The first thing Finn noticed was the table. It was painted a shade of creamy white. Not black as it was the day before. Closer, he realized that it wasn't painted, but merely scraped clean.
Beside him, Letitia drew a breath, dazzled by the sight before her eyes. There were truffles, pickles, cheeses of every sort. Steamy roasted potatoes split down the middle with a buttery lake inside. Fish grilled crispy brown, fragrant with a lemony sauce.
And greens, to Letitia's great pleasure. Crispy, leafy treats of a color she'd nearly forgotten. Even the dishes were whole, and the vessels made of glass.
“I have to say,” Letitia said, “in spite of my intense dislike for you, I must say this is a stunning feast you've set before us this day. Don't you think so, dear?”
“I expect it's ill-mannered to ask, but do I have your word nothing here is laced with deadly herbs or drugs? No foul or septic powders, no poison of any sort?”
Sabatino looked hurt. “Of course not. If I'd not already called you out, I would do so again.”
“Is that a yes or no?”
“You may trade plates with me if you like.”
“Oh, no you don't,” Finn said, with a sly and knowing grin. “That's just what you'd do, isn't it? You're ready for that, you'd expect me to ask.”
“Eat, Finn, it's delicious.” Letitia stabbed a bite of vinegar greens, savored it a moment, closing her eyes in delight.
“Oh, my, that fish looks divine. I shouldn't, but I simply have to try.”
“I don't sense any virulence in the air,” Julia said from Finn's shoulder. “Of course, there could be something I've never sniffed before. There are things I can't detect at all.”
“I'm stunned to hear it,” Finn said, wrinkling his nose at the fish, risking a tiny bite.
“What concerns me more is why you're doing this? You have some reason, Sabatino, and I doubt it's too obscure.”
“You're quite right, of course. And you as well, dear lady. There is no need to mask our loathing for one another, it makes for a most unpleasant meal. Oh, and I must say you look enchanting. That gown fits you well.”
“I'd rather you didn't, but thanks all the same.”
The gown was quite nice, an enchanting shade of blue, and it certainly fit, Sabatino had seen to that. If Letitia hadn't done hasty work with pins, she'd be naked to the waist.
“You didn't cook the meal,” Finn said. “I doubt you made the dress. This crockery is whole, everything's clean …”
Sabatino wagged a finger at Finn. “You're such a curious fellow, I knew you'd have to ask. Not a healthy trait, I might add. There's a place I go for ale now and then, TAVERN,as it's called. Some people go to BAR-I wouldn't be caught in there, of course.”
“Neither would I.”
“No, you would not. At any rate, the food was prepared by the keeper's wife. The gown is her daughter's. If you could see the wife, you'd know it wasn't hers.”
“And what's it all for? You never got to that.”
Sabatino held his glass up to the light. It wasn't turnip wine, but he didn't seem to mind.
“My father is mentally impaired. Poor fellow gets daffier by the day. I should have taken action before. I've put up with his madness, but I cannot afford to indulge him anymore.”
Letitia raised a brow. “He won't be joining us, then?”
“Very astute, miss. No, he will not.” Sabatino spoke in warm and earnest tones as if he were gathered with family and friends.
“He is obsessed with that outrageous folly in the cellar. I can't say whether this nonsense warped his mind, or whether he was bonkers all along. It hardly matters now. I've put an end to that before we end up in the street. He has poured his last coin-and mine-down the drain.”
“I see,” Finn said, trying to catch the man's ever-shifting eyes, hoping a glimmer of truth might leak through the barricade of lies. For, no matter what Sabatino said, Finn was certain he could not avoid deceit for more than a minute at a time.
Sabatino faced him, then, with a most sincere and artless smile as if he'd guessed Finn's thoughts all along.
“You and this charming lady can be grateful to me, Finn, have no doubt of that. Surely you guessed Father lied, that if, somehow you failed to return, he would give Letitia safety here, that I was the villain all along? He said I'd set a trap for Master Finn, did he not, my dear? When he came with that false and deadly offer to aid him in his folly down below?
“Yes, I know about that,” he said, catching Letitia's surprise. “I know a great deal. I have this shameful hobby of listening at doors.”
Sabatino's eyes glittered with specks of gold in the flickering candlelight. “Oh, I know some other things, too, things I'd never tell …”
Whatever those things might be, Finn didn't want to hear.
“You'd have us believe you didn't set the trap?”
“Certainly not. There are easier ways to dispose of you, sir. And there's clearly no honor in such a device. Did you not detect the inventor's weakness for pulleys, ropes and such, for the needlessly complex? I should think you would, a craftsman like yourself.”
“Your father told me it was you,” Letitia began, “so I would think …”
“… So you would see him as your savior after I supposedly murdered Finn. He sent Squeen William out to get the lizard, and the wretched fellow caught himself in Father's trap.”
Sabatino paused, studied the ring on his finger, watching it catch the light. The stone was a brilliant green, the size of a lump of coal. And worth about as much, Finn knew, for he had some knowledge of precious stones.
“I am supposed to be the rogue here and I won't deny that. But what do you think would happen, miss, if you fell into Father's hands? He is mad, and likely to grow madder still.
“I can see the question you're burning to ask, Master Finn,” Sabatino said, waving his hand in disdain. “What now, that you must deal with me, and not a witless old man?”
“In truth, we had no intention of dealing with you at all,” Finn said. “As long as I can wield a blade, we'll decide our own fate. It has little to do with you.”
Sabatino tried to hide his chagrin. “You face many dangers outside this house, I trust you're not ignorant of that. I am trying to be your friend whether you're blind to that or not.”
“What you're doing is overthrowing your father. Any good that comes to us is accidental at best-”
“We've made our own plans, anyway,” Letitia broke in, “we don't need any help from you.”
“Letitia …” Finn nearly came out of his seat, but it was useless to stop her now.
“Forgive me for speaking up, dear. The more I think about it, the more foolish it seems to be less than open here. If he truly has our interests in mind, he'll be glad to rid himself of one more complication in his life.”
She turned then to Sabatino, with a bold, most determined eye.
“We are leaving, sir. Between sundown and dark. We will travel inland, and trust we will find safety there. You have already provided us with clothing and an excellent meal. If you wish to prove your concern, perhaps you'll draw us a map of some kind, and give us any extra provisions you can spare …”
For a moment, Sabatino looked bewildered, astonished, as if Letitia had spoken in some strange and alien tongue. Then his cheeks puffed out in an explosion of laughter. He threw back his head in hearty guffaws, scarcely able to contain himself at all.
And Finn, who knew this rascal had seldom been caught in unthinking emotion, no more than an actor on the stage, wondered what this performance was about. Likely, he decided, to give the fellow time to think of what to say next. In the meantime, Finn had the chance to consider why Letitia had spilled the goods, and decided she was very probably right after all.
“Forgive me, please,” Sabatino said, exhausted by this clownish display. “The thing is, you see-and I doubt you'll credit this-that is exactly what I had in mind myself. I do have a plate full of trouble on my hands, with Father and all, and I would like you out of my way.”
“And we're supposed to swallow that?” Finn shook his head. “No matter, we'll soon be gone, so we'll both be quite satisfied.”
“Excellent!” Sabatino drew back his chair and stood. “If you'll wait in your room, I'll see to the needs of your journey. I'm sorry we'll miss our duel, sir. Life keeps getting in pleasure's way.”
He showed them both a weary smile. “As you might imagine, my father's not taking his-new position too well. Even those who are not old, useless and insane, do not like to yield up authority they have taken for granted so long. But, damn his rotten eyes, he must do as I will it, now.”
“Is he all right, then, he's not-”
Letitia, aghast at what she'd said, and almost said as well, looked down and studied her hands as if she'd discovered an extra finger there.
Sabatino's glacial stare was real; he was not the actor now. “Squeen William, get out here,” he said, without taking his eyes from Letitia Louise, “get out here, you scum, and show these people back to their room …”
Finn, quite aware of the enmity Letitia had aroused, had his fingers on the hilt of his sword until Sabatino was gone, out of the room, through the entryway, and out the front door.
“I bes takin' you upstairsss no. Bes coming with me, pleassse?”
Letitia clasped her hand across her mouth, holding back her sudden fright. Squeen William was a disaster from head to toe, a creature covered with bruises, cuts and sores. Frayed, frazzled, broken and lame, beat-up and maimed. Bandaged in tatters, wrapped in dirty rags, and rather severely impaired.
“Squeen William,” Letitia asked, knowing at once it was a foolish thing to say, “are you all right, can you get up the stairs?”
“Squeen William bes fine, misssy. Isss very kind of you to asssssk …”