The Palace Library by Steven Loveridge Page B

but
nothing happened.
    “It
was worth a try, Eleanor,” said Harry.  “I think Grandpa would have liked
that.”
    They
moved quietly away from the church, a little disappointed by the lack of
magic.  What they would never know is that a beautiful lavender plant
emerged there the following June.  The priest would never know how it came
to be there, but he tended it anyway.

 
14.  The Saint George
     
    The smell assaulted the noses of
the three children when they first boarded the boat.  They were glad of
their little leaving gift from Anwen; three little cloth bags full of scented
herbs.  Now they knew what they were for.  Even Harry, who thought it
was a bit girly, held the bag to his nose to disguise the horrid smells. 
There was the smell of raw sewage, which hung over the air alongside the smell
of sweaty bodies.  Then there was the rotting offal from the abattoir that
stood by the quayside to supply the ships with meat.  They weren’t even
sure that the smell of Purple Bane or Dragons’ Bane scratched from Eleanor’s
book might not be better.  Poor Sophie with her sensitive nose didn’t have
a cloth bag, but Eleanor sat down with her from time to time and shared her
own.  The deerhound breathed in the scent of the cloth bag deeply through
her nose before lying down again and panting through her mouth to avoid the
nauseous smells going up her nostrils.
    The
children were standing right up on the poop deck at the back of the boat - or
the stern, as they soon learned to call it.  There had been tears from the
girls when they said goodbye to Master John and Anwen on the quayside. 
Even Harry had been very silent and upright when he shook Master John’s hand,
feeling little wells of water forming in the corner of his eyes.
    Edwin
was down on the main deck, organising his tools and belongings to his own
satisfaction.  Eloise was below the decks, making up the Captain’s cabin,
which had been handed over to Eleanor, Grace and Eloise for the journey. 
Harry was to sleep in a hammock in a tiny cabin with Edwin, while the Captain
would make do with a cot in his chart room.  But these were all places of
supreme comfort compared to rest of the crew, who simply had to find a space to
hang a hammock anywhere they could, sometimes on the open deck.
    If
Harry had been asked to describe how the Captain of the King’s flagship might
have looked, he might have imagined a man in a long blue coat with gold braid
and smart white trousers.  But the man who had welcomed them aboard looked
more like a pirate than the captain of his imagination.  A hook and a
parrot on the shoulder would not have seemed strange.
    “I
don’t like the look of the Captain,” said Eleanor.  “His eyes never seem
to stay still.  They look around the place all the time.”
    “I
don’t know how we can tell,” said Harry.  “He seems to be doing so much
all at once getting ready to leave.”  Harry had had the sense to show the
Captain the Queen’s signet ring at once when they arrived.  They had been
expected and there was little trouble getting on board.
    “Once
we are underway down the river with the oars, you can tell me our destination
and we will plot a course.  We must leave within an hour with the ebb of
the high tide.”  These were just about the only words the Captain had
uttered to them when they arrived.
    “I
tell you who I really don’t like,” confided Eleanor.  “It’s Guy of
Caen.  He came aboard just as we were leaving.  He looked all
self-important and well-dressed in the wrong sort of way with all that dark
black.  He had nasty tight lips.  The Captain didn’t seem that
pleased to see him either.  And he smells funny.”
    “What
do you mean smells funny?  It’s not as if anyone around here exactly
smells nice.  I don’t think anyone washes in 1164,” said Harry. 
“Give us a few more days and we won’t be smelling that nice.  Mind you, he
did have terrible breath when I first came