. Probably a doe and more startled than we," Lily said, shrugging off the strange sensation she'd had of being watched.

"Oh, look! There! 'Tis Tristram and Farley, and Fairfax is with them!" Dulcie cried, racing to meet them as they approached from near the copse of trees Lily had been staring into just moments ago.

"Guess what, Lily?" Tristram said, hurrying ahead.

"You saw the road?" Lily guessed, her spirits lifting.

"Well, not exactly, but we did see a farm," he explained. "And we saw some people. There was a woman out feedin' the chickens, with a couple of little children hanging on to her skirts. I saw her husband coming out of the barn with some cows."

" 'Tis through them trees, other side the dale. I was figurin' that I might amble on over there with some of those fancy ribbons and sweet-scented sachets ye made and never got a chance to sell, Mistress Lily. Thought I'd trade them fer some food. Few eggs, bread, cheese, maybe even a nice roast chicken. Reckon the lady down there might want some pretties she can't get without a long trip into the nearest village. And from the look of them kids of hers, I'd reckon she don't get into the village very often. And, of course, I'd be sellin' the ribbons mighty cheap," Farley explained. "Even thought I'd dig into that trunk and get a couple of knives we don't use. Reckon they'd come in handy on the farm. Always use them fer something."

"Can I go too?" Tristram cried.

"Well, I don't know, Master Tristram. Ye'll have to ask Mistress Lily."

"You may go, but I expect you to give Farley a hand," Lily warned.

"Oh, I will, Lily. I will!" Tristram beamed.

"I've been thinkin', Mistress Lily, that the young master might be able to entertain the little ones, keep 'em busy, while I'm about my business. Ye still got them little boxes ye been jugglin'?"

"I can juggle?" Tristram asked, racing away to find the colored boxes before waiting for an answer.

"I was also wonderin', mistress, if ye've still got that one puppet. Ye, know, the only one that survived the fire?" Farley asked curiously.

"The witch?"

"Aye, that be the one. Remember his ugly face, I do."

"Yes, I kept it in my trunk. I thought we'd be making more for another puppet show," Lily said, her expression becoming sad as she remembered Romney Lee. The show had really been his. He had been the inspiration behind so many things, she thought, missing him.

"I thought it might amuse the children and the older folks. Get them in the proper mood fer a little tradin'," Farley said, his smile widening as if he could already boast a successful trade.

"I'll find it. Don' t
you want to go, Fairfax?" Lily asked, for Fairfax had been unusually quiet.

"I thought I'd stay behind, Mistress Lily. Thought while Farley was away doin' the barterin' I might just catch us one of them fat trout I saw in the stream. Make a tasty breakfast, it would," Fairfax said, smacking his lips. "Have it all baked, ready to eat when they get back with the rest of our meal."

"Aye, and 'twould be best if there was someone here with ye," Farley added.

"Maybe I oughta stay, too," Tristram offered, but Lily knew he was eager to go with Farley, because he was already tossing the boxes into the air.

"We won't be gone long. We'll just be through them trees, other side of the brook. In fact, I think I saw where this track heads away into the trees this side of that farm. But the road ain't far after that. That farmer has to have a way to get to market. Reckon we're gettin' toward the end of our journey, Mistress Lily," Farley said, pleased with the fine way the day had begun thus far.

Climbing into the cart, Lily opened the big trunk that had been carried down from her bedchamber that night when Hartwell Barclay had met his death and they had fled Highcross. When she opened the lid, the aromatic fragrance of lavender and roses, and the spicy scent of potpourri drifted to her. It held most of her worldly goods-at least, her most prized possessions. It had traveled far with her since that night, she thought, staring down at the neatly packed clothes, boxes, and bundles that Tristram and Dulcie had added to it for safekeeping. Her thoughts went to Romney Lee again, for he had always come close when she'd opened it, staring down at the contents, his hands gently touching the items, occasionally holding one of the vials of perfume to his nose, or carefully handling a scented handkerchief or stocking, a devilish glint in his eye, as if daring her to scold him.

Lily's pleased expression faded when she saw the puppet. It was a horrible creature, she decided, suddenly finding the wooden face disturbing with its sightless blue and brown painted eyes staring up at her.

"I see ye found the wicked creature," Farley said with a grin. "I'll take real good care of him. He might just bring us good fortune, or at least a berry tart fer lunch," he declared, his rough hands taking hold of the dangling puppet and tucking it beneath his arm with the ribbons and sachets he'd unearthed from the cart.

"I hope ye be good enough fer a couple of them tarts, Farley. I'm awful hungry. I don't know what I'm goin' to do if I don't get something to eat soon," Tillie said. "Feel like a troop of soldiers be stompin' around inside me."

"Aye, we'll get ye them tarts. Better get hoppin', Fairfax, 'cause Master Tristram and me'll get back before ye can say Ol' King Harry, who next will he marry! Come on, lad, we're off!" Farley said, beckoning to Tristram, who was still practicing his art.

Lily watched until they disappeared into the trees, Tristram waving wildly before doing a handspring, and Lily found herself smiling. Turning away, she saw that Tillie had returned to her mending, another pair of hose, much longer ones these, waiting in a rumpled pile next to her.

"Goin' to take more thread than I've got to mend Fairfax's hose," she said with a halfhearted laugh, her stomach growling so loudly that Dulcie and Raphael stopped their frolicking to stand and listen. Lily tried to keep from laughing when Raphael crept up closer, then with a whine turned tail and shot behind the cart.

Fairfax couldn't contain his laughter. "Couldn't figure it out fer a second, how there could be thunder with blue sky above. Reckon Farley oughta get a cartload of them tarts," he chuckled, carefully winding a length of string around his big fist, his chest shaking with suppressed laughter.

"Why don't you look for some sweet berries, Dulcie? We can eat them while we wait," Lily suggested, much to Tillie's relief.

"Reckon I'll catch that trout now," Fairfax said, wandering off toward the stream that ran beside the meadow.

"Here's a basket you can put the berries in."

"You want to help me, Lily?" Dulcie invited, taking the basket over her arm.