Read Online The Catswold Portal by Shirley Rousseau Murphy - Free Book Online Page A

dispossess Siddonie.
    Terlis said, “Everyone knows a commoner is more likely to breed a strong baby.”
    â€œBut,” Melissa said, “if she’s afraid of the king taking servant girls to bed, why does she bring them here at all?”
    â€œNo one knows.” Terlis looked hard at Melissa. “The queen brought you here just as she brought us all, and no one knows why. Maybe her spells made you start out on your own, maybe she made you think you were coming on your own, but you can be sure that Queen Siddonie brought you to Affandar Palace.”
    She knew Terlis was wrong, but she didn’t argue. What good to argue?
    Â 
    It was night when she found her chance to search further for the door to the cellars. She crept down from the attic after the other girls slept, and moved into the black shadows of the storeroom. Feeling her way along the shelves, her hand trailed over cloth bags of flour and jars of fruit, groping for the door that would lead down. She had tried for days to come in here, but there had always been people around. She knew that Briccha slept next to the storeroom, so she moved silently, but at last she brought a small spell-light—and froze.
    Briccha stood in the shadows, broader than ever in a voluminous nightgown. “I thought so. What are you doing here? What are you looking for?”
    â€œI was hungry. I came down for a slice of bread.”
    Briccha slapped her so hard she staggered against the shelves. “You don’t need bread. The bread is in the scullery. I don’t like nosiness. Nor does the queen. Get to bed.”
    For a week she didn’t go near the storeroom. But in that moment she had seen, behind Briccha, two doors. One was open into a sleeping chamber—she could see inside a rumpled bed and a wrinkled white uniform hanging on the wall. The other door looked heavier, more stoutly made, and it was closed.
    Convinced that was the door to the cellars, she waited until a morning when Briccha was in the vegetable gardens, then she approached it, slipping out of the scullery past the other girls, carrying an empty bowl as if she were going to fetch something. She hurried through the storeroom…
    And she came face-to-face with Briccha. The Scullery Mistress had slipped in by a side door. Briccha held Melissa’s arm with fingers like steel.
    â€œI don’t know what you’re up to, young woman. The queen knows you have been snooping. I’m surprised she hasn’t thrown you out or locked you up.” Briccha’s pinching fingers were bruising her, the broad woman stared into her face, but then, surprisingly, she released her. “You will not come here again. If you do, you will be eternally sorry. Now go fetch the prince’s breakfast up to him. The regular girl is sick.”
    Melissa moved away thankfully, amused that Briccha thought such threats would stop her. Briccha said behind her, “Don’t talk to Prince Wylles. And don’t wake him. Put the tray by his bed. Don’t wait for him to eat. He never eats.”
    Free of Briccha, she hurried up the two flights. The hot porridge and bacon steaming on the tray smelled so delicious it was hard not to sample the good food. She’d had only bread for breakfast. She felt no conscience about eating the prince’s breakfast if he didn’t, but she didn’t want to get caught.
    The upper hallway was lit by a jutting dormer window, with a pair of stone benches built into the recessed area, facing each other. She stepped into the deep bay, set the tray on a bench, and stood looking out through the glass.
    She could see part of the kitchen gardens, and cages of doves and captive game birds awaiting slaughter for thepalace table. The flutter of the birds behind the wire gave her a strange, excited urge. And there were cages of tiny birds, too, bright birds which were roasted with wine exclusively for the queen. She had heard Briccha call the birds