Ill Met by Moonlight

by Mercedes Lackey

  He settled on the ground beside Denoriel, leaning against his thigh. “Remember when you took me to that Unformed domain and the creature—well, it was like a lion but not fully like—charged at us? Later, I don’t remember when, I asked if it would not be wise to hunt down that lion so that no other innocent caught in the domain would be hurt. You remember, I know. Just now you asked if I had gone hunting the lion alone because you could not take me.”

  “Of course I remember,” Denoriel snapped. “I have been busy, not lost my mind.”

  “Did you know how hard such a beast is to kill?” he asked.

  Denoriel laughed. “Yes, I knew, which was one of the reasons I did not wish to take you there before you were fully recovered—and I think that has only been recently.”

  “Oh, yes,” Harry replied, glad that he could give that answer. “I am much stronger. Mwynwen only needs to draw off the poison once a month or so. And for the last year, I have been going hunting whenever a hunt was formed. But it was too easy, Denno. I looked at the poor deer, even a boar, and I thought how unfair, how useless it was to kill them. We did not need the meat. Our weapons …”

  Denoriel was far from stupid; he saw the way the conversation was going immediately, and he stared at Harry, aghast. “And naturally you immediately thought of the beast in the Unformed domain … Harry!”

  Harry shrugged insouciantly. “Well, I thought you would not like me to go alone and … It was not that I was afraid—”

  Denoriel was torn between his horror that Harry had attempted such a thing and his pride in Harry for what had clearly been a successful attempt.“You should have been afraid, you idiot!”

  Harry grinned unrepentantly. “But it is not much fun to hunt alone, and a full hunting party is well suited for such tasks. And then I caught Elidir tormenting a gnome—”

  “And you told him to stop!” Denoriel threw his hands up in the air. “It is a miracle you are alive, that he did not substitute you for the gnome.”

  “You forget this.” Harry pointed to the blue star on his forehead. “No, to be fair, that wasn’t what stopped him. He—he was really ashamed, and he hadn’t hurt the gnome, only frightened it, teasing it hard, driving it past being able to think, like a well-fed cat with a mouse. Anyway, I said that if he needed a challenge I knew of something worthwhile that needed killing and told him about the lion. He was the one who told me how hard those creations were to kill while they were in their own place and he knew of other Sidhe who were also getting tired of living. So he asked them, and we formed a party.”

  “Yes, and I knew about them,” Denoriel said slowly, “And I knew about the beasts of the Unformed domains, but I never put the two together.” Denoriel shook his head and finally laughed weakly. “Mortal mischief. So what will you do when you have cleaned out that domain?”

  “That domain is long safe and quiet. We are working in El Dorado now.” Harry gave a slight shiver and leaned harder against Denoriel. “I do not know if we will ever cleanse that place. There is something … something truly evil that has tainted it.”

  “Truly evil?” Denoriel raised an eyebrow. “I have never ventured there—”

  Harry nodded. “Yes, evil at heart. The beasts in the chaos lands are dangerous, but not truly evil. But what is in El Dorado …” He rubbed his face against Denoriel as he had when he was a little boy. “So far we have only found the evil’s spawn, not the thing itself. Elidir and Mechain are both working on their magic now that they have a worthy foe.” Harry’s face lit with a smile of great sweetness. “They are as good and bright as newborn, and many others, too. It only took giving them a purpose again, a noble, fine purpose, and now they are like guardian knights! And who knows, if we can cleanse El Dorado, perhaps it can be a home again for the Seleighe Sidhe. It is a beautiful place.”

  Denoriel hugged Harry’s shoulders. “If we can ever find those that fled it or breed enough Sidhe to need another elfhame. But truly evil? That is dangerous, Harry, far more dangerous than a construct lion.”

  “You need not worry about me.” Harry grinned. “Elidir and Mechain and the others guard me as if I were a precious jewel. They don’t want to lose their discoverer of trouble, the one who cured their boredom.”

  Denoriel laughed and nodded. He was sure that was true. A human who gave freely of his creativity, not constrained or dulled with longing for his lost home and friends, was a precious jewel to the Sidhe. And Harry’s eyes were bright, his face alive with interest.

  So he asked the question he most needed to know the answer to. “Then you are content to live Underhill, Harry? You do not long for the mortal world?”

  “Not at all. I do miss Elizabeth, that I will grant. I long to see her again before she is no longer a child at all, but I always wanted to live Underhill.” He sighed, and the sound was full of content. “I am glad to be here. Given the choice of all the worlds and all time, I would still live here.”

  Denoriel smiled. “Then I will take you to see Elizabeth.”

  “Now?” Harry shot to his feet.

  Denoriel laughed. “No, not this minute, but as soon as I can get an amulet with the Don’t-see-me spell and explain a little of the situation to you. I’ve already sent Aleneil a message about the amulet. I hope it will be in my apartment when we return.”

  But now Harry was all afire with impatience. “Then let’s go now.”

  “No.” Denoriel shook his head. “Sit down again, Harry. I’d like to finish talking about Elizabeth here and I have much to tell you.”

  He told Harry not only the plan for meeting but tried to prepare him for Elizabeth’s lack of trust in everyone and to explain that however young Elizabeth was in years, there was almost nothing childlike about her. Neither her manners nor her speech were other than those of a grown woman. And he explained her precarious situation too, that she was envied and spied on because her brother was fond of her and that many considered her tainted with her mother’s promiscuousness and conniving, hoped to use that to make her father reject her.

  “Nonsense!” Harry exclaimed. “Anne was a fool, but never promiscuous.”

  Denoriel shrugged. “I agree, but the fact that Catherine Howard, who was Anne’s cousin, really was little better than a whore has convinced everyone, even those who at first could not believe the accusations against her, that Anne was also an adulteress.”

  Harry snorted. “Anne was too clever to commit adultery. She was only a fool in not seeing that even the innocent could be accused, and by the king’s will be convicted.”

  Denoriel nodded. “You and I know that is the truth; however, the fact of Anne’s conviction and execution leaves Elizabeth very vulnerable. It would be very bad if Elizabeth were caught with a man, not to mention how you, who are supposed to be long dead, could explain yourself. And do think, Harry! What else might be thought of, to see you, who was so nearly the king’s heir, talking with Elizabeth, when you have been supposed dead. Would that not stink to high heaven of treason?”

  Harry narrowed his eyes. “There have been pretenders e’re this,” he said slowly, “And heirs who were supposed dead, had men who were in their likeness return.”

  “And no matter what might come of Elizabeth being seen with an ordinary man, being seen with one who appears to be the late duke of Richmond …” Denoriel prompted.

  “Yes, treason. Or a conspiracy to commit treason.”

  Denoriel nodded. “So you must be prepared to disappear if anyone should appear, no matter how brief your meeting.”

  “And have my one chance to see Elizabeth cut short!” Harry protested, pain in his voice.

  “One chance? Oh no, I think not.” Denoriel was grinning fit to split his head. “After this, you will be able to see her at many convenient times and without any danger of being overlooked. I can bring her Underhill—she is marked by Titania to come and go. Only this time she insists on you coming to her so she can be sure you are not an illusion.” A tinge of bitterness touched Denoriel’s voice. “I
told you. She does not trust me.”

  “Poor child,” Harry said, grief for her making his voice low. “Poor child. At least I had that. You were my great rock, my safe place. I had you.”

  They arrived in the maze early, before the moon was fully risen, and made their way carefully through the Wilderness. There were voices near the pond at the center. It was a warm evening, and a few members of the court had sought the greater privacy of that place. Most courtiers went to walk in the great formal gardens that fronted the palace. These voices were young, boy and girl, possibly servants, but they were already saying their farewells. Harry and Denoriel waited.

  The moon was barely peeping above the trees when they came out of the wilderness near the wall that surrounded the nursery. Wearing the Don’t-see-me spell, Denoriel touched the guard at the gate, leaving him erect but with glazed, unseeing eyes. Harry opened the iron gate with the guard’s key, Denoriel slipped past it with a shiver of pain, and they went into the small formal garden where they were to meet Elizabeth. From a shadowed corner, Denoriel pointed out the doorway through which Elizabeth would come.

  As the moon rose, it slanted the shadows of the small trees across the benches they shaded. As soon as the shadows were long enough, Harry walked quickly across the exposed lawn and seated himself where he would be able to watch the door for Elizabeth. Denoriel remained in the shadow of the wall. He had dismissed the Don’t-see-me spell to save the drain on his power. He hoped he would not need it, but just in case of discovery he wanted enough power to do magic.

  The moon rose higher. Inside her apartment, Elizabeth, who had been trembling with first eagerness and then anxiety, said impatiently, “I can wait no longer. If anyone should see us and ask, I will say that it is so hot that I could not breathe. I had to go out.”

  She was dressed in black with only a white collar embroidered with silver around her neck. The inner side of the sleeves of her gown were also silver, but they were turned under so the silver side did not show. She and Blanche had discussed removing the collar and then decided that to do so might imply a need for secrecy.

  Dunstan held the guard’s position at the door. He had sent Nyle on an errand, not because Nyle would have protested Elizabeth’s going out but because he would have insisted on following her. When Blanche opened the door, Dunstan signed that all was clear, and the women slipped out and down the stair. Blanche too was wearing black and stepped so quickly out of the door and to the side that Harry did not notice her.

  He did hear her low-voiced, “Come, love,” and stood, making out a blur of white that was Elizabeth’s face as she hurried quickly across the path that separated the garden from the buildings. He started forward at once, eagerness overcoming caution and called softly, “Elizabeth.”

  In the shadows by the wall, Denoriel bit his lip and cast anxious eyes over the garden. It was barely twilight to him, even in the shadows, and where the moonlight was unimpeded, bright as day. He saw nothing. Even so he extended a thread of perception that should have snagged on anything warm and breathing. It found only Elizabeth and Harry.

  Denoriel did not seek in the buildings; there would be many humans there. Thus he did not notice that a young man sat dozing by an open window, seeking a breeze. Harry’s voice, Elizabeth’s name, snapped his eyes open, but he did not move except to turn his head slowly so he could see.

  What he saw was Elizabeth turn toward the voice (a man’s strong voice) that called her name, hesitate, and then hurtle toward the man, who had just emerged from the shadows near a bench. Stafford watched without moving long enough to see Elizabeth fling herself into the man’s arms. He slipped carefully away from the window then, slowly enough so that any reflection of moonlight on his white shirt would not attract attention, and began hurriedly to dress. He could hear excited voices, one clearly male, but not what was said and he could not wait to listen. He had a long way to go.

  Elizabeth had turned her head at the sound of her name, stared for just a moment, and then flung herself forward, careless of being exposed fully in the moonlight, crying, “Da! Da!”

  “My baby. My baby.” Harry’s voice was thick with tears and then laughter as he held her a little away from him to look at her. “Only you are no baby any longer. But you are still Da’s girl, are you not?”

  To his surprise she began to tremble and weep, pulled a little farther away, fumbled under her skirt for a moment, and then thrust something into his hand. He looked down to see the iron cross that he had worn for nearly all of his life, until he passed it to the infant Elizabeth.

  “Sweetheart, dearling,” he said, extending the hand with the cross to her, “I am in no danger. You need to keep the cross with you …”

  And then he realized why she had thrust the cold iron on him without warning. She did not wish to return the cross. She had feared he was a disguised Sidhe or a construct. Neither could have borne the touch of cold iron.

  “I am me, love, truly I am,” Harry assured her, bending his head and kissing the cross he held. “I am well and whole. Look, I will put the cross on and wear it while I am with you. I swear I was saved. I am alive and well.”

  Then she embraced him with all the fierce strength of her young arms and burst into a storm of weeping, and clung to him, sobbing. He kissed her hair and hugged her back.

  “I never knew what was the truth,” she whispered. “Kat only said that you were very far away and would never be allowed to come home because you would be a threat to Edward. But when I asked the guards, the look on their faces told another tale. And once I saw tears run down Gerrit’s face when he denied you were dead. I stopped asking because I could see how much it hurt them. They loved you and they knew you were dead.”

  “Someone else was buried in my place. They did not know that.” Harry replied, grief for his friends and protectors thickening his voice. “I knew they loved me. They fought so hard for so many years to keep me safe. It is a miracle that they were not killed more than once. And they fought for you, too, dearling, that night that I was wounded. They are ageing now. Do you need younger men to protect you?”

  “No, by God’s Grace. I am nearly always lodged with my brother and any palace in which he stays is very well guarded indeed.” He heard a firm determination in her voice that was out of keeping with her years. “I will keep them with me as long as they are willing to stay and Denno has promised to help me pension them if they wish to retire. Also, I am not of any importance any longer. Edward is hale and well, God be praised, and he will rule and rule well.” At the thought of her brother, she raised her face to look into Harry’s, with a tremulous smile. “Oh, it is a shame that you cannot meet Edward. He is so clever—”

  “You are so clever. Not like me.” He shook his head, ruefully. “I always loved my horse and my sword far better than my books. Denno tells me about your progress in languages and your other lessons … and about how you skin him alive now and then.”

  She was silent for a moment, looking into his face in the bright moonlight. “I am sorry,” she said in a small voice. “I know I have not always been kind to Denno, but I was so afraid he was lying to me about you. If he lied about one thing, why would he not lie about another? I wanted so much to trust him … and I could not.”

  “But you can, love,” he told her firmly. “Really you can. Denno is truer than gold—for gold can be false, as I well know—but Denno cannot. He almost died for you once already, when you were not quite three years old, and he will do anything for you.” He lowered his voice to a murmur. “You are his whole purpose in life, Elizabeth, and all he asks in return is love.”

  “That he has,” she admitted. “Which is why I ripped up at him so hard. Because I did not want to love him and could not help it. But I cannot swear I will never say harsh things again, nor refrain from teasing with my claws, like a naughty cat. I—you are sweet, Da. I am not.”

  Harry laughed heartily. “Oh, do not try to make yourself over for Denno. He loves you just as you are. He has
said to me more than once that he could not do without having his blood boiled once or twice a week.” As Elizabeth giggled he hugged her tight, then stepped back and took her hand. “Now I cannot tell you anything about where I am and what I do—and you know the reason for that—but you can tell me about how it has gone with you. I am hungry, dearling, to hear everything, every little thing, what time you rise, how and on what you break your fast, and all the doings of your days.”

  When Stafford was dressed, he took one more quick glance out of the window to make sure it was really Elizabeth and she was really with a man. He was just in time to see her fling her arms around her visitor and squeeze him as tight as she could, to see the man bend his head to kiss her hair and embrace her as fiercely as she embraced him. He then went quickly out of his room and down the stairs, through a servant’s passage and out the back door.

  A road ran behind the buildings. Stafford turned right on it. He was soon behind the wall of Hampton Court Palace and he walked along quickly until he found a guarded door.

  “I am Henry, Lord Stafford,” he said to the guard, “and I have important news for the Lady Mary, very important. I know it is late, but could a message be sent to the lady requesting that she see me.”

  The guard frowned, but behind him in the corridor was a bench on which a page slept. The door he guarded was the closest to the nursery wing and the page was there for the purpose of carrying messages about the children. If the prince should be taken ill, for example, the page would go to the king and he would send for his physicians. Sometimes the servants of one of the younger boys would ask that a message be carried to the mother or father of the child because of some emergency. The guard could not remember ever sending a message to the king’s eldest daughter, but there was no rule against doing so.