The Raven's Head Read Online Free PDF Page A

gathering herbs, for many had to be plucked at dawn with dew upon them or in moonlight when their potency was at its height.
    I tried the handle and found to my great relief it was not locked. Once inside, though, there was only the dim red glow from the damped-down fire to light the chamber and that wasn’t enough to be able to distinguish a mummified cat from a monkey’s paw, never mind one jar of seeds from another. I had no choice but to risk lighting a candle.
    It took me some time to search the shelves, even though all the pots and containers were labelled with crude drawings of the plants so that those who couldn’t read could identify the contents. But eventually I found a small pot containing goat-leaf seeds and hastily tipped the whole lot into the leather bag that Gaspard had thrust at me. The still-room maid was sure to miss them, for she’d never let any pot run empty, but with luck she wouldn’t discover the theft for a few days.
    I had just replaced the empty container on the shelf when the door creaked open behind me. As I whirled round, both I and the woman in the doorway gave a squeak of surprise. It was Amée! My face burned as hot as a baker’s oven. The early-morning light cast a halo round her loose flaxen curls. I’d never been so close to her before and, in spite of praying ceaselessly for a moment like this, now that it had happened I found myself gawping at her like the village mooncalf.
    ‘I saw the candle,’ she said. ‘I thought Meli was in here. Who are you?’
    I bowed low, knocking several pots with my bag as I did so. I lunged wildly at them to steady them before they crashed to the floor. Amée giggled and I knew even my ears had turned scarlet. This was not how I had pictured our meeting. My first and possibly my only chance ever to impress her, and here I was, floundering around like a cow on ice.
    I took a step forward and bowed again, taking care not to knock against anything else.
    ‘Vincent, Comtesse, apprentice to Gaspard the scribe.’
    She was trying unsuccessfully to suppress a grin and I suddenly realised how dishevelled I must look, having been dragged from my bed without time even to wash my face or comb my hair.
    ‘So what is an apprentice scribe doing in a still room?’ she asked.
    ‘I, too, came looking for Meli. I need physic for my master, Gaspard.’
    At once her face was all concern. ‘He’s not sick, is he? My father is depending on him. Perhaps I should come and see.’
    ‘No, Comtesse. It’s . . . it’s only a touch of indigestion. He’s been working late, missing meals.’
    ‘For my father, I know,’ she said, frowning. ‘I’ll see that good meat is sent up to tempt his appetite and you must see that he eats it. He mustn’t make himself ill. We desperately need his services. My mother is fretting so much, it has brought on one of her dreadful headaches. She’s sent me to ask Meli to prepare an unguent to rub on her temples. But I know the only thing that will really help is for this terrible anxiety to be lifted. Has Gaspard discovered anything yet?’
    I hesitated. I knew he hadn’t – at least, I was pretty sure he hadn’t. But I couldn’t tell Amée that. I wanted to be her hero and I’d hardly be that if I brought her bad news.
    ‘I think he might have found something, Comtesse,’ I said. ‘But please don’t tell Monsieur le Comte yet, in case it proves false.’
    Her face broke into such a glorious smile, it made my groin throb and my knee tremble. She was a beauty.
    ‘Does he seem encouraged, though?’ she asked eagerly.
    Gaspard seemed completely moon-crazed, that’s what he seemed, but I wasn’t about to say that.
    If only I could find the lost document, whatever it was, before he did . . . I pictured Amée flinging her soft little arms about my neck in gratitude and planting a dozen kisses on my mouth, her father insisting on bestowing his daughter’s hand on me in abject gratitude.
    Yes, all right, I knew that was never