The Whisperer Page 5

  ‘Janko, this is our son, Lute. You haven’t seen him for some years now,’ Rodin said, both men turning to regard the boy.

  Lute couldn’t help but note that where one of the brothers beamed with pride, the other did not successfully hide his disdain. The memory of what he’d heard earlier was haunting him. And the look he saw flit across Janko’s face suggested the Duke was not enamoured of the idea that a child had shunted him from that enviable position of heir. Lute reminded himself to be careful.

  ‘Lute?’ Janko said, mock awe in his voice. ‘Stars save me,’ he said, ‘child, you’ve grown! How tall and strong you look now.’

  Lute darted a look at his mother and with almost imperceptible encouragement from her soft smile, he nodded low at his father’s brother. ‘Duke Janko. Yes, sir, I’m a lot older now and I love to ride, shoot, hunt, swim, fight. I hope I’ll make you proud.’

  The Duke bowed. ‘Majesty,’ he said, more formally now and with much reverence, ‘do call me Uncle.’

  ‘Welcome back to Floris,’ Lute said carefully. ‘I hear you were successful in the north.’ He had practised this compliment with Pilo, ensuring he got just the right amount of awe but also dignity into his words, as though spoken like a king in waiting.

  ‘As usual,’ his father said, adding lightness to an otherwise bare conversation.

  Another glance towards his mother told Lute that she too sensed the awkward pause, the stilted nature of their exchange.

  And no doubt simply because she did so love the King, she rushed to help out. ‘Perhaps you’d like to go out riding with your uncle tomorrow, Lute? I’m sure Pilo would accompany and it would be a great chance for Janko to have some time with you,’ she tried. ‘Janko’s an expert horseman. I’m sure he’d like to see your father’s latest acquisition for your stable.’

  ‘I’d be delighted to,’ Lute replied, once again adopting the polite tone Pilo had rehearsed with him. ‘Father’s given me a beautiful filly.’

  ‘A filly, eh?’ Janko replied. ‘And how well do you ride?’

  ‘It’s not a question of how well but how fast,’ the King said with mock weariness. ‘Can’t get it into these boys’ heads that it’s about finesse not speed.’

  ‘Oh, Rodin,’ Miralda said with an amused glance back at her son.

  ‘Alright, alright,’ the King admitted, ‘yes, Janko, your nephew is a talented rider. I’m sure you’ll be impressed.’

  ‘You will go along too, won’t you, Rodin?’ Miralda asked. Lute sensed the worry in her voice, even though she tried to disguise it from Janko.

  Rodin shook his head. ‘Pilo will. What about you, my love?’

  ‘Ah, that’s right, you’re something of a horsewoman, aren’t you, Miralda?’

  She smiled but Lute could see how forced it was. ‘I love to ride. But not tomorrow.’ Lute knew her too well. He could see in her eyes that she couldn’t imagine anything worse than riding with Janko while trying to remain gracious and polite throughout the conversation. ‘Pilo and Lute will be fine company for you.’

  ‘I can’t wait,’ Janko said, grinning at him and Lute bristled at the oily sound of insincerity in his voice. ‘Who taught him?’

  ‘Pilo taught me,’ Lute answered for himself. ‘Pilo is my teacher in everything. Er, sorry, Father, I meant that as no—’

  ‘Not at all, my boy. No offence taken,’ Rodin said. ‘Janko, this is Pilo. He joined the elite servants about four years ago, was it?’ Pilo nodded, said nothing. ‘And about two years ago took over full responsibility for Lute. He’s become indispensable to us, I have to admit. And, as you can see, Lute has come along very well since you last clapped eyes on him.’

  ‘My word, you have!’ Janko admitted. ‘The last time we met you were such a weakling, Lute. Always running behind your mother’s skirts. But you’re tall and look strong and healthy. I’m pleased. Almost ready for soldiering. How old are you now?’

  His mother probably hoped that Janko had missed the worried glance that Pilo threw her way but Lute didn’t, even as he prepared to answer. ‘I’m thirteen summers, Uncle.’

  ‘Bit young for your army, Janko,’ Rodin said, with a friendly punch to his brother’s arm. ‘Anyway, let us go. You must be eager to settle back into your old place. I’ll walk with you—I could use the exercise and we can talk on the way. I think Miralda’s organised the entire west wing of the palace for you if that suits?’

  ‘Suits perfectly. My thanks to you both,’ Janko said, smiling. ‘Tomorrow morning, then, Lute,’ he added. ‘Let’s plan a ride for just after dawn.’

  Lute nodded. ‘I look forward to it, Uncle Janko.’

  ‘Until tonight, then, majesty,’ the Duke said and swept towards the main doors of the salon, the King in tow.

  Miralda turned back to her son but she cast a glance Pilo’s way when she spoke. ‘Lute, would you ask Dalz to organise some fresh watered wine, please? This is too warm for my taste and by all means order some pastries for yourself. I happen to know cook’s made some fresh honeycakes.’

  Lute grinned. He went in search of the servants, who had been banished in case the King and Duke needed to speak privately. But so far everything had been very conversational and unimportant. Perhaps more would be revealed on the ride tomorrow. He left the chamber eager for cake but reminding himself to talk to Pilo about the soldier’s comment.

  As soon as Lute was out of earshot, Miralda changed her lighthearted tone. ‘Listen to me very carefully now,’ she said, her expression filled with anxiety as she regarded Pilo. ‘That man is not nearly as friendly as he seems.’

  Pilo blinked and finally spoke for the first time since entering the royal chamber. ‘How would you like me to treat that warning, majesty?’

  ‘Pilo, I trust you completely so I’m going to be candid with you and share my deepest fear. Lute is in danger. I’m sure of it but my husband is not very receptive to the hints I’ve dropped. He holds his brother in very high regard and I have no proof anyway. However, my instincts tell me that the Duke does not wish my son a long and happy life.’

  Pilo stared at her, his blue eyes darkening as he considered the Queen’s fears. ‘Do you question his loyalty, your majesty?’

  She had never admitted such a thing aloud but the man’s question deserved an equally direct response. ‘Not to Drestonia. But I don’t believe he’s as loyal to the family as he tries to appear. I am truly anxious.’

  Pilo’s gaze narrowed and Miralda felt the full weight of this unfathomable man’s stare. In truth he was such an unknown quantity. She realised she entrusted her most precious possession to this quiet man, who said little. However, Lute loved him and she had absolutely no complaint about his care for her son, whom he’d helped bring out of his shell. Lute had become a far more adventurous child since Pilo had come into his life.

  ‘I fear for Lute,’ she repeated.

  ‘Then I will take precautions, majesty.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Miralda replied, unsure of what else she could say to explain her seemingly irrational anxiety.

  ‘Perhaps you should come on the ride with us?’ he suggested. ‘You would enjoy it.’

  ‘Oh I know I’d enjoy being out riding with Lute and yourself but no! Definitely not with the Duke in tow. I’d struggle to keep my manners gracious around that man. Something about him brings out the worst in me. And I’d rather it was a pleasurable experience. I am uncomfortable with him being around Lute but at the same time I realise that my son must get to know Janko. The King has enormous admiration and regard for the man. And I respect that they are brothers. Family ties are important.’ She looked immediately embarrassed at her last words, glancing away.

  The servant frowned, clearly not understanding her sudden discomfort, and bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement as Lute returned with the news that cook had also made custard wafers, his favourite.

  ‘A huge tray is on the way up now,’ he said, ‘still warm!’

  ‘Lucky you, darling,’ she said and hugged
him while looking over at Pilo, impressing upon the servant that this child was everything to her. Everything. And she needed to secure his safety, his throne.

  5

  Tess stared incredulously at Griff. ‘You can hear my thoughts?’ she repeated, her tone suggesting she didn’t believe him.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, embarrassed. ‘Only the ones that you are so aware of that you…well, you force them out beyond your mind, I suppose.’ He’d kept the secret for years and now he’d spilled it twice in the same day to different people, both relative strangers, although he felt he could trust Tess. The silence stretched until he felt uncomfortable and was about to excuse himself when Tess surprised him.

  ‘I believe you,’ she said, her expression grave.

  ‘You do?’

  Tess nodded. ‘No-one else could know what you revealed. You had to be able to hear my thoughts to have that information about my sister.’ She looked shaken.

  Griff took a deep, relieved breath. ‘I’m sorry about your sister, Tess. I’m sorry that you’re alone.’

  ‘I have my creature friends,’ she replied sorrowfully but then brightened. ‘And now I have you. I don’t envy you that skill. It must be hard to live with.’

  Tess was the first person who had ever sympathised. His brothers thought he was the luckiest person alive to possess such a gift, while Tyren, he sensed, was plotting to find a way he could make use of it. His father had not wanted to talk about it, had even become angry the last time Griff had mentioned his talent. That had been many years ago. He had not discussed it with anyone since then—until today. He wanted to hug Tess for feeling sympathy. ‘That doesn’t even begin to cover it. There are times when I just want to run away, head for the forest and live alone.’

  ‘So you do know how I feel.’ She smiled. ‘Hearing others think. Hmmm, that must be truly awful. Is that why you hurried away from the meal tent?’

  ‘Yes.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m fortunate that it’s only thoughts of high importance to people that I can hear. But a crowd can overwhelm me.’ He looked over at Rix, noticing the veercat’s huge pointed ears erect and moving to catch every sound they could. ‘He looks content.’

  ‘He’s more comfortable amongst the grasses and trees.’ She stroked him. ‘But he’s not liking this rope.’

  ‘There’s yards of it, Tess. He can move the full length of this clearing. They won’t hurt one another will they?’

  She gave a snort. ‘Don’t be mad. They’re my friends, which means they look after each other.’

  Griff turned to regard the centaur with awe once again. ‘Will Davren let me close?’ He’d been glancing at the beast, determined to get to know him better but not wanting to frighten the centaur or Tess with his eagerness. ‘He’s magnificent,’ he added, noticing the creature’s broad chest and muscled physique. Davren’s hair was dark and shaggy, falling in soft waves to his wide shoulders. To all intents he looked like a young man to his waist but from there on he became all beast, similar to a horse. His body was sleek and shiny with dark chestnut-coloured hair covering his withers and flank. ‘He looks so strong.’

  She nodded and Griff edged towards the young centaur.

  ‘Are you talking to him?’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘Reassuring him. You can’t hear?’

  ‘No. I can’t listen in on conversations. I know it’s hard for you to imagine but all I can do is hear a person thinking something when it’s really important to them. Is Davren scared?’

  ‘He trusts me. He knows I wouldn’t do this for someone I was not sure of.’

  Griff felt a momentary thrill pulse through him. Tess was his first chance at real friendship. Apart from his brothers he lived on the fringe of the show folk, not really close to anyone. That she had chosen to trust him meant everything.

  ‘Just hold out your hand.’

  Griff did so, marvelling at the perfectly sculpted head and torso of a boy, not very much older than himself, who possessed the body of a horse. He was lean and muscled. ‘He’s so incredible to look at.’

  ‘He’s very strong, as you’ve noticed. But he’s not comfortable here, so he’s a bit nervous.’

  ‘No parents?’

  ‘He’s an orphan. He won’t talk about what happened.’

  Davren reached out and placed his open palm beneath Griff’s hand.

  ‘This is his formal greeting. Now turn your hand so that his ends up on top of yours,’ Tess guided. ‘That’s how you say hello properly in Centaurian.’

  Griff did as she suggested and won a tentative smile from Davren. ‘How did you learn such things?’

  She shrugged. ‘I sense them or the creatures teach me. He likes you. He says you will be a good friend to us. He trusts you. You should talk to him. He understands, he just can’t talk back to you in the normal manner but he can communicate with the others—reassure them about you.’ She too smiled gently. ‘And he can talk to you through me if you like.’

  ‘I’m pleased to hear that he likes me,’ Griff said, genuinely delighted. He tore his eyes from the handsome centaur and looked at the equally intriguing black-and-white striped sagar. ‘Elph looks calm, too.’

  ‘Elph is always calm. Sagars are sleepy creatures until they’re frightened or disturbed in some way. So long as Elph has food, somewhere soft to sleep and is near us,’ she said, taking in herself and her creatures with a wave of her hand, ‘he’s happy.’ Griff grinned at Elph’s long, strong snout that he could use as a tool for everything from feeding himself to exploring with. His six thick stumpy legs intrigued Griff.

  ‘And Helys seems fine, too.’ He smiled at the small creature that reminded him of a hairless puppy—her features were fine and delicate, like a mouse. She had very long whiskers that twitched constantly, seeking information from the surrounds, and her round ears moved equally incessantly, picking up every sound in an equally anxious manner. Her eyes were huge and dark with long dark lashes. He thought her most beautiful.

  ‘Yes, she seems fine but she’s not because she’s pale blue today, which means she’s very nervous.’

  ‘What is her happy colour?’

  ‘Normally a buttery-yellow colour signifies she’s feeling safe and happy—she goes a bit orange when she’s joyous. Green is her calm, content colour.’

  ‘Does she get cold with no fur or feathers?’

  ‘No. I don’t really understand how her body works but she’s off the purples, so this place is more to her liking. She thinks you’re handsome by the way.’

  Griff felt his cheeks redden. ‘Well, she’d be the first to think so. Trust my luck…a califa!’

  Tess giggled. ‘She’s incredibly pretty by califa standards.’

  ‘I can see that—even though I didn’t know until now what a califa looked like. Please tell her I think she’s very beautiful,’ Griff replied, no longer blushing. Tess must have told Helys because the little creature glowed orange momentarily. He cleared his throat. ‘So you feel comfortable with your friends here? I’m sorry they’re tied up, Tess, but we just have to prove to Tyren that you are cooperating.’

  Before Tess could answer, the showmaster stomped into the clearing with Chauncey, whose mouth was slack with wonder when he sighted the animals. ‘You’re not defying me are you, young Tess?’

  ‘No, Master Tyren,’ she replied, glancing at Chauncey, who appeared entranced. ‘Er, I took Griff’s advice and each of the creatures is secured by a rope. They feel safer here than among the wagons.’

  ‘I’ve explained to Tess that we don’t always stop in places where woods are so near, Master Tyren,’ Griff lied, but he knew precisely how the showmaster’s mind worked and decided he would cut off any objections before they arose. ‘I think if we can just win the creatures’ trust in these early weeks whilst we’re still moving along the fringe of the woods, then by the time we reach somewhere like Cupsley, or Bridgetown, they will allow us to house them beneath a tent or in a wagon.’

  ‘But what if someone should see them he
re?’ Tyren exclaimed.

  Tess shook her head. ‘They won’t. My creatures know how to hide themselves. They are well practised. And we’re not here long enough are we?’

  Chauncey didn’t reply and got a dig in the ribs from his boss to prompt him to pay attention.

  ‘Sorry, Master Tyren,’ the big man said, ‘Cor, these beasts will fill the tent over and over.’

  Tyren threw him a greedy look of agreement. ‘How long are we here?’ he repeated.

  Chauncey tore his gaze from the quartet of curious creatures and shrugged. ‘We perform tomorrow; we’re gone the next morning, Boss.’

  Tyren’s eyes narrowed, deepening into his fleshy face. ‘Alright. I’m holding you responsible, Griff. This was your idea. If I lose a single creature, you and your brothers will go without wages for a year.’

  Griff nodded, hardly even hearing the threat. ‘You won’t lose any of them, I promise.’

  ‘How can you be so sure she won’t run?’ Tyren demanded. Then as though something had dawned on him, he smiled. ‘Ah, of course. I understand how you know. Very good. I want to talk to you, Griff. Come see me later. It’s important.’

  Griff did not allow his anxiety to show. He simply nodded, although he knew what it meant: Tyren was going to ask him to perform.

  ‘Settle in, Tess and start thinking about your act, what you’re going to wear and how you’re going to approach presenting the beasts,’ Tyren said over his shoulder. ‘Don’t even think about escape. Griff here will tell me if you do.’ He left with Chauncey in tow, both chuckling quietly.