dragon archives 04 - dance with a dragon (16 page)

“We need a ruse,” Anna said, stating the obvious, but it was Kathleen who came up with a plan.

“Your Majesty and I are of similar size,” she told the queen, her eyes on the ground as a blush rose in her cheeks. “I can wear one of your gowns and will go by myself into the gardens.” Kathleen glanced up to meet Matilda’s gaze. “The guards will follow me instead,” Kathleen continued. “You can slip out the side door. Once the guards realize it is me, they will leave me alone, and I will meet you on the other bank.”

“But your hair is much duller than mine,” Matilda said.

Kathleen dropped her gaze. “I will cover my head with a cloak,” she whispered. “The guards will think I – you – are seeking some privacy and will keep their distance.”

“And when they realize their mistake, they will come looking for me,” the queen said. “What will you tell them?”

There was a moment of silence. “I have an idea,” Blanche said, “but you will not like it, Your Majesty.”

“Continue,” she said.

“Kathleen can admit it was a ruse to keep people away from your chambers so you could, er, indulge in a little, er, rendezvous. The guards will stay away from your chambers, and Kathleen will be free to leave.”

“Ah! And if the king hears of this little deception?”

“Then my lady will tell him the truth – that it was a ruse to go into the city. By then our adventure will be over.”

“I see.” The queen turned around, her fingers on her chin as she considered. “Very well. It seems that is the way to proceed. Kathleen, let us find you a gown.”

All was in readiness twenty minutes later. Kathleen wore a gown of crimson and blue, embroidered in gold with the royal arms. An indigo cloak covered her head, and she pulled the hood close around her face. Blanche went out first to engage the guards’ attention as Kathleen slipped out of the chambers. It only took a moment before the guards saw the figure flitting down the passage, and turned to follow at a discreet distance. The queen, dressed in her new, simple gown, her head covered with a cloak, quickly hurried from the room, Blanche and Elizabeth close behind, and turning in the opposite direction, headed to a side door that opened away from the bustling courtyard. Anna, who had chosen to stay and wait for Kathleen, saw them leave, then sat down to wait for Kathleen’s return.

Half an hour had passed before she heard footsteps outside the chambers, and the door opened to reveal Kathleen, with Frank, one of the guards, close on her heel. Anna jumped to her feet.

“Out,” she hissed to the guard. She glanced back at the queen’s chambers. “If the queen hears you here …” She left the sentence hanging as she looked pointedly at the man. He glanced in the direction of the chamber, then back at Anna.

“My orders come from the king,” he said.

Anna sighed. She dug her hand into the purse at her side, and withdrew a silver coin. “Would it really do any harm to allow the queen some privacy for a few hours?” she asked. Frank looked at the coin, then back at Anna with a shrug. With a silent growl, she pulled out another coin as he watched.

“I suppose not,” he said with a smirk, which widened when Anna scowled. “Two coins, two hours,” he said.

“Fine,” Anna ground out, pulling out one more coin and tossing them at the guard. “Three.” He caught them easily and with a mocking bow, turned and left the room. She watched him go, then turned back to Kathleen.

“What happened?”

“Tobias believed me, but Frank followed me back. I don’t know why.”

Anna sighed. “He must have smelled a rat. There’s nothing more we can do. Change your gown and let’s begone.”

They opened the door a few minutes later and walked into the passage. Both guards were back in place outside the chamber. Anna smiled and nodded at Tobias as Frank watched. He gave her a mocking salute as she walked past, three fingers raised in the air. She ground her teeth in annoyance, but kept her silence. They finally reached the courtyard and headed towards the river where the ferrymen plied the waters. A ferry was approaching the small landing as they arrived, and they stepped onboard, sitting down on the cushions that covered the seats with sighs of relief.

Anna had arranged to meet the queen, Elizabeth, and Blanche at a small tavern on the opposite bank of the river. Its main custom was the ferry passengers, unlike the tavern just a dozen yards away where all manner of unsavory persons could be seen entering and leaving. She found the ladies easily. Rupert stood at the queen’s side, thoroughly bored, and although the atmosphere was clean and comfortable, Anna could see that Matilda was ill at ease.

“Let’s be on our way,” she said.

Rupert led the way out of the tavern and along the hard-packed street. It was not far from there to the main city marketplace, and he led them deftly along the winding streets that led to the large square. There were many markets in the city, but this was the largest, where all manner of goods were sold from places both near and far. Before they had even reached the market, Anna’s senses were assailed by evocative sights and smells – the aroma of exotic spices from far-away lands, fruits from the sun-drenched south, cloth and furs, and mixed in between, hawkers selling pies and roasted chestnuts. Memories flooded Anna’s mind – Max buying chestnuts for her, holding the burning seeds in his bare hand; Max walking beside her, pausing while she delightedly examined goods she had only ever heard about; Max whispering in her ear to stay close as they pushed through the crowds.

“Your Highness, whatever are you doing here?” The voice behind Anna made her spin around to look at Max bowing before the queen, stepping from her mind and into the street. A few people had paused and were looking at Max and Matilda in surprise.

“Shh,” the queen hissed. “You can call me, uh, Mistress, uh, Ann.”

Max glanced around, then turned back to the queen with a flourishing bow. “Darling Ann, you will always be queen of my heart, so I call you ‘Your Highness’.”

There were a few laughs as people turned back to what they were doing. Matilda glanced around anxiously, then seeing that people were no longer paying them any mind, looked at Max suspiciously.

“What are you doing here?”

“Why, the same as you,” he replied. “I’m browsing the market.”

“You didn’t follow me on the king’s command?”

“Follow you? No, Your, uh, Mistress Ann.” He held out an arm. “But why the disguise?”

“I wish to see a play,” she replied, wrapping her arm around his.

“Ah! And you do not wish people to know you are in the audience?”

“Correct!” The queen smiled at him. “You are a smart one.”

“I do my best,” he said. “May I escort you to this play?” Max glanced around, frowning slightly when he saw the prince leaning against a vendor’s table. His eyes rested on Anna for a moment before he turned back to the queen. “But I see you already have an escort.” 

“Yes, but I am happy to have another man in our company,” she said. “Rupert can be so dull.” The little party moved forward again, weaving through the narrow gaps between the market stalls. Rupert fell in beside Anna.

“I heard you know our pretty new arrival,” he said. “What can you tell me about him?”

Max was walking ahead of Anna, and she watched his back as he walked. She knew that there were ridges that ran along the length of his spine, where strong muscles would stretch and grow taut when his massive wings were spread wide; she knew he could breathe fire when he wished to, enough to burn an entire forest; she knew he was stronger than any human he had ever encountered, but did not use his strength unless provoked. She knew he was not actually human at all, but rather a large, monstrous beast.

“It is wiser to have Max Brant as a friend than an enemy,” she said, dragging her attention back to Rupert.

“Really?” Rupert laughed dryly. “Are you referring to his physical prowess? Because there is no-one at court who can best me with a sword, or in a hand-to-hand fight.”

“Do not let Master Brant’s handsome looks and easy manner fool you,” she said. “He is more dangerous than you can imagine.”

The prince stared at Max, his head cocked slightly as though sizing him up, then turned a speculative glance back at Anna. “How do you know this? Surely you haven’t actually seen him fight?”

“No,” Anna replied. “But Master Brant is my sister’s kinsman. I have heard stories.”

“I see.” Rupert looked at Max again. He was bending his head towards the queen with a laugh. Anna glanced around, and a table of gilded cages caught her eye. Within each cage were small, yellow birds, twittering furiously. She moved towards them with a smile.

“They are so pretty!” she said. “Where do you suppose they come from?”

Rupert shrugged. “I have no clue. I have no interest in birds, unless they can hunt. They might make a tasty morsel, though.”

“You don’t eat them!” Anna said. “You keep them. Like a dog.”

“Whatever for? A bird such as this has no use whatsoever.”

Max had moved to stand behind Anna while she admired the birds. “It will sing prettily for a lady,” he said. She shivered slightly as he moved closer, standing next to her. “Those are canaries, and they come from islands off the coast of Africa.”

Anna turned to Max with wide eyes. “Africa?” He nodded. She turned back to the birds and chirruped softly, smiling when the birds twittered back.

“Anna!” Anna turned at the sound of her name to see Kathleen standing at a table of intricate lace. “Come look.”

“I’m coming,” Anna said. She gave the canaries a last, lingering look, then moved away to look at the work that had caught her friend’s fancy.

“Which one should I buy?” Kathleen said.

“This one,” Anna said, pointing to a broad length with scalloped edges. She glanced back to where Max had been standing, but he had returned to the queen’s side. Anna turned back to watch Kathleen complete her purchase.

Chapter 22

Max stayed with the small group for the rest of the day. After an hour spent browsing the market, he led them to the cathedral steps, where mummers and performers displayed their talents for a few pennies. The queen laughed and clapped her hands when a tumbler rolled and twirled through the air, and gasped in fear when a man juggled knives, the sharp blades cutting dangerously through the air. Max stood next to Matilda, and he turned to look down at the queen with a smile when she gasped. Rupert stood next to Anna.

“I don’t see what the fuss is about,” he said, his eyes on the juggler. “With a little practice I could do that.”

Anna turned to look at him. “And if he was eating fire, would you say that too?”

“Of course.” Anna raised her eyebrows dubiously as Rupert continued. “If a man like that can swallow flames, it would be an easy matter for one such as myself.”

“Of course,” Anna said, turning her attention back to the performer. He had added a sixth knife to his act, and she glanced away when it looked as though a blade would slice right through his hand, not turning back until a sigh of relief ran through the crowd. 

It was not far from the cathedral to the open theater that had been erected near the banks of the river. It was close to the fish market, and as they walked along the river, Anna saw boats of all sizes pulled onto the marshy banks and secured with thick ropes wrapped around poles in the mud. The smell of rotting fish wafted over them, and Blanche was not the only who delicately covered her nose with the edge of her cloak.

Rows of benches had been placed before the stage, already filled with people who were crammed together to squeeze as many in as possible. There were some empty gaps on the bench closest to the back, but Matilda shook her head in distaste when Max pointed them out.

“I can only endure so much,” she said. “Find a seat for me and place it at the back, away from the crowds. And make sure you place it where I can see,” she added as Max strode off with a slight frown. He came back a few moments later rolling a barrel with his foot. From the smell, Anna guessed it had been used to store salted fish. As Max pulled the barrel upright, Matilda eyed it dubiously, then glanced around. It stood higher than the benches, and it was clear that if she wanted to remain unknown, her options were limited. Gingerly she took a seat on the weathered wooden lid, moving cautiously until she was well placed, then turned her attention to the stage. The actors were busy setting up their props, and all around them people were crowding in to see what was happening. A few moments later, Denton clapped his hands together, shouting over the noise to gain the crowd’s attention.

“The show is about to begin,” he shouted. “It is entitled
The Soldier and His Lady
.” He paused and glanced at the audience, waiting as the noise quieted down. “Imagine, if you will, a soldier saying a fond farewell to his love within the walled gardens of her home. She is heartbroken, of course, at the thought of her lover leaving her side. But he must do his duty for his royal sovereign, and will head to distant lands to fight the barbarians who would threaten us.” Denton turned away from the audience, and shrugging a coat over his tunic, turned to the woman who had just walked onto the stage weeping copiously.

The soldier, played by Denton, said his fond farewells, but his lover was distraught at the thought of his departure. Refusing to be left behind, she trailed after him, following the army as it marched from one battle to another. As the final battle neared, the soldier knew that the end was close. A passionate kiss was shared between the pair before he pulled away in an agony of emotion. “Farewell, my love,” he shouted, before plunging into a bloody and brutal battle against the wicked foe. Swords and spears plunged into him, but he remained on his feet, shouting his lover’s name. “Tilly! Tilly!” Anna glanced at the queen, amused to see her watching Denton fixedly. A final spear thrust went through the soldier’s heart, and he fell to the ground, the name still on his lips as he breathed his last. His heartbroken lover, watching from the sidelines of the battle, ran to his side, and grabbing the sword from his dead hands, wrapped her own around the hilt. Anna compressed her lips in an effort to contain a grin as the woman lifted the sword high above her head and plunged it into her heart. She fell down, still for a moment, as the crowd watched in silence, then lifting her head, declared to the audience, “I am dead,” before once more dropping her head to the ground, never to move again.