The Heir of Mistmantle (7 page)

The night brought a brief, thin drizzle of rain. Three animals—a mole, a squirrel, and a young hedgehog—straggling back from the search, grumbled and huddled against the tower walls. Hobb the mole was a short, sturdily built, and very smooth animal—his head looked polished. He had a habit of folding his arms and rocking back and forth on his hind paws, and a tendency to waddle. (He claimed that this was because of stiffness in his joints, but he was heavy, for a mole.) Yarrow the squirrel had a strong, square jaw, angular shoulders, shaggy fur, and a way of jerking his head in indignation. His normal tone of voice suggested that he was used to complaining a lot.

The third animal, Quill the hedgehog, was younger than the other two. He was still young enough for his mother to insist on smartening his spines in the morning, so that he had to roll in leaves as soon as he was out of her sight so as not to be embarrassingly tidy. He was so much in the company of Hobb and Yarrow that he copied their mannerisms without realizing it.

“May as well go home and get a few hours’sleep,” muttered Hobb, pulling his coat about him and scowling up at the rain. “There’ll not be many of us in a fit state to bring in the harvest after this. There’s a lot of animals not at all well, and that means more work for the rest of us. And if that wasn’t bad enough, all the athletic ones and the bright sparks will be off looking for the princess.”

“Let’s hope they find her tonight,” said Yarrow, in a dismal voice as if he didn’t expect her to be found at all. “It’s bad enough, this happening, without it happening at harvest. Hazelnuts won’t gather themselves, you know.”

“My dad,” said Quill, drawing himself up, “my dad says it’s a pity the queen didn’t take better care of the princess.”

“Nobody should speak ill of the queen….” began Hobb.

“Sorry,” whispered Quill, but he felt, rather than heard, Hobb glaring at him through the darkness.

“
As I was saying
,” said Hobb firmly, “nobody likes to speak ill of the queen, but the fact is, she doesn’t come from here. That place she comes from, I don’t think they know how to do things right. They don’t know how to look after their young. Nice enough squirrel, I’ll give her that, but she doesn’t know how to look after her baby. If we’d had one of our own, a proper Mistmantle queen, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Wouldn’t have happened, exactly,” agreed Yarrow with a sniff and a jerk. “I suppose the king knew what he was doing when he chose her, but…”

“But did he?” argued Hobb, leaning against the wall with his arms folded. “I’m sure falling tail over ear tips in love is very nice, but we’re talking kings and queens, here. Of course, he’s not proper royalty, is he, he was just a captain.”

“He would have known where he was if he’d married a sensible Mistmantle lass,” said Yarrow. “We thought he might have taken to our Thrippia, her having such clever ways, but nothing came of it. And there’s my sister’s lass, our Gleaner. Too young for him, I know, but he could have waited for her to grow up. She’s very grown-up for her age already.”

“Here comes Docken of the Circle,” said Quill. He elbowed the others and straightened up as he called out to the bedraggled hedgehog marching past. “Good evening, Master Docken. Any news of the baby?”

“There’d be lights on all over the tower if she were home, Heart protect her,” called Docken wearily. “Away you go, home to your beds and get a good night’s sleep, for it’ll be all paws to work tomorrow.”

Hobb scowled in the darkness. “Don’t hurry,” he whispered. “He thinks he can order us all about, now he’s in the Circle.”

“And I wouldn’t stand so near that window,” said Docken. “You’re right under the queen’s window there, and…”

“Don’t move,” muttered Hobb to the others, and raised his voice to Docken. “Why shouldn’t we stand under the queen’s window? Got as much right as anyone.”

“We were on this island long before she was,” said Yarrow, and wriggled indignantly. “Who does she think she is? Aren’t we good enough to stand under her window?”

“My dad says…” began Quill, but they never found out what his dad said because at that moment the window opened and Moth and the maids tipped out the queen’s bathwater. Spluttering and cursing they glared up at the window, just in time for the next soaking.

“Tried to warn you,” said Docken. “Lavender. You’ll smell beautiful.”

“Bathwater!”
growled Yarrow, rubbing his wet fur with his even wetter cloak and making it worse. “What’s she want
baths
for? Can’t she wash her face in a stream like anyone else?” And they hurried crossly home, though Quill did take the long way around to roll in a weedy rock pool. He couldn’t go around smelling of lavender.

It seemed longer than a single night before a pale gold dawn spread across the sky. Catkin was still missing. Search parties went on hunting as the sun rose higher. The brief rain had soon stopped, and animals talked about whether they had ever had such a hot autumn as they worked on in the sun, gathering rushes, cones, nuts, and berries, sweating into their fur and gulping down water. The animals searching for Catkin labored and struggled under the hot sun. The land grew dry. Streams ran slowly.

The harvesting was harder, too, because there were fewer animals to do it. More and more were becoming too ill to leave their burrows. Healers were sent for. Urchin, hunting in hollow trees for Catkin and Linty, remembered the riding stars and did not like to wonder too much about what they meant this time.

Juniper opened his eyes with words of prophecy clear and true in his mind. When he thought of what they might mean, he covered his face with his paws in fear.

Brother Fir met with squirrels and hedgehogs who were keen to discuss the past, and others who would much rather not. Many were more concerned about their neighbors falling ill—and please, Brother Fir, can we collect some feverfew from the tower? But as Fir patiently listened and talked and listened again, they began to talk of the terrible time when Lord Husk controlled the island, and any animals born weak or even a little deformed had been put to death. Some could hardly bear to talk about it, and some, when they had started, could not stop talking.

Old friends of Linty told how she had kept to herself for years. She never talked about the past. Poor Linty, she could hardly bring herself to speak of what happened to her.

CHAPTER FIVE

OVER THE DOOR, COVER THE DOOR.
Linty gritted her teeth with effort as she heaved an old tree root back into place to hide the entrance over her head. Using the blanket as a sling, she had wound the baby to her, keeping her safe from the thorns as she wove her way through the Tangletwigs. She had run through deep streams, lifting the baby high out of the water, and rolled them both in white wild garlic to lose their scent. More ramsons grew around this tree. Nobody would scent them down. No busybody digging mole would find them.

The tower was no place for a baby. Long ago, with hard work and ingenuity, she had made this hiding place, and another, nearer to the shore, furnished with all she would need to keep a baby hidden. They were so cleverly concealed underground, with deeply hidden overgrown entrances and confused scent trails, that they were impossible to find. She would have lost track of them herself if she hadn’t returned every spring and autumn to clean them and bring in fresh food and bedding. She never knew when she might need them.

There were two ways out of this deep refuge. One led into undergrowth and the other to a cave near the shore, both through concealed tunnels. She could slip out to fetch provisions if she had to, though it would be risky. She had left places above the entrance where rain could run down through the moss, so there was no need to fetch fresh water. In the meantime, in case it didn’t rain, she’d brought spring water. She’d thought of everything.

She couldn’t remember clearly what had happened at the tower. She had been looking after this baby.
Catkin.
That was the baby’s name. She had been rocking the baby in her lap, yes, she could remember that. The warm, bath-smelling baby had cuddled against her and sucked a corner of a blanket—and unspeakable terror had struck hard into Linty’s heart, shaking her from her ear tips to her claws. That wave of horror had left her so sick and shaking with fear that she had thought she would pass out.

Tower! Quick, get her out!

She would keep this baby safe. No animal on Mistmantle would outwit her.

Wide-awake and bright-eyed, Catkin was sitting up and looking at her.

“You’ll be safe with me,” Linty said, and smiled with love as Catkin stretched out both front paws to her. She picked her up, cradling the soft baby fur against her cheek. “You’ll be safe with Linty, little…” what was the baby’s name? Daisy? No, this one was Catkin.

“You’ll be safe with me, little Catkin,” she said. “They can search all autumn and winter. They won’t find you.”

In the Throne Room, the windows had been thrown open because of the unseasonable heat. Many of the Circle were out searching for Catkin, harvesting, or caring for the sick, but as many as possible had been summoned, including Arran. Urchin, Needle, and Juniper were there, to hear what Brother Fir had to say. There was no brightness in his eyes today.

“I should have remembered,” said Fir sadly, “but so many babies were killed when Captain Husk was in power. Linty had a daughter, born small and before her time. She might have lived. But Captain Husk swooped, had the baby brought to the tower, and killed her himself. Nothing could be done to save her. Later, when Linty’s little boy was also born early and very small, we tried to save him.”

“There were so many,” said Arran, frowning as she tried to remember. “But I remember dashing to collect a baby and take it to the secret nursery and finding I was too late. I couldn’t forgive myself for not getting there in time.”

“Think of all the babies you did save, Arran,” said Fir. “Linty has never been the same since—of course she isn’t, how could she be? But none of us had realized how badly damaged she was. I fear her mind must have been breaking. The night of the Naming Ceremony she found herself in the tower with a baby squirrel.”