She was aware, too, of Rufus Pinch peering out at her from various hiding places, a spy without spy skills. It didn’t seem to bother Thom, who appeared unaware of the wizened face and furtive movements of the little man. Thom just worked along as if nothing unusual was happening, humming to himself, sparing Mistaya an occasional look, but saying nothing. She found herself increasingly irritated with him, too. She wanted him to acknowledge what was going on instead of acting as if he were oblivious. But Thom never once said a word or even gave her one of those conspiratorial looks that he had shared with her yesterday.
Then, just when her patience was nearly exhausted, he leaned forward suddenly and whispered, “Had enough, little sister? Let’s go somewhere they can’t spy on us.”
He took her to the kitchen to gather up bread, meat, cheese, and cups of cold well water for their lunch, then walked her out again and down a hallway to a huge old stone stairway that climbed into gloom and a flutter of bat wings.
“Up there?” she asked doubtfully.
He laughed. “Don’t worry. It’s safe enough once we’re at the top. And we can lock the door when we get there.”
She followed him up, ascending the tower steps in steady progression, counting until she lost interest. Slits cut into the walls allowed for just enough light to find the way but not enough to chase the gloom. The bats clung to the walls here and there in shadowy communities, but she couldn’t quite decide how they got in since the slits seemed too narrow. It wasn’t until she neared the top and the light brightened that she saw barred window openings in the upper reaches of the tower flanking a heavy ironbound door that sat at the apex of the stairs.
Thom reached the door, lifted the latch, and pushed. The door opened with a creaking of metal fastenings, and sunlight poured through in a bright gray wash.
Once through the opening, they were outside the castle, elevated on a battlement that gave a 360-degree view of the countryside beyond. Mistaya could see for miles, even though the day was hazy and the lake country mists snaked through the forests to coil in pools in the vales and deeps. She could see the dark flanks of the mountains south and west, and father north the deep emerald of the Greensward.
She even thought she caught a momentary glimpse of Sterling Silver’s bright gleam through the drifting haze.
“What do you think?” Thom asked her, and she gave him a broad grin.
They sat facing each other on a bench at the edge of the battlement, their food and drink settled between them, the sweep of the countryside visible through notches in the ancient stone. It seemed to Mistaya that the battlement had been constructed not so much for defensive as for architectural purposes, and she didn’t think it was ever intended for Libiris to be defended against an attacker.
“There really is a throw latch on the door,” Thom advised with a wink, “and I threw it. Rufus will have to find something else to do with himself until lunch is over.”
“Why is he spying on us, anyway?” she wanted to know.
Thom shrugged. “Hard to say. I’m sure he has his reasons. It’s not just you. He watches me, too. Not all the time, but now and then. I think he does it to feel like he’s in control of things. Nominally, he’s in charge of my work. Practically, he doesn’t have any idea at all how I go about it. The Throg Monkeys don’t listen to him, either.”
“The Throg Monkeys are just plain creepy. I wish we had some other help we could call on.”
“I wish that, too. I wish we could do more to put the library back to where it once was. Have you bothered to look at those books you’re cataloging? Some of them are wonderful, filled with useful information and strange stories. I love looking at them.”
“I would love it better if Pinch wasn’t watching all the time.” She gave him a look. “I guess I haven’t paid much attention to what’s in the books. If they’re so useful, why isn’t anyone reading them?”
He shrugged anew. “People haven’t come here in decades. Not since before you and I were born. Most don’t even know about the library. As a matter of fact, most don’t even read. They’ve forgotten how or don’t take the time. They have all they can do to keep food on the table. Life isn’t easy for most living here in Landover. They have to work very hard.”
She frowned, aware that she hadn’t given the matter much thought. “I suppose that’s true.”
He didn’t say anything more for a moment, munching solemnly on his food as he looked out across the countryside. “When I come up here, I like to pretend that all the lands, for as far as I can see, belong to me, and I can do whatever I want with them.”
She laughed. “What would you do, if you had the chance?”
“Oh, that’s easy. I’d give them away.”
“Give them away? To whom?”
To all those people we’ve been talking about. Most Landoverians living in the Greensward have to work for the Lords because the Lords hold title to all the land. Half of what they farm or earn or forage belongs to their masters. They owe allegiance in case of war. They owe fealty oaths of all sorts. They really don’t have anything that they can call their own. I’d give them the land.”
She nodded, thinking. “Hasn’t the King thought of this? I heard he made a lot of changes in the old feudal system.”
“He did. More than any King before him. He’s done a lot of good. But he can only do so much. If he tried to take the land away from the Lords of the Greensward, there would be a war. Only the Lords can give away their own land.”
“But doesn’t the King own this land?” she pressed, gesturing at their immediate surroundings. “Isn’t Libiris his?”
“Libiris is his, but the land isn’t. As a matter of fact, title to this particular piece of land is held jointly by the Lords and the River Master. It took years for them to agree on using even this small piece to build Libiris. I don’t think they’ve ever agreed on anything since.”
“Maybe they could be persuaded to do more,” she said.
He laughed. “Why don’t you be the one to persuade them, then? A girl who talked with the dragon Strabo and lived to tell about it should be able to deal with mere mortals!”
“Maybe the King could do something,” she suggested impulsively.
He gave her a look. “You know, I was once inside the castle and saw the King.”
She felt her throat tighten. “How did that happen?”
“I was with a group of boys carrying baggage for one of the Lords. So I was allowed inside for a bit, and I saw the King and his Queen. I even saw their little girl.”
She nodded slowly, measuring his look. “How long ago was this?”
“Quite a while. I don’t remember a lot about it. I was just a boy. The little girl was just a child. She would be older now. Your age, maybe.” He grinned. “But she wouldn’t be nearly so interesting or pretty as you are, I bet.”
She was suddenly anxious to change the topic of conversation. “Tell me the rest of how you ended up being sent here as an indentured servant.”
He finished the last of his bread and meat and washed it down with several swallows of water. “As I recall, the bargain was that you were supposed to tell me something interesting about yourself first. Something other than that story about you and the dragon.”
“That wasn’t a bargain I made. That was your condition for finishing the story—a very unfair condition, I might add.”
He thought about it. “All right, maybe it was. If I finish the story, will you tell me something else about yourself afterward?”