She unfurled the paper and scanned it intently. A satisfied smile touched her lips and, rocking back on her heels, she rose to her feet and carried the note to the riverside. With nimble fingers she tore the paper to shreds and scattered them over the water. Then without so much as a backward glance she retraced her steps back to the house.
As soon as she was out of sight Will broke cover and raced to the riverbank. The torn fragments had disappeared, leaving no evidence that the message had ever existed.
He wondered if he should report all of this to Dr Dee, but what was there to tell? That he had found a scrap of paper with two ridiculous words on it? That a madwoman was behaving oddly? No, it was best to say nothing. But from now on he would keep a careful watch on Maddie.
He returned to Mortlake House by way of the garden, where the players immediately crowded round him, all of them disputing the latest pages of the script. Tom Craddock’s cold was clearing up at last, but Kit Beeston was reluctant to surrender the role of Proserpina, provoking a struggle for possession of the fairy crown. Henry Beeston complained that too many of Duke Theseus’s verses had been excised, leaving him insufficient material on which to practice his art. Ralph urged that the play needed more action. “Something to get the audience on their feet,” he said.
“I’ll deal with all of this as soon as I can,” Will promised, backing off.
Then he broke into a run and didn’t stop until he had reached the safety of the house. Shoving the desk up against the study door, he slumped into his chair and rubbed his brow.
“Players!” he groaned.
For the rest of the day he did his best to keep track of Maddie’s movements. As usual, she wandered randomly about the house and grounds, except when Dr Dee wished to speak with her. Then they would disappear, usually into the library and often with the casket containing the Black Stone.
Will resisted the temptation to observe or listen in on these sessions. The first occasion had been disturbing enough and he felt a pang of guilt at spying on his kindly host. Maddie was another matter, however. He discovered that there was a small turret room she liked to retreat to, and the following evening he worked up the nerve to sneak right up to the door.
It was ajar. Peeking through the crack, he saw Maddie seated on the edge of the open window, staring off toward the west. She was singing softly to herself, and though he strained to hear the words, Will could make no sense of them.
“Se do bheatha, a bhean ba leanmhar.
B’e ar gcreach tu bheith i ngeibhinn.
Oro! Se do bheatha ‘bhaile,
Anois ar theacht an tSamhraidh.”
The song had a haunting lilt and was in a language he had never heard before. He couldn’t shake off the notion that this might be one of the fairy tongues he had heard Dr Dee speak of. Was Dee right after all? Could Maddie really have come here from the world of spirits to reveal some wondrous secret?
Maddie’s voice fell silent and she jumped off the ledge with a speed that took Will by surprise. Afraid of being discovered, he darted back down the corridor as the door flew wide behind him. Ducking into a darkened alcove, he pressed his back against the wall and held his breath.
Maddie came traipsing down the passage, humming to herself the same eerie tune. Will made himself still as a statue as she skipped by. Her expression was rapt, as if she were a thousand miles away, drifting through the scented forests of a fairy isle. Then quick as an adder, she seized Will by the arm and yanked him out of his hiding place.
“Ah, Will,” she crooned. “You’ve a fondness for the older woman, I take it. Else why would you be padding along in my footsteps like a jealous lover?”
Will tried to slip away, but Maddie’s arm restrained him, shoving him back against the wall He took a ragged breath. “I was trying to find my way to the…the kitchen,” he stammered lamely.
Maddie tutted reprovingly. “For a player, you’re a damned clumsy liar. You forget, Will, the angels are talking to me all the time and their eyes are everywhere.” She wriggled her fingers in the air about his head. “You’ve been hanging on to my tail for two days now. Should I take it that you’re lovesick, or is there something else at the back of all your spying?”
“I wasn’t spying, I swear,” Will answered weakly. He tried to wriggle loose, but Maddie pressed her body against his, jamming him against the wall. Her breath caressed his face, and he was afraid he might faint. The last time he had felt this hot and weak, he had been laid up in bed with a fever.
Maddie bared her teeth in a smile, a stray lock of her hair tickling Will’s cheek. “It would be a shame to rob the world of a bonnie lad like yourself, Will,” she whispered, a hard glint in her dark eyes.
A small, sharp kitchen knife flashed in her hand. Will flinched, but Maddie pressed against him even harder to keep him prisoner. With one quick stroke she sliced the top button off his shirt, the blade’s edge scraping lightly over the bare flesh beneath. Will swallowed as the point came to rest at his throat.
“You named me well, Will,” Maddie crooned in his ear, “for it’s mad I am. I’m Mad Maddie and there’s no telling what I’ll do next.”
She stroked his neck with the blade. Will knew if he as much as sneezed she could cut his throat with a flick of her wrist. He couldn’t think clearly enough to decide whether to plead for mercy or shut his eyes and surrender himself to whatever she had planned.
Maddie leaned in so close their faces were only a whisker apart. “Aye, Will,” she whispered, “you never know what I might do.”
Then she pressed her lips hard against his and kissed him. For a few seconds Will’s head was as giddy as a ball kicked into the sky. His breath stopped dead, his heart forgot to beat, and his legs turned to water beneath him.
Then Maddie was gone, her mocking laugh echoing behind her as she disappeared down the corridor. Will touched a finger to his throat to assure himself there was no blood dripping from it. His heart resumed its beating and his breath returned in huge gasps.
Pushing himself away from the wall, he made a frantic dash for his room. Throwing himself on to the bed, he buried his face in the crook of his arm with a noise that was half-way between a moan and a sob.
13 The Downfall of Adonis
“Parry left! Now right!”
Will shifted the blunt player’s sword from side to side, deflecting the incoming blade. The two swords clashed then separated.
“Now high!” ordered Walter. “Now low!”
Again Will moved to block his blows, each time taking a step back, and another, until he began to stumble over his own feet.
“No, no,” chided Walter, putting up his sword. “Space your feet apart for balance and hold your ground. Remember – your defence is only laying the ground for your attack. If all you do is block and retreat, sooner or later you’ll be trapped in a corner – and then you’re done for.”
They were at the back of Mortlake House in a vacant space among the ramshackle outbuildings. That morning Walter had returned from London in good spirits with a packet of papers for Dr Dee. Spotting Will washing the ink of many long hours’ writing from his fingers, he insisted on giving him some instruction in swordplay, as he had already done with Henry Beeston and Ralph.
“I doubt I’ve the talent for war,” Will said when they were done.
“Wars come without being wished for,” said Walter, making passes in the air with his blade. “You apply yourself to the manly arts, Will, and then you’ll write your name among the stars.”
“However large his name becomes,” called a lilting voice, “it will never be on your lips as often as your own.”
Maddie ambled round the corner of one of the outbuildings and stopped there with one hand resting on her hip. Will instinctively edged closer to Walter, as if a wolf had just come padding out of the underbrush.
“Why, my Lady Mad,” Walter greeted her, “so the angels have not taken you back to their bosom.”
“My Lord Roughly, no,” Maddie respond
ed tartly, “they’d rather keep me here to puncture your pride.”
“I would rather trumpet my name abroad,” said Walter, pointing at her with his sword, “than have it forgotten, as yours is, even by yourself.”
Maddie strolled casually past them. “Your wit is almost as sharp as that oversized needle you carry about with,” she remarked.
Walter sheathed his sword and grinned. “I promise I’ll take care not to prick you with it.”
Maddie disappeared into the house and even when she was out of sight Walter continued to smile after her. Will realised the young adventurer was more taken with the madwoman than he would ever confess to. He needed to warn him just how dangerous Maddie was, even if it meant embarrassing himself by telling how she had caught him last night.
Before he could speak, a window flew open high above their heads and Dr Dee’s amiable face popped out. “Walter!” he called. “Those calculations of Ortelius’s you brought me are exactly what I needed. Come up and see the results!”
Walter waved to the scholar and the window banged shut again. “That’s the end of the lesson then, Will,” he said, “but remember what I taught you.” He patted the hilt of his sword and went inside.
Will stared at the blunt player’s sword in his hand, more toy than weapon. It didn’t make him feel much like a man, let alone a hero.
That evening Will sat in the centre of Dr Dee’s vast library, reading by candlelight. With all the tales of the world around him, he still went back to his favourite, The Metamorphoses. He was re-reading Ovid’s account of how Venus, the goddess of love, fell in love with a handsome youth named Adonis. He felt as if for the first time he was really beginning to understand the story. Venus cared so much for Adonis, she lived in fear that some awful thing might happen to him, and so she cautioned him to always be careful.
Wherefore I pray thee, my sweet boy, forebear too bold to be, For fear thy rashness hurt thyself and work the woe of me.
In spite of Venus’s warning Adonis went hunting and was gored to death by a boar. Perhaps, Will thought, he should return to Stratford now – whatever trouble still awaited him there – rather than remain here waiting for something worse to happen.
All at once he realised he was no longer alone. Stealthy footsteps were creeping about the library. Through a gap in a bookshelf Will caught the faintest glimpse of a moving lantern.
Blowing out his candle before it could be spotted, he slid off his chair and under the table. When the light reached the centre of the library he saw a pair of legs in stout breeches and leather boots padding by. They disappeared round a corner then he heard a scuffling noise and a creak.
After a few moments the visitor returned and Will heard the lamp being set down on the table above his head. Those boots certainly didn’t belong to Dr Dee or to Walter. Sliding out from under the table, Will stole a glimpse over the edge.
Maddie, dressed in a shirt and breeches, was bent over the green book Dr Dee had used to note down her visions. She was trying to force the brass lock open with her knife, her teeth gritted in frustration.
Will’s heart leapt into his throat. He ducked back down, his pulse pounding so hard he was amazed Maddie couldn’t hear it. His worst suspicions were confirmed. Mad Maddie was no more than a common thief, tricking her way into Dee’s house in order to steal from him. The sailor who’d hidden the message in the tree roots was undoubtedly her accomplice and was probably waiting with a boat to help her escape with her loot.
Will was suddenly furious. She had imposed on the good doctor, and used her charms on Walter and himself. Whatever she had in mind, she had to be stopped. He was bracing himself to challenge her when he heard the creak of the library door opening.
Maddie stiffened and Will seized his chance. Springing from cover, he snatched the book off the table.
Maddie rounded on him like a lioness. Her dark eyes flared and she bore down on him, raising her knife to strike. “Give that up, Will,” she warned, “or it’s no kiss I’ll be giving you this time!”
Will took an unsteady step backwards. “This is none of yours to take,” he declared, hoping he sounded bolder than he felt. Clutching the book to his chest, he made a bolt for it. A chair went flying as Maddie chased after him.
“You pestilent cur!” she swore. “I’ll fillet your gizzard!”
Will ducked behind one bookcase then round another. He realised too late he had no idea where he was running to. One dead end and Maddie would be on him like a fury. He saw one of the moving ladders and scrambled up, looking for some vantage point from which he could fend her off. Maddie was hot on his heels and caught him by the ankle as he clambered on to the very top of the bookcase.
“Drop that book, you slippery eel!” she warned. She tugged hard, setting the bookshelves swaying like the deck of a ship at sea.
With a desperate kick Will broke free and rolled over the top of the bookcase. Catching hold of a shelf, he hung off the far side, his legs dangling. With a grunt Maddie launched herself after him and toppled the bookcase over.
Will yelped, lost his grip and dropped to the floor in a shower of books, the pages fluttering about him like birds’ wings. Then the bookcase crashed down on top of him, hammering the breath out of him and pinning him to the floor.
Through a dizzy haze he saw Maddie’s leather boots step into view, saw her hand reach down and pluck the green book from his nerveless fingers. “You’re a good lad, Will,” she said, “and the doctor’s treated me kindly. For that give him this warning from me: tell him to beware the Devil’s Fire.”
“It’s you the devil will be roasting,” interjected another voice.
It was Walter.
Twisting painfully so that he could look up, Will saw a wicked smile on Maddie’s lips. “I’ve no time for a love tryst with you now, Walter. Maybe another time, when I’ve no other business to occupy me.”
“Your business here is done, Lady Mad,” said Walter. His sword came rasping from its sheath.
“So you’ve come to prick me after all,” said Maddie playfully. “It’s not gentlemanly to bare your weapon in a lady’s presence.”
“I’ll not banter with you today,” said Walter. “The book, if you please.”
“I suppose I’ve no choice here,” said Maddie, “me being only a woman, and you being so well armed.”
She held out the book to him but as he reached to take it, she let it fall. Reflexively Walter’s eyes darted to the floor. Seizing on the distraction, Maddie grabbed his sword arm, yanked him in close and rammed her knee into his groin. Walter doubled over with bellow of pain as Maddie ripped the sword from his hand.
“What chance has a poor weak woman against such an accomplished blade?” she crooned. “Why, none at all, surely.”
Flipping the rapier over, she caught the blade in both hands, then swung it like a club, cracking Walter over the back of the skull with the hilt. The young adventurer collapsed in a senseless heap. Maddie shook her head pityingly and flung the sword down beside him.
“I’ll not unman you by taking your weapon,” she said, picking up the green book, “but for the sake of your heart, your liver and the rest of your innards, let’s not keep company again.”
And then she was gone.
14 The Game is Up
“Damn all wenches to the fires of Hell!” Walter roared, kicking a stool across the room and bouncing it off the wall. He poured the last of Dr Dee’s brandy down his throat then smashed the empty bottle in the fireplace.
Will was stretched out on the same couch where they had placed Maddie after first discovering her. Dr Dee had smeared a soothing ointment over his bruises and assured him that in spite of the pain he had no broken bones. Caleb stood in the corner, looking on. Alerted by the crash of the fallen bookcase, he and Dr Dee had come rushing into the library barely a minute after Maddie’s departure.
“Intemperate language will gain us nothing,” Dee cautioned. He sat down in a large chair and drummed his fingers on the arm
.
“You’re right,” Walter admitted, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “It’s just that she made a buffoon of me. I’ve never known a woman with such fight in her.”
“Could her hand have been guided by the spirits?” suggested Dr Dee.
“No,” Walter retorted sharply, “not unless the spirits are all Burgundian mercenaries.”
“Shouldn’t we be chasing her?” asked Will.
“I would if I’d the least inkling of where she’s gone,” said Walter.
Dr Dee waved his assistant to come closer. “Caleb, I’ve seen you talking with her,” he said. “Do you know what her plans are?”
Caleb shook his head. “We spoke of how to bake biscuits, boil a ham, that’s all,” he said.
“Go search the grounds then,” said Dee. “See if you can find any trace of where she went.”
Caleb hesitated a moment, then shuffled out of the room, closing the door silently behind him. Walter checked that he wasn’t listening outside before speaking.
“He’s a shifty rogue,” he said.
“His story was badly begun,” said Dee. “I had intended to guide it to a happier ending.”
“Still, if he knows something…” said Walter.
Dee shook his head. “I don’t believe Maddie would have trusted him with any information that would help us.”
“I’d settle for some clue as to who she really is,” said Walter.
“So you don’t believe she lost her memory?” asked Will.
Walter snorted. “We’re the ones who lost our wits, trusting her as we did.”
“She was very convincing,” said Dee. “Those visions she had when she touched the stone—”
“Told us nothing,” Walter cut in.
Will recalled what Caleb had said about the philosopher’s stone and wondered if there might be something to his theories after all. Trying to sound casual, he asked. “What stone is this you’re talking about?”
Will Shakespeare and the Pirate's Fire Page 8