Taste of Treason

by April Taylor

  “And his fury?”

  “He is quick to anger and when rage overcomes him, becomes hasty and impetuous.”

  “And that helps us how, Master Apothecary?”

  A loud knocking at the door of her apartments made them jump. She motioned him to hide behind the heavy curtain. Through a small hole, he watched as one of the ladies-in-waiting scurried in and curtsied.

  “Your Grace, there is a guard outside with a raggedy boy and girl who says she is a servant of the Queen. They crave admittance.”

  Luke saw Queen Anne shoot a glance at the curtain behind which he hid.

  “Are they unarmed?”

  “Aye, Your Grace. They have no weapons. The guard has already examined them.”

  “Wait outside until I consider this. Make sure the guard stays, too. I may wish to question him.”

  After a pause, Luke saw her walk towards his curtain.

  “Well, Master Ballard, can we guess who these visitors might be?”

  “Rob is under a Fidelis spell to me, Your Grace. So long as he knows we are working together in this enterprise, his tongue will be stilled. The girl knows where I was taken. Between them they have accomplished what we needed. Alys is here.”

  “And the guard?”

  “Misremembrance spell, Your Grace. Send Gwenette to bring them in and we can accomplish all that we need without fuss.”

  His eyes met hers through the hole in the curtain.

  “You know much, Master Ballard.”

  Luke did not pretend to misunderstand her.

  “I have been aware for some time that Gwenette is as fully in your confidence as Rob is in mine.”

  Within minutes, a bemused guard was escorted from the Queen Mother’s chambers glowing at the thanks she had bestowed on him for the logs he clearly remembered bringing for her fire. Once more Luke marveled at the depth of her skills.

  The most difficult thing about the whole plan was persuading Rob that Alys would be quite safe with Gwenette in the Queen’s apartments.

  “I am not easy in my mind about her, Master Ballard,” he repeated with an obstinate set to his mouth.

  “Rob, believe me that I shall know the minute anything threatens either of them. Gwenette is my friend. Do you think I would willingly put her in danger? Alys, talk to him. I must speak with Gwenette.”

  He drew his friend to one side.

  “I have something for you, Gwenette, something I need you to keep secretly.”

  He put his hand into his sleeve and pulled out a broad velvet ribbon. Clipped on to it was a jeweled ouch with a large blue central stone nestling in leaves made from gold.

  “Hold out your arm.”

  She did so, looking from the ornament to him, her expression one of utter confusion as he fastened it around her wrist. Her voice when she spoke was breathless with emotion.

  “Luke, that is beautiful. Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”

  Embarrassed by her misreading of the purpose of the ouch, Luke could not meet her gaze.

  “This is for your protection,” he said. “I know you for a courageous lady but you are going into danger. The instant you feel you are in peril, press the blue stone. It is attuned to me and I will come to your aid immediately.”

  Blood rushed to her face.

  “Ah, not a gift, then.”

  Luke squeezed her hand, forcing her to look into his eyes.

  “A man is lucky who has friends, Gwenette. You are my friend and I will do my utmost to protect you. Now, hide this under your sleeve and tell nobody you have it. Rob and I must go. I hope Alys has been able to talk some sense into him.”

  It became clear as Luke and Gwenette joined the others that Alys’s efforts had met with little success.

  “Think of it, Rob. I shall be in the palace, within calling distance of guards and other servants. What can befall me? I am surely safer here than at your house, where that awful priest can reach me whenever he wishes and take me for questioning, just as he did to Master Ballard’s friends.”

  “Master Panton,” Queen Anne said, flashing him her most alluring smile. “Shall I make it easier for you?” She paused whilst Rob, still suspicious, nodded. “Then I give you a royal command,” she continued in a hard voice dripping with anger. “You worry over a serving maid when the royal heir is threatened? What kind of loyalty is that?”

  Rob looked up at her.

  “One born of love,” he answered.

  Luke spun round and beat the wall with his fists, causing Queen Anne to burst into peals of laughter, her good mood restored.

  “In that case,” she said. “We will take great care of Mistress Alys. Talking of love, there is one more thing we must put in hand.”

  “Your Grace?” Luke said frowning. What had he forgotten?

  “Mistress Ysabel Broome. She must not be permitted to regain the favor she once held with the King whilst the Queen is in confinement. I will think of some diversion for her.”

  “Why not send her back to her home?”

  Queen Anne frowned at him.

  “Do you not think we have considered that?” she asked, at her most haughty. “She is considered to be part of the King’s household, not ours, and as such, we have no direct authority over her. If we could ensure that she never troubled the court again, we would not hesitate. We may be able to persuade our son that the Queen would be easier in her mind without the strumpet at court. That, however, is our task. Go now and see to yours.”

  Rob’s demeanor on the walk home was sullen and he spent most of the time arguing with Luke about Alys. It was not until they were almost home that he told Luke about the two men in the chapel.

  Luke stopped and grasped his arm.

  “You are saying that the men you overheard in the chapel and the men Alys saw in the church at Hampton were the same?”

  “Aye, that’s what she said.”

  “You realize what this means, Rob. Who would have ready access to the church, whether here at the palace or in Hampton?”

  “Somebody wanting to pray?”

  Luke pressed on. “And who by his actions has caused us much heartache in recent days? Who had Corbin and Bertila taken for questioning? Who refused to bury Edith and was forced to do so?”

  Luke saw comprehension dawn in Rob’s eyes. “Aye. Frayner,” he said. “But if he came to the palace, he would be seen.”

  “Think, Rob. Have you and Alys not proved tonight that those who wish to get in unnoticed can do so with ease?”

  Rob nodded.

  “There is more you do not know, Luke. In the village, I listened to people in the tavern. It is certain that Frayner did not pray for Edith’s soul nor ask forgiveness for her. He did not commend her spirit to God. She will have been cast into outer darkness.”

  “And if he is who I think he is, Rob, he will have a use for her poor wandering soul, and you can believe that it will be an evil one.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The next morning, Luke decided on his strategy. If Frayner were Nimrod, what better way to throw him off balance than by a frontal attack? Not a physical one, obviously, but it would do the rabid priest no harm at all to be called to account for his high-handed arrogance and to let him know he was not untouchable.

  Throughout the breakfast that Rob cobbled together, Luke pondered his best approach. It was only the silence with which the food was eaten that alerted him to Rob’s strange mood.

  “What ails thee, lad?”

  Rob threw down his spoon.

  “You are so wrapped up in your own thoughts that you have none left for those who need shielding. Master Quayne and Mistress Bertila are safe, notwithstanding their ordeal. But Alys is not and neither is Gwenette. How can you sit there eating frumenty, which I know you dislike, with no more attention than if it was swill for the pigs?”

  “You have no cause for alarm where Alys is concerned. No harm will come to her.”

  “What about Mistress Paige? You must be aware of her feelings for you
and yet you use her as you would a convenient tool. Something fit for the task. Never a thought for her well-being and safety.”

  “Do not speak of things you know nothing about.” Luke’s voice was quiet.

  “Know nothing about? Have you never looked at her face when you talk to her in such an offhand fashion? She is in love with you. Have you no feelings, Luke? Is it in you to love? Can you imagine what torments I suffer knowing that Alys is in peril? That her soul may also be threatened like that of Edith Brook?”

  Luke scowled at him so fiercely that he saw the boy give a convulsive swallow.

  “I pray pardon, Master. I was too forward.”

  Luke rubbed his hand over his mouth. “Not so, Rob. My feelings are no concern of yours, but your last comment gives me much cause for thought.”

  “How so?”

  “I have been in error. Edith Brook was not delegated to fill the bath that night. She merely helped Alys. Edith was not chosen for her name.” He hit the table with a clenched fist. “I am wrong. And if I am, where else have I gone awry? I must speak to Alys again.”

  “I will accompany you to the palace.”

  “No, Rob. You must take some more medicine to Bertila. Before I speak to Alys, I want to unbalance our enemy. I am going to confront that rabid priest. Let us see if I can move him to such wrath as will force him into an error.”

  “Take care, Master. You do not know what friends he has or what influence they might hold in high places.”

  “There are times, Rob, when a man has to hazard all on one throw of the dice. Besides, we have friends in high places, too.”

  “That may be,” Rob said with a frown, “but will they be friends when you need them?”

  * * *

  Luke was confident he had prepared sufficiently for his war of words with the priest, but as soon as he saw the man, his careful arguments deserted him. All he could remember was that this creature had caused such hurt to Corbin and Bertila.

  He had knocked on the door, to be admitted by the woman he assumed was the daughter of Rob’s informant. She had conducted him without comment to the priest’s study. As he was about to enter, Luke saw a swarthy man peer round a distant corner, then dodge back out of sight. Pinero, the Spanish servant. He certainly needed to know more about this precious pair. Distracted, Luke was taken aback when the priest leapt towards him as he entered the room.

  “Unless you have come to beg for mercy for your high-handed demeanor, then we have nothing to say to each other,” Frayner spat out the words.

  “If you think I owe you such a plea, you are sadly in error. I name you coward and instrument of Satan.”

  Frayner’s face turned a mottled shade of red, his neck swelled and his dark eyes flashed venom.

  “You have publicly challenged me twice, apothecary, and for that alone you will be punished. I will see you on the spike before I am finished, suffering the torments you so richly deserve. Pain has ever been the most effective means of forcing truth from reluctant tongues.”

  Luke thrust his face close to Frayner’s.

  “Like you did to my innocent friends, because you were too cowardly to come after me directly? I spit on you, but you have accomplished one thing and that is that I will not rest until your calumnies are revealed to the world and you are exposed as the devil you really are.” For a moment, Luke thought Frayner would suffer a seizure and he smiled. “Yes, I wish you could suffer the same evil you brought down on my friend, who, even now lies abed, unable to speak or conduct his business.”

  “That he suffered such a fit only proves that the allegations were correct. Who but Satan would effect such a rescue just when we were on the verge of a confession? To set them free was against God’s law and I shall not rest until they and you are suffering the torment and death you merit.”

  Luke leaned forward again, waving one finger under the priest’s nose.

  “Touch my friends at your peril, priest. As for me, do your worst.”

  Turning, he walked from the room and slammed out of the house. The walk home gave him time to consider what had happened. He had lost the argument by losing his temper, exactly the fault in Nimrod he hoped to exploit in order to vanquish him. If he could not control his own emotions, what chance did he stand of besting the sunderer? Corbin and Bertila were probably now in greater danger from Frayner than they had been before. What was worse, he had doubled his problems. He would have to take steps to protect them using valuable mental resources that would have been better spent on exposing the enemy and safeguarding the Queen. His old habit of self-doubt surfaced with disconcerting ease. He had worked hard, and with some success, to eradicate this destructive trait.

  Luke squared his shoulders. What was done was done but he had compounded his difficulties. He must put on the coat of confidence and self-belief and work with the situation as it was. Frayner would now pursue him more vigorously than ever; Rob thought he was heartless, Queen Anne was too preoccupied with her daughter-in-law to give him counsel, Dufay was not in the country and King Henry had promised him worse torments than Frayner could devise if he did not quickly conclude his mission. He laughed. In truth, things could not get any worse.

  * * *

  Gwenette sat at her needlework in the Queen’s Privy Chamber. The previous night had passed with no alarms even though she and Alys had lain awake fully dressed on the bed until the birds fluted the onset of dawn.

  Her mind ran over the scene in the Queen Mother’s apartments when Luke had given her the ouch. Her fingers slipped under her sleeve to touch the adornment she could not show in public. His words to her that she was his friend and he would do his utmost to protect her both warmed and chilled her. A friend, nothing more. But a friend he cherished enough to safeguard. How did she really feel about that?

  Now she had ample time to consider her sore heart. That it was given to the apothecary was simple fact. That he did not return her feelings was equally plain but try as she might, Gwenette could not kill the love she bore him. After five years of knowing him, she did not think he would change now. And neither could she. She sighed and looked down at the girl beside her. Alys had fallen into a troubled sleep and Gwenette’s heart went out to her. Poor little mite. Instead of mooning about Luke Ballard, she would do better to try and reassure Alys whilst maintaining vigilance. Feeling the girl stir, Gwenette put a smile on her face.

  “Mistress Paige,” Alys whispered. “I am frightened.”

  “There is no need for fear.”

  “I keep thinking I see Edith.”

  “You are being fanciful, Alys. Edith is dead.” Even so, Gwenette looked round the room. It would not do to alienate her companion so she kept her voice soft and comforting.

  “Where have you seen her, poppet?”

  “It is as if she appears just out of sight and when I turn to look, nothing is there.”

  Gwenette pursed her lips. “How oft has this happened?”

  “Once this morning and twice in the night.”

  “Why did you not say something, child?”

  “I feared you would be angry with me.”

  Gwenette felt her heart contract with pity. Poor little moppet. Parted from a loving father through the machinations of a jealous stepmother and thrust into the hurly-burly of court. Down the years, Gwenette had seen daughters of good families sent to court to further family fortunes, but none so ill-suited to life at a royal palace than this girl.

  Still, going on the evidence of her own eyes the previous day, Gwenette was certain there was at least one person who had Alys’s welfare much at heart. Mayhap she could distract the maid by talking about Rob.

  “I wager that if you told Master Rob of your fears, he would laugh at you for a fanciful giglet.”

  Just as she had hoped, Alys’s face took on a dreamy expression.

  “Rob would never laugh at me,” she said. “Tell me, Mistress Paige, how long has he been with Master Ballard? What is he like?”

  “Not long,” Gwenette
said, teasing her. “I really do not know what he is like.”

  Alys’s face fell and her companion read confusion mixed with hope and fear in her expression.

  “I expect all the girls follow him,” Alys said in a small voice.

  “How now, child. Do not try to be cunning with me. Say openly what you mean. Leave such devious wiles to the others.”

  Alys blushed a fiery scarlet and began to twist her fingers in her skirts, unable to meet Gwenette’s eye.

  “Does Master Rob favor any particular maid?”

  Gwenette could not help teasing the girl. “Aye, he does.”

  Alys’s lips tightened. She swallowed and nodded. Gwenette felt her heart constrict again. She knew, none better, what it was to love and not be loved in return.

  “Nay, never fear, Alys. The one he favors is you.”

  “Truly?” Alys put a hand to her throat, her eyes shining.

  Gwenette stroked her hair.

  “Truly, child. I have only known Rob as long as he has lived with Master Ballard but, to my knowledge, he has never looked at another maid the way he does you.”

  “I am so glad,” Alys said. Hugging herself, she skipped back to the bed and began to tidy up the coverlet.

  Gwenette smiled at the sight of her companion’s happy face. For the time being, at least, she had forgotten all about Edith Brook. All the same, her assertion was something to keep in mind. Luke had warned her that the attack could come in the most direct fashion or so insidiously that she would not realize it for what it was until it was too late. Gwenette knew she would have to watch over Alys but at least if the girl saw Edith again, she would not hesitate to say so.

  Gwenette sighed and chewed the inside of her cheek as she thought about the affection between this girl and the apothecary’s boy. She would have given much, nay, all that she possessed, to have Luke Ballard look at her the way Rob Panton gazed at Alys.

  Chapter Twenty-Five