The Mistmantle Chronicles by M. I. McAllister

Author:M. I. McAllister
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook
Publisher: Miramax Books
Published: 2005-06-14T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

RCHIN WARMED HIMSELF BY THE FIRE in Padra’s chambers.

“We need to catch the king alone,” said Padra, thinking aloud, “preferably at a time when Husk hasn’t filled him up with wine so he can’t think straight.”

Urchin preferred his own room, but he had come in here to light the fire which was now flaring brightly in the hearth. Padra’s room was plain and soldierly and smelt of smoked fish, and there was always a damp cloak steaming on a clotheshorse, but Urchin enjoyed his company. They were toasting acorn bread (for Urchin) and fish (for Padra) on long forks beside the fire. Padra gazed into the flames as he turned the toasting fork. They always talked softly these days, as Padra was sure Husk had spies everywhere. The crackling and spitting of the fire was a useful way of covering speech.

“I think that’s cooked, sir,” said Urchin.

“Mm,” said Padra, and drew the fork from the fire. “Pleasantly charred. You really should try a bit, Urchin.”

“No thank you, sir.”

“How can anyone not like fish?” Padra blew softly on the silver and gold scales, to cool them. “If it comes to rationing, you’ll be glad to eat anything. At least the otters won’t be hungry. There’s always plenty of fish. But don’t worry, Urchin, it won’t come to rationing.”

“Good,” said Urchin, and nibbled at the acorn bread.

“Apart from anything else, where would we get food for…” He left the question unfinished and licked his paws, but Urchin knew he meant the nursery. “We need to get the king to make a ruling against it, one that Husk can’t change. Look out for an opportunity, Urchin.”

They were still eating and licking their paws when somebody knocked at the door.

“Mole,” said Padra. “You can always tell from the sound. Comes a long way down the door, moles being short little chaps.”

Urchin answered it. “Hello, Lugg!” he said.

Lugg marched into the chamber and saluted. “Littl’un brought for a culling, sir. Baby girl otter, sir. Funny-shaped tail. Captain Husk nowhere about, sir.”

“Is that so?” said Padra energetically, and buckled on his sword. “Well, there’s no need to trouble Captain Husk about this, is there? Where is she? I’ll take care of her, and go down for a swim afterward. Don’t stay up for me, Urchin.”

Urchin was about to ask if Padra had any orders for him, but Padra was already out the door. It was a good thing the baby had been brought when Husk wasn’t there…

When Husk wasn’t there.

He ran to the door. “Lugg!” he called.

“That’s me,” said the mole.

“Where’s Captain Husk?”

“Dunno.”

“When will he be back?”

“Dunno that, neither.”

“Captain Granite?”

“Armory. Drunk.”

“Is anyone with the king?”

“Dunno. Lady A sometimes sits with him.”

Padra should be the one to do this, but he wasn’t there. Urchin knew he should be allowed to see the king—any animal should. He just didn’t want to risk getting everything wrong. He considered for a moment, rubbing one hind paw against the other, and said, “I’m going to see the king.”

“Good for you,” said Lugg.

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