Read Online The Robe of Skulls by Vivian French - Free Book Online Page A

trot, and as Gubble fell off his donkey with increasing regularity, she reached the gates of the Royal Palace well ahead of him. To her extreme surprise and annoyance, she saw that Foyce Undershaft was there before her. Foyce was sitting on the knee of one soldier and smiling sweetly into the adoring eyes of another. Lady Lamorna would have been even more annoyed had she been able to hear what Foyce was saying.
    “
Such
a big, muddy green-faced troll,” she was lisping. “And it chased me all the way from Gorebreath! But now I know I’m safe, because you brave soldiers would
never
let such a horrid thing near the dear Royal Family, would you?”
    “Never!” promised the soldiers. “Never ever!”
    “Thank you,” Foyce whispered coyly. Her business done, she jumped up and ran to meet the old sorceress. “Why, Granny Bones!” she called in her silvery voice. “How
lovely
to see you! Are you coming to the royal party? Shall we go together?” And she skipped toward Lady Lamorna in a cute and girlish way.
    The soldiers at the gates immediately fell even more deeply in love with her, but Lady Lamorna could see the calculating look in Foyce’s big blue eyes.
    You don’t fool me with that act of yours,
she thought, and was about to brush Foyce to one side and ride through the gates when there was the clatter of galloping hooves and Gubble appeared in a cloud of dust.
    “Help me, Evilness — help me!” he yelled — and flew past the gates, on down the road, and out of sight.
    The soldiers immediately leaped to attention and swung the gates shut with a mighty clang. “Full alert!” barked the colonel-in-charge. “’Ten
shun
! Troll sighted!”
    Foyce watched the closing gates with a cool smile and turned to the furious and frustrated Lady Lamorna. “I would have thought such an important person as yourself would have had a servant with — shall we say — more skills than a mere troll?” Foyce said. “Might I offer my services? I think you might find me very . . . useful.” When she received no answer, Foyce twirled her fingers into Figs’s mane. At once the donkey moaned and shivered.
    Lady Lamorna had been secretly reaching for her leather purse, but now she paused to stare thoughtfully at Foyce. “And why might that be?” she asked.
    “I have a way with animals,” Foyce said sweetly. “And”— she indicated the soldiers, who were marching up and down behind the gates with a great deal of impressive foot stomping —“with men. But I don’t wish to inconvenience Your Evilness. I want to benefit us both.” And she led the quivering Figs to the far side of the road, where there was a comfortable bench provided for the aged of Dreghorn on their way back from market.
    Lady Lamorna dismounted and sat down, her mind whirling. She was uncomfortably aware that her disguise had not been a success. Perhaps she was getting old and did need help. Human beings were so much more trouble than she remembered. Had it not been for her urgent need for gold, and plenty of it, she would happily have retreated to her castle that very moment . . . but her dress was ordered! And the Ancient Crones might take terrible revenge if she failed to pay her debts. Besides, she wanted that dress badly.
Very
badly.
    Lady Lamorna looked slyly at Foyce. Could they work together? The girl certainly seemed able to charm her way wherever she wanted. But could she be trusted?
    Foyce knew exactly what Lady Lamorna was thinking. She could smell her weariness and greed and suspicion, and she gave a tinkling laugh. “Trust is always such a problem, isn’t it? Let me tell you what I know about you, and then I will tell you something about me that no one else knows.” She paused. “You can use it against me if you need to.”
    Lady Lamorna leaned back against the bench. This girl was even cleverer than she had thought. “Go on,” she said.
    Foyce ticked off the points on her fingers as she spoke. “
One:
you are looking for