ring. The moment the first dog lunged for no reason and sank teeth in the bull’s tender nose.
Had I been in Evans’s place, I would have told the ungrateful wretch I was “dawdling” so he could keep up. But Evans only regarded me with those probing eyes.
Evans no longer stopped, but he still slowed his steps. I all but ran in an effort to force him to speed up. Bedraggled, more than a little breathless, I entered a corridor, sensed a change in the giant ambling beside me. “These are Her Majesty’s privy quarters,” he said, “the place where she seeks refuge with only those she loves and trusts about her.”
I did not think I could walk any faster, but I did.
“Jeffrey, Her Majesty has not asked for you yet. There is no reason to race about.”
I could hear muffled voices—the queen’s, then a man’s, a burred Scots accent garbling in French so impassioned, I could not understand it. “Someone sounds angry with the queen,” I said.
“We can often hear the queen and her ladies through the wall. Makes it easier to answer the summons and to gauge what mood Her Majesty is in.”
And it would make it easier for Buckingham’s spy.
“Do you know who her visitor is?”
“It is your job to distract her from such unpleasantness, not add to it with questions about things that are none of your concern.” It was the sharpest Will Evans had been with me. I was surprised how his tone stung.
“You are right. I just…” I fumbled for a lie and settled for an unrelated truth. “I do not like to hear any woman spoken to thus. It reminds me of my mother and how my father plagues her.”
The storm in Evans’s eyes receded. “I do not like to hear the queen plagued, either, but I do not believe her visitor is angry with her. They are both angry about something else.”
I started to say “What?” then stopped. Too much curiosity would stir up his suspicion.
“They are trying to decide what to do about an injustice,” Evans continued. “But that is their burden to shoulder. You will find your own employment on the other side of this door.”
He nodded toward the carved wood panel. “Courtiers call this ‘the Freaks’ Lair.’ It is where we await Her Majesty’s summons. We keep whatever tools our trade demands—dancing ropes, props for magic tricks, beribboned hoops and such. Practice new tricks. Sometimes we take our meals when not performing or at our other duties.”
“What other duties?”
“I’m porter of the queen’s back stairs. No one gets past my guard to see the queen unless I give them leave to.”
You cannot be a very good guard, I thought. You know I come from Buckingham, but you trip over your own feet to make me comfortable.
“You will be spending many hours in this place with these people,” Evans said. “I hope you will be happy here.”
“In a ‘Freak’s Lair’?” I asked, incredulous.
Will Evans looked down at me with such sadness, it surprised me. “We are all twisted somewhere, Jeffrey. Some are freaks on the outside, where everyone can see; others are twisted inside.”
I wondered what Will Evans saw when he looked at me. All at once, I would have given anything to water down his pointed gaze. I hitched up my borrowed breeches, steeled my nerves, and stepped into a chamber stranger than any I had ever known.
S IX
The chamber I stepped into was more like a shipwreck than a palace. A battering ram of gazes nearly pushed me back out. Rigging swooped from a hook driven into one wall to a second hook on the other side of the room. Ribbon-trimmed barrel hoops hung over the back of one chair, and costumes lay about the room like colorful corpses after a battle. A war the gigantic fowl on the platter had lost.
The “curiosities of nature” were in the midst of devouring their roasted enemy. Five souls clustered around a long table, hands frozen midair, jaws stilled in the midst of chewing.
Time seemed to stop as I attempted to take the whole company in.
Had I been in Evans’s place, I would have told the ungrateful wretch I was “dawdling” so he could keep up. But Evans only regarded me with those probing eyes.
Evans no longer stopped, but he still slowed his steps. I all but ran in an effort to force him to speed up. Bedraggled, more than a little breathless, I entered a corridor, sensed a change in the giant ambling beside me. “These are Her Majesty’s privy quarters,” he said, “the place where she seeks refuge with only those she loves and trusts about her.”
I did not think I could walk any faster, but I did.
“Jeffrey, Her Majesty has not asked for you yet. There is no reason to race about.”
I could hear muffled voices—the queen’s, then a man’s, a burred Scots accent garbling in French so impassioned, I could not understand it. “Someone sounds angry with the queen,” I said.
“We can often hear the queen and her ladies through the wall. Makes it easier to answer the summons and to gauge what mood Her Majesty is in.”
And it would make it easier for Buckingham’s spy.
“Do you know who her visitor is?”
“It is your job to distract her from such unpleasantness, not add to it with questions about things that are none of your concern.” It was the sharpest Will Evans had been with me. I was surprised how his tone stung.
“You are right. I just…” I fumbled for a lie and settled for an unrelated truth. “I do not like to hear any woman spoken to thus. It reminds me of my mother and how my father plagues her.”
The storm in Evans’s eyes receded. “I do not like to hear the queen plagued, either, but I do not believe her visitor is angry with her. They are both angry about something else.”
I started to say “What?” then stopped. Too much curiosity would stir up his suspicion.
“They are trying to decide what to do about an injustice,” Evans continued. “But that is their burden to shoulder. You will find your own employment on the other side of this door.”
He nodded toward the carved wood panel. “Courtiers call this ‘the Freaks’ Lair.’ It is where we await Her Majesty’s summons. We keep whatever tools our trade demands—dancing ropes, props for magic tricks, beribboned hoops and such. Practice new tricks. Sometimes we take our meals when not performing or at our other duties.”
“What other duties?”
“I’m porter of the queen’s back stairs. No one gets past my guard to see the queen unless I give them leave to.”
You cannot be a very good guard, I thought. You know I come from Buckingham, but you trip over your own feet to make me comfortable.
“You will be spending many hours in this place with these people,” Evans said. “I hope you will be happy here.”
“In a ‘Freak’s Lair’?” I asked, incredulous.
Will Evans looked down at me with such sadness, it surprised me. “We are all twisted somewhere, Jeffrey. Some are freaks on the outside, where everyone can see; others are twisted inside.”
I wondered what Will Evans saw when he looked at me. All at once, I would have given anything to water down his pointed gaze. I hitched up my borrowed breeches, steeled my nerves, and stepped into a chamber stranger than any I had ever known.
S IX
The chamber I stepped into was more like a shipwreck than a palace. A battering ram of gazes nearly pushed me back out. Rigging swooped from a hook driven into one wall to a second hook on the other side of the room. Ribbon-trimmed barrel hoops hung over the back of one chair, and costumes lay about the room like colorful corpses after a battle. A war the gigantic fowl on the platter had lost.
The “curiosities of nature” were in the midst of devouring their roasted enemy. Five souls clustered around a long table, hands frozen midair, jaws stilled in the midst of chewing.
Time seemed to stop as I attempted to take the whole company in.
Similar Books
