Free The Princess and the Captain by Anne-Laure Bondoux Page A

galniks?’
    â€˜No,’ said the boy, ‘it’s two hundred now. All the merchants are putting up their prices. Me too.’
    Orpheus sighed, and searched his pockets for coins to pay the little messenger.
    â€˜It’s from the old lady who sent me before,’ the boy explained. ‘She wants me to say it’s this evening at eleven.’
    Orpheus frowned. ‘Rather an enigmatic message. Didn’t she say anything else?’
    â€˜No,’ said the boy. ‘And if you ask me, hanging around in graveyards is not a good idea at the moment … don’t you know it’s forbidden?’
    Orpheus easily understood what he was getting at. He added another hundred galniks. ‘I hope that this will buy me your silence.’
    A little colour came back into the boy’s cheeks as he closed his dirty paw on the money. ‘I’ll be silent as the grave!’ he said confidently. And with these words he turned on his heel and disappeared round the corner of the next alley.
    Orpheus sneezed again, and made haste to get back into hissitting room. Hanging on the wall in front of him was the map of the Known World drawn up by the Geographical Institute of Galnicia. He had bought this valuable reproduction five years ago when he decided to set up house on his own. He often stood in front of it looking at the lands and seas whose names made him dream: the Lands of Aremica, the Orniant Empire, the Ochre Sea, the Sea of Ypree, Gurkistan, the Maltic Ocean … the whole of the Known World lay there before Orpheus, from east to west, strung out all along the Great Latitude. Galnicia, at its centre, had always seemed ridiculously small to him. Today, that impression weighed on him more than ever.
    â€˜I can’t go on living here,’ he said out loud.
    The old St Bernard growled.
    â€˜Something you want to say, Zeph?’ enquired Orpheus ungraciously.
    The dog pricked up one ear and then let it drop again.
    â€˜You’d like to leave, yes, of course!’ sighed Orpheus. ‘Nothing surprising about that, but how about me?’
    It was the only hope he had left – but how
could
he leave Galnicia at the moment? The fleet was requisitioned until further notice, all the borders were closed. The mourning imposed on the Galnicians by order of the Archont prevented any travelling.
    Time was getting on. Night was falling in the alleyways, fine raindrops lashed the windows, but Orpheus would have to go out.
    He went up to his room and sat in front of the mirror. A two-day beard covered his cheeks, and the pallor of his skin emphasised the brightness of his blue eyes. Every time he looked at his reflection Orpheus was surprised to find that hehad grown to be a man. In his heart he still felt like a child. It was as if he had never really lived except in a dream.
    He put on black clothes and gloves, placed a hat on his head, and then went back down to the sitting room. Before leaving he slipped the Captain’s logbook under his rain cape. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to read it. What was the point? From now on the name of the McBotts was soiled with shame, and Orpheus needed no further details.
    He was going to close the front door when Zeph let out another growl. The old dog had risen to his feet and was padding into the hall, his tail hanging.
    â€˜What do you want?’ asked Orpheus, taken aback.
    The St Bernard raised his moist eyes to his master. The look in them left no doubt of the answer: he wanted to come too.
    Orpheus heaved a sigh of exasperation. The old dog would lie flat on the floor for days on end, hardly moving, and now he wanted to go for a walk to a graveyard in the middle of the night, in this foul weather!
    At last Orpheus shrugged his shoulders and let Zeph out. He had long ago given up trying to work out what went on in the dog’s head.
    The city was shivering beneath a moonless sky. Not a lighted candle behind its windows, not a gas