Free The Wilful Eye by Isobelle Carmody Page B

kiss a piece of rotten meat, but she forced herself not to recoil as the king stepped forward and pressed his mouth to hers. Unlike his hands, his lips were hot. She trembled, but he did not violate her. He stepped back and though his eyes glowed with lust, he said softly, ‘All in good time. Pleasure delayed is deeper and darker. Have you ever heard that saying out there on your farm where you walk barefoot in cow dung and chew on a straw?’ He gave her a bright curious look as if for a moment he wondered who she was and what she did when he was not terrorising her.
    â€˜What would you have me do until night, your majesty?’ asked Moth woodenly.
    â€˜Why, you will eat and drink and lie abed here and contemplate your future.’
    After the king had gone out and locked the door behind him, Moth went to the panther pelt, but its eyes were lifeless as jet beads. Had she imagined it talking to her, she wondered. A servant brought some food and she ate and then later, water and a bath were brought, and perfumed oils. Moth splashed her face and washed her feet and hands but she would not undress here. She lay for a time on the bed, but it was too soft and made her back ache. In the middle of the afternoon, she was sitting on the footstool gazing into the fire and wondering what her task might be that night, thinking of the strange little man who had appeared. A trail of servants entered carrying more bales of straw, until thirty were lined up along the wall and the room smelled like a barn.
    The king came just before dusk.
    â€˜Tonight, your task is to weave that into gold, clever little spinner, but mind you have it done by dawn.’ The king came over to her and stood close enough that she had to crane her neck to look at him. His eyes were greedy, eating up the dismay she could not hide.
    â€˜I will try,’ she said, for she must say something.
    â€˜Little Moth, you fly ever closer to the flame,’ he whispered. Moth said nothing but it seemed to her that she saw tiny flames flickering in his black eyes.
    After the king had gone out again, she paced back and forth, willing the little man to come again, but just as the sun was setting the panther opened its eyes. She was so glad to hear it that she wept as she told it what she must do.
    â€˜This is very strange. I saw no one enter but the king, but then I can only see and hear for the brief time when night and day overlap. Your little man must have come outside that time. But what does he want with a golden finger ring if he can spin straw into gold? And what sort of creature is he that appears here without fear of the king? If he heard you weeping, he must have been listening somehow. Maybe he lives in the walls. There are such creatures in the Mountain Kingdom.’
    Moth did not know. ‘He must be magic,’ she said.
    â€˜If he spins gold out of straw, he must work magic. One can be magic or do magic, but never both.’
    â€˜If only he will come,’ Moth said.
    â€˜Shall I tell you what I dreamed about to pass the time?’ asked the panther. Moth nodded, brushing a scatter of tears from her cheeks. ‘I dreamed of the mountains. Then I saw my son. He has been seeking me for long years. I did not know that. He was a just a cub when I was taken, yet there is no mistaking who he is. I had closed my eyes to my dreams until you came and wept for me and heard me speak. It was your magic that brought me back to myself. ’
    Moth was startled. ‘I did not know I had any magic. I thought it a queer knack I have of hearing what other people cannot hear. I keep it hidden because people in the Middle Kingdom don’t like things that are out of the ordinary.’
    â€˜Perhaps that is why the king can so easily draw all that is extraordinary to himself. The people’s fear of such things would drive them towards him. I doubt your father’s boasting about you or even the ill will of the man Camber had much to do