Read Online The Urchin of the Riding Stars by M. I. McAllister - Free Book Online
Authors: M. I. McAllister
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don’t think any of those witnesses could be sure about when they saw him.”
Urchin looked down into the cordial and shuffled his paws. He felt he ought to show surprise and horror, but he couldn’t. It was something he had to face. Husk carried a sword. He was often close to the royal apartments. And he had taken charge of the casting of lots that declared Crispin guilty. Urchin realized now that, in his heart, he’d always known Husk could be the murderer. He hadn’t wanted to believe it, but it made sense.
“All he had to do next was to get Crispin blamed and exiled,” continued Padra. “With the prince and Crispin out of the way, he’s next in line to the throne.”
“The queen could have another baby,” said Urchin.
Padra shrugged. “They say her health is almost broken, and her spirit, too,” he said. “Hardly anybody every sees her, except Aspen and the maids, and Aspen may be paw-in-paw with Husk. Weevils, plague, pestilence, rot, thunder, and lice upon him, he’s getting the island in his paw.”
“Hm,” said Fir. “And he’s clever enough to get away with it. The animals will never rise against the king. They might rise against Husk, eventually, but only if you have real evidence against him and if they realize that he isn’t obeying the king at all. But it will take a long time. You must wait for the right moment, Padra.”
“Will there ever be a right moment?” said Padra.
“There is a right moment for everything,” said Fir. “Like tides and fishing. At present, I think it is the right moment for you to give Urchin his orders. Let him finish his drink first.”
“Urchin,” said Padra briskly. “I want you to go to the king.”
Urchin spluttered on his cordial. “The king!” he gasped.
“Every animal has the right to see the king; don’t be so flustered,” said Padra. “He’ll be in the Throne Room. I need to know what plans he has for the winter, and whether the stores are full yet. Ask after the queen. Keep your eyes and ears sharp, and if Husk is there, watch him.”
Urchin held the cup tightly. It was exciting, being entrusted with secrets like this, but something knotted in his stomach when he thought of Husk as a murderer. Still, he only had to watch him. He wouldn’t be alone with him.
“Yes, sir,” he said. “And, sir, my friend Needle has a new baby brother, Scufflen. I think they’re worried. He’s a bit small.” Over the rim of his cup, he saw a look pass between Fir and Padra.
“Keep me informed,” said Padra. “And when I say ‘me,’ I mean exactly that. Me, not Husk. Finish your drink and run to the Throne Room.”
Urchin scrambled out of the window, down the wall, in through another window—it was the quickest way—and ran through the corridors to the royal chambers. At the heavy oak door of the Throne Room, he was asking the guard moles if he could speak to the king when Captain Husk himself stepped briskly from the chamber. Urchin jumped back in alarm, then tried not to be frightened.
“You’re Padra’s page, aren’t you?” said Husk. “Fetch wine from the cellar. Bring it straight here.”
“Y-yes, sir,” said Urchin. “What kind, sir?”
“Tell the otter in charge of the cellar it’s for the king,” said Husk. “He’ll know what to send. Quickly, now!”
Glad to escape, Urchin ran down to the wide, airy cellar and collected the wine—“we seem to be going through a lot of this just now,” remarked the cellar otter as he handed over the bottle—and hurried back up again. Ahead of him, a squirrel who looked very much like Gleaner dashed across and jumped from a window, but so quickly that Urchin couldn’t be quite sure who it was. He arrived at the Throne Room door a little breathless, was let in by the moles, and waited by the door as Padra had taught him.
Bottle in paws, he watched, remembering Padra’s instructions. Since the prince’s death the king seemed to have grown old—tired, and gray at the
Urchin looked down into the cordial and shuffled his paws. He felt he ought to show surprise and horror, but he couldn’t. It was something he had to face. Husk carried a sword. He was often close to the royal apartments. And he had taken charge of the casting of lots that declared Crispin guilty. Urchin realized now that, in his heart, he’d always known Husk could be the murderer. He hadn’t wanted to believe it, but it made sense.
“All he had to do next was to get Crispin blamed and exiled,” continued Padra. “With the prince and Crispin out of the way, he’s next in line to the throne.”
“The queen could have another baby,” said Urchin.
Padra shrugged. “They say her health is almost broken, and her spirit, too,” he said. “Hardly anybody every sees her, except Aspen and the maids, and Aspen may be paw-in-paw with Husk. Weevils, plague, pestilence, rot, thunder, and lice upon him, he’s getting the island in his paw.”
“Hm,” said Fir. “And he’s clever enough to get away with it. The animals will never rise against the king. They might rise against Husk, eventually, but only if you have real evidence against him and if they realize that he isn’t obeying the king at all. But it will take a long time. You must wait for the right moment, Padra.”
“Will there ever be a right moment?” said Padra.
“There is a right moment for everything,” said Fir. “Like tides and fishing. At present, I think it is the right moment for you to give Urchin his orders. Let him finish his drink first.”
“Urchin,” said Padra briskly. “I want you to go to the king.”
Urchin spluttered on his cordial. “The king!” he gasped.
“Every animal has the right to see the king; don’t be so flustered,” said Padra. “He’ll be in the Throne Room. I need to know what plans he has for the winter, and whether the stores are full yet. Ask after the queen. Keep your eyes and ears sharp, and if Husk is there, watch him.”
Urchin held the cup tightly. It was exciting, being entrusted with secrets like this, but something knotted in his stomach when he thought of Husk as a murderer. Still, he only had to watch him. He wouldn’t be alone with him.
“Yes, sir,” he said. “And, sir, my friend Needle has a new baby brother, Scufflen. I think they’re worried. He’s a bit small.” Over the rim of his cup, he saw a look pass between Fir and Padra.
“Keep me informed,” said Padra. “And when I say ‘me,’ I mean exactly that. Me, not Husk. Finish your drink and run to the Throne Room.”
Urchin scrambled out of the window, down the wall, in through another window—it was the quickest way—and ran through the corridors to the royal chambers. At the heavy oak door of the Throne Room, he was asking the guard moles if he could speak to the king when Captain Husk himself stepped briskly from the chamber. Urchin jumped back in alarm, then tried not to be frightened.
“You’re Padra’s page, aren’t you?” said Husk. “Fetch wine from the cellar. Bring it straight here.”
“Y-yes, sir,” said Urchin. “What kind, sir?”
“Tell the otter in charge of the cellar it’s for the king,” said Husk. “He’ll know what to send. Quickly, now!”
Glad to escape, Urchin ran down to the wide, airy cellar and collected the wine—“we seem to be going through a lot of this just now,” remarked the cellar otter as he handed over the bottle—and hurried back up again. Ahead of him, a squirrel who looked very much like Gleaner dashed across and jumped from a window, but so quickly that Urchin couldn’t be quite sure who it was. He arrived at the Throne Room door a little breathless, was let in by the moles, and waited by the door as Padra had taught him.
Bottle in paws, he watched, remembering Padra’s instructions. Since the prince’s death the king seemed to have grown old—tired, and gray at the
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