Monstrous Races Page 11

  The twin delights of mints and crunchy pigs’ ears

  Rufus and Elli sat in the carriage on the way home rocking to the movements of the horses pulling them along. Rufus made a close approximation of whistling a jaunty tune for most of the journey, whilst Elli stared out of a window streaked with greasy marks. At their feet sat two large bags made of heavy green fabric.

  'I didn't know they had it in them,' said Rufus finally, looking down at the bags and smiling wolfishly. 'They're even more skilful than I thought.'

  'I don't wish to discuss it,' Elli said very deliberately, still staring out of the window. She sat upright in her seat, her foot occasionally kicking the bag.

  'If you ask me it's an improvement, I've never seen you look so good,' he said, grinning so widely now that all of his back-teeth were making a rare appearance. She looked across at him mustering the sternest look she could, her eyes narrowing.

  'Funny,' she said archly, both eyebrows raised. Rufus sank into his seat and resumed his whistling, his feet resting on the threadbare seat opposite him.

  'That's Max for you, always one step ahead. You've got to hand it to him.' Elli steadfastly ignored him, wiping the window to get a better view but succeeding only in smearing the dirt over a larger surface area.

  They passed tall teetering buildings leaning in towards one another, and she marvelled at how so little light filtered down into the noisy, dusty streets. Young children scampered around horses, carts and stalls, and they soon reached an outdoor market where Rufus held his nose and looked away to avoid temptation. The shining produce and delicious fare changed into wider roads where the more affluent lived. Elli noted the cleaner houses and personal stables, where trees grew like miracles from the kerbsides. Rufus resumed his whistling and pulled down his window.

  'I went out with a girl who lived around here once,' he said, fishing in his trouser pocket to produce an orange and proceeding to peel it daintily. 'Lovely girl but awful feet. Max was delighted while it lasted of course, I found him doodling a coat of arms in preparation for the big day. Jennifer..or Juliet..or something like that, it began with a J anyway. Her father wasn't overly keen on me for some reason.' Elli raised an eyebrow and smirked at him. 'What?' he asked, fishing around in his pocket for another orange and flinging it at her.

  'Anyway, her Father paid for a round-the-world ticket in luxury accommodation for me on the proviso that I leave Jasmine or whatever her name was. Turns out she was more interesting than I gave her credit for; she found the ticket on his desk the next morning and packed her bags. By the time he'd realised what had happened she'd gone. She wrote me a very nice note about finding herself or something. She found a bit more than that, settled down in Aldostria with a herdsman, and good luck to her,' he said, flicking the peel out of the window. 'Lucky escape I call it.'

  'So are you ever going to meet Miss Right then Rufus?' she asked mischievously. He grinned and tapped the side of his nose.

  'Who's to say I haven't already?' he asked, licking his fingers and wiping his muzzle with the back of his hand.

  'Lucky lady,' replied Elli under her breath. 'Oh and by the way, I've worked out where our protectors are now,' she added with a satisfied smile. 'It's the two out there isn't it, driving the coach.'

  'There are three actually.'

  'Oh, well then one's clinging onto the back or something.'

  'Not quite, there are two up there for one thing,' said Rufus, pointing to the ceiling of the coach.

  'Up there?' asked Elli, staring wide-eyed at the roof of the carriage. 'But how small are they?' Rufus sighed and shook his head.

  'Did that bump on the head do more damage than I thought? Look up out of your window and wait, you'll be lucky if you get a glimpse,' he muttered, yawning and closing his eyes. Elli poked her head out of the window and looked up at the heavy clouds. She saw nothing unusual for some time and was about to give up when she caught a flash of white searing through the sky, its magnificent wings outstretched. She pulled up the window and turned back to Rufus.

  'Was that Barry on the Ethiopian Pegasus?' she asked, still astounded by the sight of the majestic white horse with huge outstretched wings. He nodded, his eyes still closed. 'So who's the other one?' She looked across at Rufus who was sound asleep with his large pink tongue hanging untidily out of the corner of his mouth, his breathing deep and regular. She watched again but saw nothing else of interest in the sky, and was soon dozing opposite Rufus on the way home.

  Lord Lansdown yawned and stretched out his arms, his fingers fully extended. He sat back on his chair, placing his thumb and forefinger into the corners of his eyes and rubbing them gently. Around him open notebooks and letters lay discarded; he sat like this for some time, mulling things over. They'd been chasing the girl for weeks now, but different sightings and conflicting information was arriving every day. According to these letters she was in at least eighteen different places spread out over many miles; he was beginning to wonder whether the large rewards he'd offered had not been perhaps a little hasty, as it would seem that some people would do anything for money.

  He sniffed sadly, picking up the one nearest to him with his nails (who knew what you could catch from the cheapest paper, written in the poorest hand?) and read it silently, before slowly scrunching it up into a ball and flinging it across the room. Yet another waste of time. What did these people think he was? They obviously had no idea who they were trying to fool.

  In a fit of anger he stomped across the room, his footsteps smashing down onto the floorboards and picked up the crumpled ball, smoothing it out and adding it back to the pile. When he was King he might well send some of his men to pay them a little visit, make them sorry for wasting his time. They'd all enclosed their details for payment of the reward money after all. All except one.

  He sorted through them until he found the letter in question, written in a careful hand in green ink. This one was different, and gave him some details he'd be able to verify easily. Brayston. He'd heard of it dimly in his youth, but it had been beyond his travels and there had been little to recommend it. All manner of creatures living together within the walls, interacting as though there was no difference between them. He shuddered, picturing his men marching towards the walls with him as King, blasting the doors apart in his full livery as they all quaked in his mighty presence.

  The sound of a rattling, syrupy cough drifted in from the next room; I haven't seen her with me in my glorious future. Imagine that.

  He heard a knocking at his door and froze, quite prepared to hide in the wardrobe if his wife's voice had accompanied the knocking. 'Sir,' called out an old male voice, the youth grated away until a heavy rasping remained.

  'Come in,' he bellowed, placing the letters and notebooks into a neat pile once more. The door creaked open and an old man stood there with a nonchalant expression. Lord Lansdown looked up and stared at him, taking in the tired eyes and the slouch. He spoke slowly and very deliberately, his voice dripping with distaste.

  'Who on earth are you?' The man shuffled and looked around the room, absorbing the dark wood and glittering things in there.

  'Beg your pardon Sir,' he said, his head bowed very slightly more from an aching back than deference, 'I'm new. Your new man-servant.' He smiled revealing pink gums and a flurry of wrinkles, his eyes pale and watery.

  A geriatric man-servant for a future King? I hardly think so.' And who gave you that position?' Lord Lansdown asked the man, staring at him intently. 'I don't have much of a sense of humour you see.' He waited for a response but the old man stood motionless for some time.

  'What?' the man finally asked loudly, cupping his hand to his ear.

  'Who-gave-you-the role?' he bellowed, his face contorted into ever wider grimaces as he tried to enunciate every sound.

  'Oh, my nephew. Captain Briggs. Said you could use a good fellow like me, and the pay's good.' He fished out a large crumpled handkerchief from his top pocket and blew his nose loudly, much to Lord Lansdown's e
vident distaste. 'Course, I said I may be too old for this kind of thing at present, but he insisted I was the man for the job. Mint?' he asked, deftly replacing the handkerchief and its contents back into his pocket and taking out a crumpled paper bag instead.

  Lord Lansdown shook his head willing the man to disappear. The last thing he could afford to do was to upset Captain Briggs, a powerful presence for the men who followed his every word and who would undoubtedly lead him to victory. Without him they were a rabble; now he's moulding them into an army. But why this? The old man sucked noisily at his mint, rolling it around his mouth with a series of slurping noises and faces that reminded Lord Lansdown of gargoyles clinging to long-forgotten towers.

  'I take it you have...references,' he spluttered, his fingers stroking his neatly clipped beard as he pondered. A red flush had appeared on his neck over the tightly-buttoned tunic, contrasting with the magnificent white of the material.

  'Nope,' said the man cheerily, the mint still rattling against his gums and rolling around in the cavernous pink mouth. 'Never needed to. Where do you want me to start then Sir?' he asked, looking around at the magnificent room that Lord Lansdown had so recently procured in his usual way. Gilded mirrors hung heavy on the walls, and tapestries and paintings stood haphazardly as though competing for space.

  Lord Lansdown walked to the nearest window and looked out at the men undergoing training practice below him, a flurry of activity that was highly ordered with Captain Briggs at the forefront, barking out orders that were willingly obeyed. That man commands respect, the men would do anything for him. For me, he thought, eyes twinkling. It's plain I can't do without him at this current time. Instilling fear, however enjoyable, won't encourage loyalty. And I do so want them to be loyal. He clasped his hands behind his back and watched the intricate ballet of sword-practice, fatigued marching and the following of every command, the beginning of a smile on his lips.

  He turned around quickly, gasping at the incongruous sight of the pale old man in the middle of such opulence and vibrant colour. Eccentric on the part of Captain Briggs certainly, he really is something of a conundrum. 'Come this way. It's time to meet Lady Lansdown, you're just what she's looking for,' he said archly, glowering across at the wilting body and sagging flesh encased in clothes that looked as old as him. 'You'll be devoted entirely to her and it is imperative that you don't bother me. I have no need of a man-servant, but she most certainly does.' Of course, that's why he sent the old fool! A safe, deaf old man to assist her and give me some peace. The old man stood awkwardly, rooted to the spot.

  'Sir, I hope you don't mind me commenting, but I've seen your wife and she's a real beauty,' he said wistfully, a gummy smile on his pale lips. Lord Lansdown stared at him aghast, his jaw slowly dropping as though pulled by a string. 'Now don't get me wrong, I'm a man of the world and I can control myself, but I think I'd better warn you that people might talk if we spend all that time together, close like. It's up to you, but I wouldn't want there to be any um...awkwardness.'

  The words hung in the air between them as Lord Lansdown looked frantically for any hint of amusement in the old man's face, perhaps a subtle additional crease around the eyes or a smirk of some sort. The man stood solidly before him, his expression blank. So, deaf and blind, thought Lord Lansdown, I really must raise Captain Briggs' wages.

  'Thank you so much for your concern,' he replied adeptly, leading the man from the room. 'You'll make her a wonderful companion, you're just what I've been looking for. Do come this way..'

  The Jolly Sailor was a ramshackle inn with windows like blood-shot eyes, and Elli stood outside with Rufus shivering in the cold. The raucous noise and occasional smashed glass inside contrasted with the long shadows and worrying inactivity in the deserted street. Elli peered into the greying darkness, trying to make out any movement. 'So tell me, can you see anyone now?' she asked shivering. 'Anyone at all? Only it's freezing out here and all my extremities are feeling pretty extreme Rufus.'

  'Hmm,' he answered non-committally, his back to her as he peered through a tiny gap in the door. 'They're still there, he's buying her peanuts. Peanuts! For a lady like that. I'd have bought oysters, or at least whelks. But peanuts!'

  'Rufus!' she said, her voice determined and sharp with cold. 'Two questions. One, are we still being followed? Two, can we please go in? I can't wait out here all night just in case Josie sees you.' He looked around at her quickly, his back arched and his nose glistening in the half light. His ears pricked up and his expression changed, his head now tilted.

  Elli listened carefully, looking around her and trying to follow his gaze through the darkening street. When the sound came it took her unawares, a crashing, banging noise; she jumped straight into the doorway and behind Rufus. He sniffed and peered back through the warmly-lit chink of open door.

  'In answer to your questions; one, not anymore, and two, yes we can. They've gone towards the back so we need to head straight for the stairs.' He pulled his hat down low over his eyes and his coat tightly around him. 'The singing fur-ball mark two,' he said sadly, flinging open the door and walking through the boisterous crowd inside with long strides. Elli moved quickly behind him, weaving through ruddy faces and hunched shoulders.

  'Elli!' she heard, as a hand touched her shoulder. A male voice. She span around and looked up at Henry Yews, his blonde hair shining in the gloom.

  'Hello,' she said weakly, her eyes wide as she smiled up at him until her cheeks ached. His eyes held her gaze and dimly-lit lamps glittered all around him.

  'I thought I recognised you. Those nice ladies at Dion and Jones told me your name. So are you here to see the band?' he asked, his voice deep and clear like a cool well in a desert.

  'Looking forward to it!' she answered, suddenly sounding far too excitable. She cleared her throat and tried to ignore his sculpted cheekbones and broad shoulders, focusing instead on the crowd who bobbed and swayed all around them. He smiled and moved close towards her ear, his tomato juice poised between them.

  'Between us they're not very good, but I won't say if you don't,' he whispered, barely audible in the din. He smelled of fresh washing and sandalwood, and she felt him touch her arm. 'Can I get you a drink?' he asked, looking over at the crowd ducking and weaving through one another at the bar.

  'Sweetened water and crunchy pigs' ears please,' she said, realising simultaneously that her chance to appear sophisticated had disappeared into the alcohol-fuelled ether.

  'Crunchy pigs' ears. Now we're talking, haven't had those in ages. Shall I bring them on up? I think Captain McSniff are on soon, and your friend is looking for you.' She looked up at the stairs to see Rufus scanning the crowd, his collar pulled up around his face and his hat perched on his head so that his ears spilled out. He'd even managed to procure a scarf from somewhere which was wrapped tightly around his muzzle. She nodded weakly, watching as Rufus gestured wildly at a figure coming towards her.

  Josie bobbed through the moving figures, her alsation head alert and poised. Elli immediately ducked and crouched down, keeping her head low as she negotiated the living traffic towards the stairs. She moved swiftly through the sea of limbs and hair, avoiding spilt drinks and the crunch of miscellaneous items under her feet.

  'Hurt your back?' asked Josie, her brown eyes peering into Elli's. She sighed, long and languid, her alsation profile softer in the hazy light. 'So where is he then? Let's just get this over with.' Elli looked up at the stairs where all that remained of Rufus were two heeled brown leather boots standing together at the top of the stairs. 'Some things never change,' she said quietly, leading the way.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Whimpers, tears and a resolute quiff

  The lights were turned down low for Norman's entrance, and he appeared on the grimy stage as a small figure, licking his lips and looking inconsolably at the crowd. He was dressed in deep black, and his dark hair hung unwashed and unloved in the centre of his chest. His bandmate shuffled on shortly afterwards, a boy wit
h a constantly bobbing Adams apple and huge draping ears that he'd coiled around his arms, his flimsy guitar held like a shield in front of him.

  Norman grimaced, his skin pale and watery. 'Thanks for coming, we're Captain McSniff, I don't know why,' he mumbled, starting to sway. His band-mate began to play the guitar, slowly and delicately, and Norman sang; his voice was soft and pure, a cascading river that undulated and pulsed, sending shivers up Elli's spine. He soared with the music, standing in the middle of the stage and becoming something much more to her than Norman in a matter of seconds.

  'Hidden depths then,' whispered Henry, the faintest touch of his lips against her ear. She nodded slowly, nibbling at a corner of crunchy pig's ear as quietly as she could. She glanced over towards the side of the stage and just caught sight of Whaler, who quickly turned away and appeared to concentrate on something in the distance.

  'Excuse me for a minute,' she muttered, standing up from behind the table and edging her way out. She moved towards him but felt a gentle tug pulling at her arm and turned around to see Rufus, wide-eyed and keeping his voice low.

  'Help,' he whispered, close to pleading. 'I'm sitting between them, he insisted. He's breathing down my neck the entire time. Don't leave me,' he hissed, looking back over his shoulder quickly at the empty seat between Josie and the husky dog-head, his bright blue eyes watching Rufus carefully. 'He's the lightweight boxing champion of Brayston, part-time. And he doesn't seem keen on me, I'd quite like my limbs to remain on my body if you don't mind, so get over there with me. Is that wise by the way?' he asked, nodding over to Henry. Elli shrugged.

  'We're just talking,' she said in a loud whisper. 'He's here on his own and he recognised me. He seems nice,' she trailed off as Rufus raised one bushy eyebrow.

  'Yes, and so do thunderstorms until you get hit by one. Go careful,' he said, following her gaze to Whaler's back. 'Oh fantastic, suddenly my life doesn't seem so bad. After you heartbreaker, I'll keep blondie company shall I? You go and cheer up the lovelorn.' She rolled her eyes and walked towards Whaler, who was watching Norman intently from the side of the stage. He had his harpsichorgan slung across his body and she moved sheepishly towards him.