The Skull of the World by Kate Forsyth
‘Och, aye, she be here,’ he answered, twinkling at her. ‘She is often here checking on her birds, making sure I be caring for them properly.’
‘Sukey has her own pigeons?’
‘Och, aye. She be a right fancier herself. Lovely it is, to see a lassie taking such an interest in the bonny wee birds. It seems the puir lass be homesick, and she and her young brother send each other bits o’ news about their doings. It make sense, rightly, for ye can never trust the jongleurs or the peddlers no’ to take months in the taking o’ a message, or no’ to be forgetting it, while the pigeons’ll never let ye down.’
‘Aye, but ye must be able to read,’ Isabeau reminded him. ‘Most o’ the common folk canna read, remember, and so asking the peddlers to remember their news and pass it on is the only choice they have.’
‘Aye, that be true, unless o’ course ye can be speaking wi’ the birds, like ye and our blessed Rìgh.’
‘Aye, but then ye must rely on the pigeons remembering the message and ye must admit they be rather bird-brained.’
The pigeon-fancier laughed heartily. ‘Och, it’s a wit she is,’ he said. ‘And me never hearing that one before.’
Isabeau smiled. ‘Where she be?’
‘Her birds are kept right down the far end, on the right,’ he answered. ‘She loves her pretty doves, young Sukey.’
Isabeau made her way down the long, dim, dusty room, the cooing of the pigeons masking the drum of her boot-heels on the wooden floor. She came round the corner and found Sukey sitting on a barrel, reading a scrap of paper, her forehead creased in a frown.
‘Dinna tell me ye were sent to find a pint o’ pigeon’s milk?’ Isabeau asked cheerfully. ‘Surely ye’re no’ such a gowk!’
Sukey gave a little scream and leapt to her feet, the paper clutched to her heart. ‘Havers, ye scared me!’
‘Sorry,’ Isabeau said. She poked a finger in through the slats of one of the cages to stroke the soft plumage of the pigeon inside. Softly she cooed to it and the pigeon cooed back.
‘Can ye be speaking to pigeons then?’ Sukey asked a little uneasily. ‘I only thought it was owls ye could talk to.’
Isabeau cocked an eyebrow at her, a little surprised at the nursemaid’s unease. ‘I can speak both the common language o’ birds and most o’ the dialects. Dinna ye ken?’
Sukey shook her head. Folding up the paper and thrusting it into her pocket she pushed past Isabeau, saying, ‘Let’s get out o’ here, the dust and straw gives me an itchy nose.’
Isabeau followed her, saying, with some puzzlement, ‘Seems an odd hobby for ye to have then, if pigeons give ye hayfever.’
Sukey glanced back at her, smiling. ‘Hobby? I wouldna call it that. Nay, I was just up here to see if there was a message for Cuckoo from his parents, it being his birthday and all.’
‘Oh, was there?’ Isabeau said eagerly as they came out of the long rows of coops to the front part of the loft where the pigeon-fancier was grinding corn.
‘Aye,’ Sukey answered, just as the pigeon-fancier cried, ‘Has she given ye the happy news then?’
‘I havena had a chance yet, ye auld tattlemonger,’ Sukey laughed. She grinned up at Isabeau. ‘The news is only just in and yet I swear the smallest chimney-sweep will ken it all before the chancellor has even opened the message tube!’
‘News from Tìrsoilleir?’ Isabeau cried.
‘Aye. They’ve won through to Bride with barely a man lost, and the Fealde and the General Assembly have all fled or surrendered! The NicHilde is to be crowned this week,’ the pigeon-fancier cried. ‘Grand news indeed, aye?’
‘Och, the wee Cuckoo will be so happy,’ Isabeau said.
Sukey’s face clouded a little, but she nodded and smiled, leading the way down the rickety ladder to the stables.
‘Is something wrong?’ Isabeau asked, remembering the frown on Sukey’s face as she had read her note. ‘Have ye had bad news from home?’
‘Och, no’ at all,’ Sukey replied. ‘Although I shall be sad to lose our wee cuckoo. He be such a sweet laddiekin and such company for Donncan, who I swear grows naughtier every day.’
Isabeau told her about the basin of water above the door and Sukey laughed. ‘Indeed, Huntigowk Day just gives them an excuse for even more mischief,’ she said. ‘I put my arm into my dress this morn only to find the sleeve sewn up, and then found an upside-down eggshell in my eggcup …’
‘They repeated that trick for Elsie,’ Isabeau said with a smile. ‘And when we could no’ find ye, we were afraid ye’d been sent off hunting the cuckoo.’
‘Nay, hunting the pigeon instead,’ Sukey said cheerfully. ‘What were ye wanting me for?’
‘I just wanted to make sure all our plans for Cuckoo’s birthday lunch were in place,’ Isabeau answered as they walked through the kitchen garden. She bent and crushed some rosemary leaves in her fingers, inhaling the sharp odour. ‘He misses his parents so much, the poor wee laddie, that I really want to do something special for him. Meghan has given me the key to the secret door in the back wall so we can take them out into the forest for a picnic as we planned.’
‘They’ll love that! The hours they’ve spent trying to find that door. I swear they have pushed and pulled every knob and shield on that back wall a hundred times.’
‘If it was that easy to find, it wouldna be much use as a secret door, would it?’
‘Nay, I suppose no’. I must admit I’m curious myself, having heard the story about how the rebels came in that way and took the palace guard by surprise more times than I can count.’
‘I’ve asked Fergus the Cook to prepare us all Cuckoo’s favourite foods and I made his birthday cake myself for I swear I was afraid the Cook would cause it to fall flat with all his sour looks.’
‘Aye, he’s a crosspatch,’ Sukey giggled. ‘If he were no’ such a good cook, he’d have been thrown out years ago.’
‘Very well then, bring the bairns to the Tower around noon and we’ll take them out the back then. I’ve got another surprise for the laddiekin, this time from Iseult and Lachlan. They’ve asked me to pick out a pony for him.’
‘Och, he’ll love that!’ Sukey cried. ‘He was so jealous o’ Donncan when he was given his pony at Hogmanay.’
‘Aye, I ken. I’ll make sure both ponies are waiting for them just beyond the secret door. They’ll be able to go riding all through the forest, which ye must admit will be much more exciting than being taken round the home meadow on a leading rein.’
‘Will it be safe?’ Sukey asked anxiously. ‘I do no’ want them to have a fall and break a bone.’
‘Och, I’ll have a chat to the ponies before I let either lad on their backs,’ Isabeau answered. ‘Dinna ye fear! The ponies willna let the boys fall if I threaten them with no carrots or sugar for a week.’
Sukey gave Isabeau another odd little glance. ‘I keep forgetting ye can talk to horses and such,’ she said. ‘It must be wonderful to ken what they are saying all the time.’
‘Och, it’s pretty much like talking to people,’ Isabeau said with a grin as they climbed up the grand sweeping staircase towards the royal suite on the top floor. ‘They’re always talking about the weather or wondering what they’re going to have for dinner. It’s no’ that interesting really.’
As they crossed the landing, a passing squire gave the nursemaid a bold glance and smile. The colour came up in Sukey’s face but she dropped her eyes and ignored him.
Isabeau teased her, saying, ‘I think ye spend too much time cooped up with pigeons, Sukey. A bonny lass like ye should be out gathering may with some young man.’
‘When do I have time to go agathering may?’ she retorted, blushing hotly. ‘I canna take my eyes off those lads for an instant without them getting into some kind o’ trouble.’
‘Does no’ Elsie mind them for ye at times?’ Isabeau asked, remembering the days when she had been Bronwen’s nursemaid and had been on call all night and all day, lucky to find time to drink a cup of tea in
‘Sometimes. Though I worry about leaving the bairns with her, she has no idea how quick they can be.’
‘Well, Sukey, ye can always ask me to mind them for ye a while. Particularly in the evening, for I do naught but study and I may as well do it here as in my own room.’
Sukey shot her a look of gratitude and said diffidently, ‘Well then, happen ye wouldna mind staying wi’ them tonight? It just so happens that Gerard, that lad ye saw just now, has been teasing me to go walking wi’ him …’
‘Glad to,’ Isabeau said.
‘Och, thank ye, my lady!’ Sukey cried, her round cheeks pinker than ever. ‘Though happen ye should be walking out wi’ some young man yourself instead o’ spending all your time wi’ your head stuck in a book.’
Isabeau spread the ring-laden fingers of her right hand. ‘If I wasted my time flirting wi’ lads I would no’ have won three elemental rings in less than nine months,’ she answered. ‘See, that ruby is for the element o’ fire, the jade is for the element o’ earth, and that beautiful blue topaz is for the element o’ air. I’m now studying hard for my ring o’ water. I want to win them all!’
‘That be a bonny big ruby,’ Sukey said.
Isabeau gave her a penetrating glance. She was finding the nursemaid rather hard to understand today. Again she wondered if Sukey had received bad news from home and was trying to conceal her distress. ‘Aye, it belonged to Faodhagan the Red, my ancestor, ye ken. I’m proud indeed to be wearing it, for he was a great sorcerer’, she answered.
‘Aye, I ken,’ Sukey replied.
They walked on in silence, Isabeau wondering at the sudden constraint that had grown up between them. She thought perhaps it had been the reminder of her royal ancestry and wondered if it had sounded as though she had been boasting when she had only meant to explain. She had no chance to clarify further for the guards were swinging open the door to the playroom for them and the children were all tumbling out, shouting questions and telling Sukey how they had made a gowk of Isabeau too.
Exhausted by their day in the forest behind the palace, the children were easy to settle into bed that night. Isabeau read them all a story in the twins’ nursery, a lofty room with blue and gold panelled walls and a cloudy ceiling painted with the delicate shape of dancing nisses. A set of gilded doors led to Sukey’s bedroom on one side and the big, high-ceilinged room that Donncan shared with Neil on the other.
When the drowsy twins were securely tucked up with their favourite soft animal, Isabeau snuffed the candles with a snap of her fingers and ushered the two bigger boys into their own room. She sat with them for a while as they recounted their adventures of the day for the umpteenth time, then firmly tucked them up in their little beds.
‘Go to sleep now, laddies,’ she whispered. ‘Sweet dreams.’
‘Night, Aunty Beau,’ Donncan whispered. ‘We had a simply marvellous day.’
‘That’s good, dearling,’ Isabeau replied with a smile. ‘Sleep now.’
She shut the door, sighed, stretched, then forced herself to sit down at the table where all her books sat in a pile. Buba settled down on the back of her chair, blinking her golden eyes sleepily. Isabeau would have quite liked to have curled up in the big chair by the fire and had a snooze herself, but she was eager indeed to win her ring of water and had given herself to midsummer to do so. Once she had accomplished that, she would be able to sit for her sorceress ring and become the youngest witch to achieve the high magic since her own mother.
She poured herself a glass of wine and opened the book Gwilym the Ugly, her teacher in the powers of water, had given her before he rode off with the army to Tìrsoilleir. Gwilym had been appointed the court sorcerer and so accompanied Lachlan wherever he went, making it hard for Isabeau to continue her studies with him.
‘Life is believed to have originated in the oceans of the worlds,’ she read. ‘Water is essential to all life, being present in virtually every process that takes place within all plants and animals, whether in the form of blood, sap, saliva, or digestive juices.’
Isabeau yawned, drank another mouthful of her wine and read on. ‘Water is, paradoxically, made up of air and fire, which are its two greatest enemies. Without heat, water is transformed into ice, and with heat back into water and thence into steam and thence into nothing. The heat of fire can thus cause water to evaporate into nothingness, into air, but water can never be destroyed. It will always return.’
Isabeau nodded, knowing this to be true. She read the passage over again, committing it to memory, then read on as the candle at her elbow shrunk lower and lower, her wine untouched as she became absorbed in her subject.
It had been a long and tiring day, however, and Isabeau’s chair was very comfortable. She found it increasingly hard to concentrate on the words swimming about on the page and so at last she pushed away the textbook, letting her head sink back against the satin cushions.
She woke with a start. The fire had sunk low and the candles were guttering in their sconces. Feeling uneasy, Isabeau got to her feet and went towards the bedroom door. A slight sound within made her step quicken.
She swung open the door and felt shock like a hammer blow to her solar plexus. The light from the room behind her shone over the two little white beds within. Both were empty. The big window was wide open, the brocade curtains swaying. Isabeau ran to the window, hardly able to breathe with the terrible certainty that something was wrong indeed.
Soaring away from the window was a long sleigh pulled by a wedge of thirteen swans. Cracking a whip over the swans’ shapely necks was a tall woman with dark hair and a dark slash of a mouth in a white face. In the bright light of the two moons Isabeau could clearly see two small boys struggling to be free of the grasp of a thickset man in a tricorne hat. As she watched, frozen in horror, the man raised one huge fist and slammed it into the side of the head of one of the boys. He fell, senseless. The swans curved away over the dark garden.
Isabeau launched herself into the shape of an elf-owl and flew desperately after the swan-sleigh, Buba close behind her, hooting in alarm. Her small wings could not match the strength and speed of the swans, however, and she soon fell far behind.
Wishing she had had the forethought to shapechange into a golden eagle instead of an elf-owl, Isabeau turned back. She had never tried to change shape from one animal to another and was unwilling to try midair in case her magic proved insufficient for the task. Instead she flew back to the palace as quickly as she could, desperate to call the alarm and get the search for the kidnapped boys underway.
Isabeau saw the windows of the nursery suite were blazing with light and thought with a little quickening of her pulse that Sukey must have returned and realised what had happened. Sukey will have called the guards, thank Eà! she thought. She flew in the window and changed back to her natural shape, falling to her knees with a thump.
Sukey stood in the centre of the room, weeping, with four guards standing on either side of her, their spears at the ready.
‘There she is!’ she cried. ‘That be Isabeau the Red, who I left to care for the young prionnsachan. What have ye done wi’ them, Red? What have ye done wi’ the laddies?’
As always Isabeau was sick and dazed from the effort of working such powerful magic and for an instant she did not comprehend what Sukey was saying. She shook her head and tried to get to her feet, only to have her legs wobble alarmingly. Realising she was stark naked, she clutched one of the fallen bedcovers to her.
Only then did she realise the guards all had their spears pointed directly at her.
‘What are ye doing?’ Isabeau cried. ‘Do ye no’ realise the lads have been kidnapped …’
‘Aye, and who was it doing the kidnapping?’ Sukey cried. Isabeau stared at her, flabbergasted. ‘This is no’ the first time she has done this,’ the nursemaid said to the guards, wringing her hands in distress. ‘Remember how she stole away the Rìgh’s wee niece? Naught has ever been seen o’ her again, has there? Och, my p
‘But I never …’ Isabeau began indignantly. To her amazement, the guards threatened her with their spears. She drew herself up haughtily. ‘What is wrong with ye? I be the Banrìgh’s own sister. Donncan is my nephew …’
‘Do ye think we are fools?’ the head guard snapped. ‘We have all been on guard out in the corridor and none have been in or out except ye yourself. We all saw ye fly in through that window in the shape o’ an owl – who else could have spirited the boys away with none seeing or hearing?’
‘She did the same when she stole away the young banprionnsa, do ye remember?’ one soldier said. ‘We searched for her everywhere but her horse’s footprints just disappeared into thin air.’
‘It be uncanny the way she does it,’ another said with a shiver.
‘Aye, she must lay her plans deep,’ another said. ‘Tricking young Sukey Nurserymaid into leaving the bairns wi’ her …’
‘And all ken the Rìgh has long suspected her,’ another chimed in. ‘Why, ye were on guard wi’ me that day, Herman, when we heard the MacCuinn say he thought she was the spy that had been betraying him.’
‘Aye, that I was,’ Herman replied. ‘And he would no’ let her stay in the palace, remember, even though she be the Banrìgh’s own sister. She was put out in the auld tower.’
Isabeau had been turning from one to the other, hardly able to comprehend that they thought she was responsible for the boys’ disappearance. Who would have thought she would find herself so accused, all because of a few hasty words Lachlan had spoken in anger months ago? If only there was someone to speak up on her behalf! Meghan was riding through the countryside blessing the spring crops, and all of Lachlan and Iseult’s retinue were in Tìrsoilleir. There was no-one left in Lucescere but the old chancellor and a few soldiers and servants, none of whom knew Isabeau well except for Sukey.
At the thought of the nurserymaid, Isabeau’s eyes suddenly stung with tears. She had thought Sukey was her friend. She could not understand how the nurserymaid could have turned so suddenly and so violently against her. Isabeau looked at her and saw how calculatingly she listened to the guards and added fuel to the fire of their suspicions.