MY HEART STOPPED. The tablecloth seemed mere linen, but the boots!
Lady Mother picked one up and held it out. “I wonder that you keep such worn-out footwear, Goodman Adeer.” She smiled at the absurdity of the Bamarre. “Look, Tove. The sole is flapping.”
She’d protected us! And squelched any interest Lord Tove might have had in my sack.
Poppi said, “Poor people don’t discard anything that may be patched, Lady.” His eyes flicked to me.
He’d given me away!
Lady Mother’s eyes found mine, too. I didn’t know how to look, so I smiled at her.
Her face froze in horror. She’d recognized my smile—I’d given myself away!
Then she frowned, seeming puzzled. I could almost hear her thoughts: Perry could have the same smile as the great-aunt. They’re related. She couldn’t be her own great-aunt.
Had Lady Mother told Lord Tove about Halina?
She wouldn’t have if she hoped to protect me.
The ransacking of our small cottage didn’t take long. When the soldiers finished, Lord Tove told them to search Poppi’s and Drualt’s clothing. Then he opened the door and called in a female soldier.
“Search the women.”
Oh, no! When my purse was emptied, both Lord Tove and Lady Mother would recognize my little knife, which he himself had given me when I was eight. The brass handle was a representation of a hawk’s feather.
The female soldier, also a stranger to me, began with Mama.
Lady Mother said, “I tire of waiting. I’ll search the aunt.”
Lord Tove raised his eyebrows, revealing that he didn’t entirely trust his wife. I tried to look old, sick, and as defenseless as he thought all us Bamarre.
“Stand, Goodwife.” Lady Mother faced me with her back to Lord Tove, which also blocked him from my view.
I stood. She had me take off my cap, as if I might have hidden I-don’t-know-what atop my scalp.
“Your hair is thin, Grandmother.” She returned the cap to me, patted lightly around my waist, the small of my back, up and down my legs, wherever I might have concealed anything worth noting.
As she bent down, I was able to see that Lord Tove had lost interest in me. A dog lover, he was engaged in petting Baka.
“Your purse.” Lady Mother untied it from my belt and unknotted the drawstring. I heard a tiny intake of breath. “Look at me!”
My chest seemed to close in. I met her eyes. She was going to reveal my little knife!
“How do you come to have a silver coin?” Her voice was harsh, but her eyes were as soft as I’d ever seen them.
I felt Lord Tove’s attention.
Why might Nadira have such a big sum? Few Bamarre were rich, and I doubted any of my relatives were. What could I say?
My family seemed to cease breathing.
“Er . . . I . . . Begging your pardon. Er . . . I found it in the road.”
In two steps, Lord Tove stood before me. “You lie to my wife?”
“Er . . . begging your pardon . . . it’s true.”
“And you took it? When it didn’t belong to you?” He drew back his arm and punched me, catching the side of my face and my ear. The tassel dug into my skin. My neck jerked.
Someone gasped.
Poppi said warningly, “Drualt . . .”
My ear felt on fire. I fought tears.
And rage. I could punch him back. My attack would be unexpected. My muscles tensed. Freedom for the Bamarre!
Lady Mother said, “Grandmother, the truth is safer than a lie.”
Her voice calmed me. I unclenched my fists.
“How did you come by it?” she asked.
Let me cry rather than attack, since I’m a Bamarre. I sobbed into my hands. Mistress Clarra taught her students to live to fight again. Dignity didn’t matter.
“Let me see the purse, Klausine.”
My little knife! In a minute he’d know me. I looked up, tears still streaming.
Lady Mother gave him the purse. I glanced at her face but couldn’t read anything there.
Lord Tove undid the drawstring, which Lady Mother had retied, and emptied the contents into his hand: three copper coins, the silver, and my snail shell. Lady Mother must have taken the knife and saved me.
“Where is your little knife?” he asked. Everyone, whether a Lakti or a Bamarre, carried one.
I swallowed. My face hurt so I could hardly think. I sensed Lord Tove’s impatience. If he hit me again, I didn’t know what I’d do.
“I lost it?” I wailed. “I don’t know”—Nadira might not know to call him Lord—“er, Master? Er, Sire? Er, Sir?”
Lady Mother asked me when I’d noticed the knife was gone.
I decided to answer everything in a questioning tone. “Just now, Mistress . . . Lady? Yesterday?”
“When did you find the coin?” Lord Tove softened his voice, as if his victim could be won over. “Nothing bad will come of telling me.”
I knew how to shrug as a Bamarre, having watched Annet for years. “The day before yesterday? Tomorrow?”
“Near here?” Lady Mother said.
“Not far? Very far? Tell me what to say, if you please.” I felt a spark of pleasure in my playacting.
They asked me more questions before giving up. Lord Tove took the coins and returned my purse, with the snail shell back inside.
The soldiers went on searching. I sat with my head bent. The tears dried as if they’d never been, but the rage smoldered. I recited Freedom for the Bamarre again and again in my mind.
Finally, the soldiers finished and were sent out. Lady Mother told us that she and Lord Tove would be camped along the road west of the village.
He said, “Perry may still be on her way to you, or she may send a letter.” Then, to my astonishment, he knelt! “She is as dear to me as the breath in my lungs. We’ve trained her in arms—”
Lady Mother broke in, “—and to be hardy and cautious.”
It was a message. Take care. The pain in my ear would remind me.
Lord Tove stood again. “But she’s young and may not always be able to tell an enemy from an ally. Please, if you can lead us to her, do not hang back. You’ll be returning her to those who love her most. You’ll be relieving yourself of danger as well.”
The threat inside the sweetness. My family wouldn’t miss it.
They’d been right not to want me.
I’d been selfish to stay.
Lord Tove hadn’t finished. “I doubt this will matter, because I see how worthy you are, but I will reward you with a purse of gold coins merely for information, if it leads to her recovery.”
Would my family get rid of me and become rich?
“And, Grandmother, counsel your relatives. Everyone will benefit if Perry returns to us. You’ve discovered the foolhardiness of defiance.”
I licked my lips. “Master, I’ve never been defiant in my life.”
“Good.” He flung on his cloak. “I’ll rely on you.”
They left.
Without them, the tiny cottage seemed large and empty—and a wreck, with mattress straw everywhere, crockery out of the cupboard, pots and pans scattered, Poppi’s thread in a jumble, bolts of cloth unspooled on the floor.
Drualt ran to me and touched my face softly, but his touch still hurt. I called on my Lakti endurance.
We began to put things to rights.
At first, no one spoke. I’m sure we all suspected we’d be overheard.
Mama whispered explosively, “Why didn’t you say you had a silver coin?”
“I forgot I had it.” I remembered to add an apology.
After everyone recited the proverb, Annet raised one eyebrow. “Still a rich Lakti, begging your pardon.”
“We should have told the fairy we couldn’t keep her, no matter whose body she was given.” Mama rolled up a length of brown linen. “Too late now.”
I said, “They would have come anyway.”
Annet said it was Lakti-like and rude to contradict people.
As if unaware of the anger flying about, Drualt said, “Aunt Nadira, you should rest. Phlegm fever is tiring!” He laughed, as if he’d told a marvelous joke.
I gathered my courage. “I’ll tell them who I am. They’ll take me and go.”
Drualt shook his head violently.
Annet whispered, spitting in her vehemence, “You stupid Lakti! Begging your pardon!”
“How am I stupid, begging your pardon?”
Mama explained. “If you admit who you are, we still sheltered you.”
“You thought I was Nadira.”
Everyone laughed, not just Drualt.
“They’ll see through that,” Poppi said. “We’d be punished.”
Apparently, they didn’t believe the promise of gold coins.
Mama whispered, “Why did Lady Klausine hold up the boots?”
“She gave them to me. She kept my little knife, because Lord Tove would have recognized it. That’s why I didn’t have it. I think she knows who I really am.”
“Magic boots, a magic tablecloth,” Poppi said. “Dangerous—”
“The pudding!” Mama cried.
I took out the tablecloth.
The meal arrived soundlessly. Drualt lunged and, before Poppi had time to stop him, crammed a cheese puff in his mouth. As soon as he swallowed, he whispered, “I’ve never tasted anything so good.”
Mama frowned. The tablecloth had delivered a peach tart and a small bowl of marchpane but no pudding. Each dessert was enough to serve us, but not the Ships and their guests. Even I knew Mama couldn’t bring the tart when peaches were out of season, and she said the marchpane was too rich for His Master-ship’s pantry.
I made the feast disappear. On the next try, we got sugarplums and fried apples drizzled with honey. No pudding.
Mama set the apples aside, because they could be served.
I kept calling forth fresh meals. Mother saved whatever might be used: a goat-cheese cake, gingerbread cookies, a walnut tart. And Drualt removed a platter or two as well. By then, no one stopped him.
Finally, we received a small raisin pudding. Mama decided she couldn’t wait for more and began to arrange the food in a basket until Annet said, “We can’t bring those dishes.”
The pottery was rimmed with gold or silver. They exchanged the fine platters and bowls for plain.
Mama told me to stay home. “You’ve had enough Bamarre education for one day, and we’ve had enough of the Lakti.” She really meant she’d had enough of me.
I thought,
If I were a flea
Another flea
Would love me.
Many bugs,
Many hugs.