WORMY DIDN’T VISIT the next day—or the next, or the day after that. Three days out of my dwindling store—from nine days to six.
Only two patients sought me out: one with a bunion and one with dizzy spells. Thus far, though the blight was over, the king hadn’t tossed me out. Trunk gave me food, and the pigs liked me.
Lady Eleanor said Sir Titus had resumed his practice on Eastview Street. “People of fashion and the king consult him, but I would go to you.” She stirred an imaginary spoon in an imaginary beaker. In a cracked voice with a wheeze, she said, “‘This decoction cured my grandmother’s grandmother and her grandmother’s grandmother and her . . .’” She laughed. “You’re more modern. But I’m rarely sick. Sorry!”
During Wormy’s absence, Squire Jerrold continued his visits. I’d have guessed he came for Lady Eleanor’s company, but she seemed not to interest him. He appeared gladdest to see Trunk, who was probably the reason for his calls.
I imagined that he was also drawn to the puzzle I presented: whatever it was that neither I nor his grandfather could tell him. Or I was one of his good deeds—calling on the poor ogre, who had few friends, who was distrusted by almost everyone.
He generally kept half the kitchen between us, even though I stayed tolerably clean, continued to shave every morning, and hadn’t ceased dabbing myself with my dreadful perfume. I couldn’t afford to pass up an opportunity in case he decided he loved me and I decided I loved him—or in the event that some other charming person happened by.
On the third morning without Wormy, I asked Lady Eleanor what she planned to wear to her ball.
“My green gown.” She smiled. “Grass green with a thin stripe of moss green. It’s my favorite. The stripes run—Oh! What will you wear, Mistress Evie?”
“Faded brown or faded mulberry. Which will be best?”
“I’m sorry.” She considered the choice. “I like the brown better.”
I happened to be wearing the mulberry. Perhaps she would have preferred it if I’d been in the brown.
Trunk intoned, “Dame Baita died.”
I hadn’t heard of her, so she might have succumbed before I came. Trunk hadn’t been here, either, but he knew everything.
Lady Eleanor’s face lit up. “She had excellent taste.”
And a large body, I deduced.
People thought it bad luck to wear a dead person’s apparel. I shared the superstition, but I doubted my fortunes could worsen.
“I’ll go,” Lady Eleanor said. “The family knows me.”
How kind she was.
She left the castle and returned in an hour with a gown. “This one isn’t right. I know it isn’t. I just brought it to see if it fits.”
Why hadn’t she come with one that might be right? Oh. Because hours had passed since I’d bathed.
The gown was big in the chest, tight in the waist, and perfect in length. One of Dame Baita’s frocks would do.
Lady Eleanor clapped her hands. “Come to my house early. Come at noon. We’ll have hours to choose your gown and primp. Our cook, Mandy, is a wonder with the toilette.”
Trunk said, “Cooks have many talents.”
Wormy didn’t come the next day, either. I had five days left. Why wasn’t he with me, giving me the comfort of his company and the assurance that his friendship would continue? Unless it had already ended. Unless, when we were in the library, I’d said something to wound him. I went over our conversation again and again without guessing what it might have been.
In the morning, Trunk returned from the market and slammed his purchases down on his worktable.
“What’s amiss?” I put aside the bandage I’d been rolling. I had enough bandage to swath the entire castle.
“Nothing, Mistress Ogre.”
Lady Eleanor came in a few minutes later and seemed troubled, too.
“Will someone tell me what’s wrong?”
“There are wolves.” Lady Eleanor warmed her hands at the fire. “There have always been wolves.”
“Are wolves attacking Frell?” I asked. That would be unheard of.
“No attack, Mistress Ogre,” Trunk said.
What then?
Wolves . . . livestock. “Wolves have gotten some livestock?”
“Yes,” Trunk said. “That’s what I think.”
But not everybody agreed? Other people thought . . . what?
The answer arrived. “People think it was ogres?”
“Not everyone thinks that.” Lady Eleanor perched on a stool by my table. “Just some do.”
Trunk untied the knot on one of his bundles and didn’t look up. “They don’t think it was ogres.” He emphasized the s. “They think it was one ogre.”
Me.
They explained that yesterday a delegation of farmers from the outskirts of Frell had had an audience with King Imbert. The farmers had recently lost sheep, lambs, and goats but not their dogs. The farmers blamed me.
This was Sir Peter’s doing. I was sure of it.
“Everyone knows that dogs like you,” Trunk said unhappily. “They don’t think you’d eat one. That’s why they believe it was you and not wolves or other ogres.”
“Sheep like me, too. So do goats. I sleep with the pigs, and they’re fine.” My voice sounded raspy, even for me. “I have plenty to eat right here!”
Trunk added, “The farmers knew about the meat sticks.”
Only Sir Peter could have been the source of this intelligence, probably through others.
Lady Eleanor looked confused.
“I used to steal them.”
“She wasn’t an evil thief,” Trunk said. “The meat sticks were how we knew she wasn’t evil. And after she kidnapped the master, we knew, too.”
Lady Eleanor laughed. “But if she hadn’t stolen anything or kidnapped anyone, you would have known she was evil!”
“It wasn’t that way,” Trunk said earnestly. “The master has sheep and goats. She didn’t bother them. She just took dried meat. She didn’t hurt the master, either. She told him to feed me sheep’s milk.”
“Ah. Now I see.” Lady Eleanor’s face was merry.
Squire Jerrold came in and went to the table where Trunk was unknotting another bundle of provisions. As usual, the squire didn’t remove his cloak—he never stayed long. He said nothing, which wasn’t unusual, either, but ordinarily he helped Trunk with whatever was going forward.
“The livestock?” I said. “Squire Jerrold, you’ve heard?”
He hadn’t. Trunk and Lady Eleanor retold the tale.
“I see,” he said at the end. After a pause, he added, “I heard worse yesterday.”
What? We all waited.
He addressed the floor. “I don’t know whether to tell you or not.”
“Now you must!” Lady Eleanor said.
“They’re saying that the blight dead were bothered—were partly eaten.”
Lady Eleanor made a strangled moan.
Absently, to give my hands a task, I began to roll bandages again. My anger rose. How many of those who believed the rumors were alive because of me?
The squire’s eyes finally met mine. “I went to the pits.”
Because so many had succumbed, most of the dead had been buried together in two pits, one outside the castle on the far side of the moat, and the other outside the town walls.
“I don’t think the pits were disturbed at all,” he said. “I keep asking, but I can’t find anyone who’s seen a half-eaten corpse.”
“People believe it anyway?” I asked, keeping my voice neutral.
He nodded. He glanced at Lady Eleanor and held back what was certainly true, that Sir Peter was the source of this rumor. And the other one.
My voice rose. “Why would I stop at half a body? I could eat dead humans. I’m always hungry enough.” I went to the cutting board and carved a shank off the boar Trunk had roasted overnight. “I’d pick the youngest and plumpest ones, and I’d eat them down to the bone.” I bit into the boar.
Lady Eleanor embraced me, undeterred by my odor. “The ball will reassure everyone.” She choked out a laugh. “They’ll dance with you or see you dance. They’ll know you’re civilized.”
But should I leave Frell tonight? That was probably what Sir Peter wanted. Returning to the actual accusation, I said, “Trunk, what did the king tell the farmers?”
He didn’t know, but he winked. “I’ll visit the laundress.”
Half an hour later he was back, his expression no less worried than before. “King Imbert sent soldiers to guard the flocks.”
“Did he believe the accusations against me?”
“He said he’d wait for proof to decide.”
Proof wouldn’t come. Sir Peter’s accomplices wouldn’t attack livestock with soldiers on patrol. Small comfort.
The corpse rumors were the stuff of nightmare. Fear would grow.
And I doubted Sir Peter had just two arrows in his quiver. What would he do next?