Read Online The Whisperer by Fiona McIntosh - Free Book Online Page B

thank Lambert?’ Lute murmured as they moved away from the chamber.
    ‘In case your mother forgets to, you mean?’ Pilo said, striding so quickly that Lute had to hurry to keep up.
    ‘She won’t forget,’ Lute assured.
    ‘That’s my point. I think you were wondering if there were any stickycakes going begging.’
    Lute grinned. He’d been found out. ‘Well, you made me leave before they were served.’
    Pilo gave a soft sigh that said it was alright to go via the kitchens. Inside the cavernous wing at ground level of the palace there was a soft warm fug of food smells and people’s toil. A vast assortment of servants was fetching, carrying, cleaning, tidying.
    Lambert spotted the young Prince and clapped his hands furiously to get everyone’s attention. The kitchen staff bowed, welcoming Lute.
    ‘I didn’t mean to interrupt your work, Master Lambert. I’ve just excused myself from the banquet but I wanted to quickly thank you and all the people in the kitchen for the magnificent meal that was served tonight.’
    Lambert beamed, his face cherry-red from his hot exertions while his staff cheered and whistled their approval, not just of their chief’s cooking prowess but mostly for the Prince’s thoughtfulness at paying a visit.
    ‘Thank you, majesty. That’s most kind of you,’ Lambert said, his huge body skipping up on light feet to bow with an almost feminine grace. ‘But you leave before the sweet courses.’
    ‘I must, I’m afraid,’ Lute said, contriving an expression of deep disappointment. ‘Duty calls. I must be up before the larktomorrow to ride with the Duke, and Pilo here thought it best if I withdrew now…er, before the final courses.’
    ‘Oh, but my prince, Sarah’s made stickycakes in your honour that are just dripping with honey from the royal hives. You can’t miss those,’ Lambert said, all his chins wobbling.
    Lute shrugged, contriving misery, not daring to look at Pilo. ‘I’m sorry, Lambert.’
    ‘Well, majesty, we cannot ignore your duty, but do let me have a plate of them sent up to your chamber with some warmed sweetened milk.’
    ‘Sweet dreams indeed,’ Pilo said and Lute nudged him to remain silent.
    ‘That would be most acceptable, Master Lambert,’ Lute said. ‘Thank you.’
    Later, dressed for bed but on his private balcony munching on the cakes sandwiched with thick cream and dripping butterscotch and honey, Lute opened his thoughts to Pilo.
    ‘My mother’s worried about something.’
    ‘Is she?’ Pilo replied, distracted, scanning the city, gently lit by twinkling torches.
    ‘Pilo, don’t play dumb. I know that you notice everything, even if you don’t want anyone to know that. What are you looking for out there?’
    ‘Nothing,’ Pilo replied, although his eyes never stopped searching.
    ‘So now you’re behaving strangely as well. And what’s all that about tasting my food. You’ve never done that before.’ He was onto his second cake.
    ‘It was an excuse. I was hungry.’
    Lute made a scoffing sound. ‘Rubbish! You never eat. I think you exist on air.’
    ‘It’s simply something your parents would like to introduce.’
    ‘Food tasting?’ Lute asked, incredulously. ‘You jest.’
    The man looked around and shook his head.
    ‘But why should you die of poison?’ he asked, reaching for another delectable cake.
    ‘Ah, and there’s the great divide between royals and servants.’
    ‘Pilo, stop. Be as direct as you normally are. What’s going on?’
    ‘Absolutely nothing that should concern you. We will now have food tasters for the King and heir. We’re just taking some new precautions.’
    ‘Against what?’
    ‘Treachery, the usual thing against royals.’
    It reminded Lute of the soldier’s comment. ‘Who?’
    ‘You never know,’ Pilo answered. ‘As I said, just a few precautions.’
    Lute was not satisfied with the answer. He frowned in confusion, his cake half-eaten. ‘So why is my mother acting so strangely?’
    ‘I think