Tree singer, p.12
Tree Singer, page 12
“Welcome,” he said, in a rather high voice. His mustache was waxed into two round curls and his beard had been combed into a sharp triangle.
Mayten clenched her teeth against the giggle bubbling in her throat. Judging by the sparkle in Cather’s eyes, her friend was suffering the same trouble.
“I’m Sir Thornton Underbrush, the king’s secretary.”
Mayten clenched her jaw even harder.
“The king has asked me to greet you and make you comfortable before dinner. Madam Singer?” The man glanced from Mayten to Cather.
“Yes,” Mayten said.
“Is this your dog?” He stared at Anatolian, still wet from his recent swim and smelling rather musky.
“Yes, sir. His name is Anatolian.”
The man snapped his fingers. The young boy with curly dark hair dropped the toy he’d just picked up into the wagon and ran up to them, grinning. “Take the dog and wash it good, Edward. When the animal is dry you may take it to the singer’s room.”
Anatolian looked at her with worried eyes, but Mayten couldn’t see a way to get around the secretary’s request. She patted Anatolian’s back and signaled for him to go.
“Thank you, Sir Underbrush,” Tray said. Mayten wondered at his ability to say the name without laughing.
In her clan, names indicated a family’s calling. What kind of calling could Underbrush belong to? The pulling of weeds?
“I’m Tray Traveler. This is Cather Healer.”
Sir Underbrush bowed low again, his belly lapping over his belt and straining his shirt buttons. She got the feeling it had been a while since he’d worn these clothes.
Was the king trying to show off for his visitors or was Sir Underbrush? This whole welcome seemed oddly confusing. She’d expected castle life to be more organized.
They followed Sir Underbrush through the entrance into the castle and found they were standing in a high-ceilinged room. Beyond the room stretched a long, narrow hallway with arched, open doorways on either side. She could just make out a flight of stairs at the far end of the hall.
Light from the second-story windows cast long shadows down the hall. The secretary led the way, his gait more waddle than walk. His pants strained at the seams as he moved.
The poor guy must be miserable.
Sir Underbrush stopped in front of the first open archway to the right and gestured for them to enter. Mayten’s mouth fell open. She had expected something elegant and kingly. Instead, they entered a large sitting room with overstuffed leather couches and chairs in a variety of patterns. A large bookcase filled one part of the room, shelves stuffed full of books that looked like they had actually been read. Books were lying open on tables and those in the bookcase lay at odd angles in no discernible arrangement.
She’d never seen so many books in one place!
A variety of overlapping rugs of various sizes and a cacophony of colors made the room feel warm, cozy, and slightly confused as if it were a room well lived in. The king must be more interested in comfort than order.
“I’ll have the servants bring you something from the kitchen while your rooms are being prepared,” Sir Underbrush said. He gave a brief bow . . . and something ripped
Mayten covered her mouth, biting a knuckle to keep from laughing.
Sir Underbrush flushed, backed out of the room . . . and bumped into a great bear of a man with a bushy red beard and a mass of black hair. The newcomer’s skin reminded her of teakwood. He had a broad, flat nose and full lips, not unlike the lumbermen who helped her mother manage the forest.
The man took one look at Sir Underbrush and bellowed a laugh, slapping him on the shoulder so hard that the secretary took a step forward.
“Good heavens, Thornton,” the bearded man boomed. “What on earth are you wearing?”
“You told me to greet the guests, sir. I just thought . . .”
“I told you to greet them, not scare them to death. Go and change at once, you look ridiculous.” He moved to one side and gave the secretary a push out the doorway.
Sir Underbrush gave them an embarrassed look and dashed away, both hands covering his backside.
“Welcome, welcome!” sang the bearded man, a man who seemed to fill the room. Who was this giant that he would treat the king’s secretary with such odd familiarity?
“I’m sorry if Thornton scared you,” the man continued. “His da served my grandfather, you see, who immigrated from Sapia as a child, and was much more, shall we say—traditional—than I and sometimes he gets confused. I’m Thomas Redmond or King Redmond if you prefer.”
He reached for her hand as he spoke. Mayten thought her hand might be crushed, but the king kept his grip gentle. He bowed slightly, smiling right at her, his dark eyes twinkling. There was a space between his two front teeth that Mayten found oddly appealing.
“You’re the king?” Shocked, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. This man’s casual bearing and appearance—he couldn’t be the king. Could he?
She had to admit her expectations were based on stories she’d heard as a child or in books. In those stories, kings sat on big thrones wearing crowns and richly embroidered robes and holding scepters.
This man looked like a neighbor who’d just stopped by to help with the chores. He even smelled of pipe tobacco, just like her father.
Tray was gaping like a fish and his eyes were as round as tree knots. Cather looked like someone had just done something embarrassing, and she didn’t know whether to say something or keep quiet.
Mayten cleared her throat. “You’ll have to excuse us, Your Majesty. We . . . this is Tray Traveler, Cather Healer, and I’m Mayten Singer.”
“The singer! Excellent!”
Mayten heard giggles in the shadows beyond the door arch. The king’s face grew dark. “Who’s listening at my door?”
He crossed to the door in three giant steps. Cather took Mayten’s hand as the king disappeared through the arch with a roar. Horrible shrieks echoed in the hall, sending chills down to Mayten’s spine.
Were they standing in the castle of a crazy man?
Her body tensed but before she could move, the king came back, carrying a little girl—one in a yellow dress, one in green—under each arm with a smaller boy perched on his shoulders. Another boy clung to his leg, making him walk with a strange swinging gate. All four were laughing wildly.
The king stopped in front of them, swinging the two girls to the floor. “These are my lovely daughters, Thomasina Three and Thomasina Four, though don’t ask me which is which.”
The girls—with identical jet-black hair, long noses dusted with freckles, and dirty bare feet—gave little curtsies and beamed up at Mayten.
“You can call me Lemmy,” said the one in the yellow dress.
“You can call me Limey,” said the one in green.
“And this,” said the king, peeling the boy off his leg and setting him on the floor, “is Thomas the Third.”
The little boy giggled. “Father, I’m the second, not the third.” He looked shyly up. “I’m called Blue.”
Blue looked like his father, but with improbable rust-red hair and freckles. A completely different color of red than Hunter’s had been. He looked to be Wollemi’s age.
“Oh, so sorry. Of course, Thomas the Second.” The king plucked the boy—smallest of all—off his neck and placed him on the floor next to his brother. “And what number Thomas are you?”
The little one had his black hair tied back in a braid. He glanced at them through long, thick lashes and held up three fingers while shoving two of his other hand into his mouth.
“Thomas the Third it is,” the king said, placing a hand the size of a dinner plate on the small boy’s head. “He is also known around the castle as Raz.”
He gestured at the children. “They were excited to meet the fabled singer. Children, this is the person we’ve all been waiting for—Mayten Singer!”
Mayten’s face heated. The king must have her confused with her mother. Mayten hadn’t even completed her training. She wasn’t anyone special.
Besides, didn’t the castle have singers of its own?
Before she could voice the question, the children shouted and Mayten was almost knocked off her feet by four sets of arms being thrown around her waist and legs. She looked at her friends, wondering what on earth these children thought she could do.
Chapter Twenty
“All right, all right.” The king peeled the children off Mayten. “You’ll have plenty of time to talk to her at dinner. Let’s let the poor girl unpack at least.”
“Father, I—” A tall boy walked into the room. Dressed in brilliant white trousers, knee-high boots, and a billowing blue shirt left open at the collar, Mayten almost didn’t recognize the rider from the pond.
“Oh, you’re here.” He’d cleaned up, his wild hair slicked back and held in a tie at the nape of his neck. He looked stiff and uncomfortable.
“Don’t you look fine, Thomas!” boomed the king. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen you look quite so . . . Of course, it’s not often we get visited by two beautiful women on the same day.”
This surly boy must be Thomas the First.
The boy frowned, his face coloring slightly.
“You’ve met my oldest son?” the king asked, confirming her suspicion.
Tray gave a small bow, taking a step closer to Cather who managed a curtsy. Mayten tried to follow her lead, but one leg wobbled and she shifted into a bow. Where had Cather learned such a skill? No one curtsied in their village, not even to the clan leader.
Besides, this young man wasn’t worth the effort of trying.
Such a strange king, Mayten thought, though she felt much kindlier toward the king than she did toward his oldest son.
Thomas the First—was he a prince, then?—bowed deeply. “Singer, Healer, Traveler,” he said in a formal voice. “Welcome.”
Mayten could feel a snarl begin to curl her lip. With effort, she made her face relax. Gracious host, my foot. This boy was no prince, not in her mind. Princes did not leer at people the way he’d leered at them back at the pond.
“Thomas, show our guests to their rooms if you would.” The king smiled at them and offered a small bow. “I’ve had clean clothes laid out for you and arranged for small snacks. The benefit of having seven children is that there are always spare clothes around, though food often mysteriously disappears.”
Seven children. Something else to remind her of home. Had the king and queen lost any of their children to the great fever like her family had?
The prince leaned in and whispered to his father.
“Eight! Of course!” The king grinned. “I forgot the most recent addition to our family. Another girl.” He sighed, though the sound was happy. “This one took a lot from my wife, though. Could you look in on her, Healer? After you’ve changed and refreshed yourself, of course. She’s having trouble regaining her strength. Thomas will show you the way.”
“I’d be happy to, King Redmond.” Cather’s cheeks reddened.
“I’ll go check on her now then. I’ll see you shortly.” The king strode from the room, whistling a tune as he left.
His presence had taken up so much of the room Mayten felt his leaving like a physical loss. The room grew quiet, the three of them staring at the prince who seemed to deflate.
“Come on, I’ll show you to your rooms.” He looked resigned, though not eager. “Can I get your bags?”
“We’re carrying everything we brought,” Tray said.
The prince’s expression changed slightly, though Mayten couldn’t decide if he was impressed or disgusted. “Follow me then.”
He led the way, falling into step with Tray. They were partway down the hall when the prince began peppering Tray with questions—about questing.
Mayten and Cather glanced through the arched doorways as they walked. One room looked like a large nursery with several cribs and hand-carved toys littering the floor. Several doors were closed and Mayten found herself wondering what was in those rooms.
One open archway led to a dining room dominated by a long wooden table. From the loud banging and muffled shouting Mayten heard, she guessed there was a kitchen beyond the dining room and pictured people scurrying to prepare food for unexpected guests.
Her stomach grumbled. It had been some time since they’d eaten a proper meal.
While the downstairs had stone floors and smelled of food preparation, the stairs to the second floor were covered in a thick red carpet, worn but still beautiful. This fit Mayten’s image of what a palace should look like.
The carpet led them to the second floor, softening their footsteps and filling the air with comfort and welcome. Large open windows flooded the rooms with light and fresh air. Mayten loved the feel of the carpet under her boots. Her house had a few rugs over the wooden floor but to have the entire floor covered in carpet felt like something of a dream. She longed to take off her boots and dig her toes into the soft carpet.
A sitting area topped the stairs. Small couches huddled beneath windows that looked out to sea. Books were scattered here and there, as if waiting for the next person to curl up and begin reading.
Mayten thought she’d love to sit by a window and read. It would be almost as nice as sitting on her tree branch with a good book.
Two hallways led away from the sitting room toward the rear of the castle. She’d misjudged the size of the building. It stretched much further back than it appeared, reminding her of the wings behind her own house. The wings of the homestead were visible from the front, fanning from the main building at an angle. These ‘wings’ stretched directly behind the castle.
Prince Thomas led them down the hall on the left.
“Do you think the family lives there?” Cather whispered, pointing to the hall to the right.
“Perhaps,” Mayten said. “Or maybe they have rooms on the main floor. These wings could be for guests. Maybe we’ll get a chance to explore.”
Thomas gestured to the first door on his right. “Traveler, this is your room.” He gestured to the first two rooms on the left. “Singer and Healer, your rooms are here. They have an adjoining door. I’ll let you decide who sleeps where. Healer, would you join me by the stairs as soon as you’ve changed? I’ll take you to my mother.”
Cather nodded, looking more shy than normal. Had she become smitten with this strange prince? Mayten glanced at Tray, who didn’t look happy.
“I’ll see the rest of you at dinner. You’ll hear a bell to call you.” He turned and hurried away without giving Mayten a second look.
Good, I might have had to punch him.
“Three rooms,” Cather said, “all to ourselves.”
The thought of not sharing a room with her cranky sister made Mayten smile.
Cather pointed down the hall. Doors lined the hall on both sides. “I wonder if anyone else is staying here?”
Tray opened his door and the girls followed him in. The small room had a bed under the window which Tray quickly jumped on, boots and all. It was not like Mayten’s bed at home, framed in rich cherry wood, but a slender mattress stuffed with cotton over a rope woven frame. After sleeping on the ground, even a thin mattress would feel like heaven. There was a tray of bread and cheese next to his bed and he began cramming large pieces of both into his mouth.
Mayten rolled her eyes. “We are in a castle, Tray. You could try not to eat like a pig.”
He shrugged and kept eating.
“I can’t tell you how happy I am to be sleeping in a real bed tonight,” he said around his food. He stretched like a cat on the bed. The room smelled like lemons with a touch of briny air from the open window. The lowering sun bathed the room in a warm glow.
Mayten leaned out the open window, smiling at the gardens below. A quick look toward the pond told her what she wanted to know. “You can’t see the pond from here. That row of trees shelters it.”
A soft snore drew her attention. Tray was already asleep. Evidently, having to act like a responsible adult had been exhausting for him.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Cather said. “Why don’t we take a look at our rooms? I have to change and meet the prince.”
She grabbed Mayten by the hand and pulled her into the hall, gently closing Tray’s door behind them.
The next room was larger than Tray’s and connected to the room beyond through an open door. Mayten could see enough of the other room to tell the bed was similar to the bed in this room. Both beds were easily twice the size of Tray’s.
“Look at this dress!” Cather lifted a flowing pink gown from the bed. “It might be a bit too long but it’s beautiful!”
Mayten nodded. “It’s perfect for you. The color goes great with your eyes.”
She wandered the room, admiring the paintings of flowers set above a vase filled with fresh flowers that mimicked the painting’s lilies. She resisted the urge to pick up the Caspian figurines on the low table, deciding the fancy boxes sitting next to the figurines weren’t as fragile. She opened the lid of one box, delighted to hear music start playing.
The room had a fireplace and a bathtub like the one her family had bought. The bathtub crouched on a platform in front of a second window and was easily twice the size of the bath her family owned.
A full-length mirror stood next to the dressing table. The mirror’s wood frame swiveled when she touched it, swinging easily toward her . . .
“Wonder what I looked like before our little bath,” she snorted, feeling heat creep into her face.
“Why don’t you check the other room?” Cather asked. “There’s probably another dress in there.”
The other room had no bath and no fireplace, only a large bed with a wide window that faced the tall thin trees they had seen earlier that offered privacy to the castle. A chair with a table holding a small stack of books and an oil lamp sat by the window.
“I’ll take this room,” Mayten said. She reached for a book but a shriek from Cather pulled her around.
“Another beautiful dress!” Cather held up an emerald green dress that shimmered in the late afternoon sun. Mayten had to admit the dress was beautiful, though secretly she’d hoped to find pants she could wear.
