by April Taylor
“At the moment, Luke, we must all rest as the enemy will be doing. I think it best that you and Rob return home. If the sunderer overlooks us here, we give him another weapon. Thus far, I hope that Queen Anne has evaded discovery.”
Luke turned, his fists clenched in frustration.
“Your Grace, I have been thoughtless and Master Dufay is right. We must go. Is Queen Madeleine safe?”
“She is. Leave via the secret passage. We do not want you seen around the palace when you have no business here. Do not worry overmuch. Master Dufay and I will protect my daughter-in-law. Your task is to destroy the threat to her.”
The journey home was made in silence. Rob seemed dazed but whether that was because of the pain from his arm or the disappearance of Alys Palmer, Luke could not tell. It was only when they had walked back from the Royal Mews and were climbing the stairs that Rob stopped and turned.
“You may as well tell me the truth, master. Alys is dead, is she not?”
Luke sighed. “Look, boy. If she had perished, I would know it. I do not minimize the danger she is in. It is clear that our enemy has her in his power, but it is equally clear that he has a use for her and until she fulfills that, he will not harm her.”
“It is Frayner.”
“How do you know that, lad?”
“Were you not listening earlier? He knows how I feel about Alys and promised her to me if I would betray you.”
Luke felt another rush of warmth for his kinsman and smiled.
“Yes, I am well aware of his blandishments. Fear not, Rob. We shall rescue Mistress Alys and put a smile back on your face.”
But Rob did not brighten. Luke gestured for him to continue climbing the stairs.
“Master Dufay was right. We are all too tired to think of solutions tonight. Let us arm ourselves with a sound sleep and see what morning brings.”
As Rob turned back, Luke wiped his hand up his tunic front and threw a cloud of sparkling gold stars onto the boy’s shoulders. Rob might not think he was going to sleep, but the minute his head hit the pillow, he would be insensible until dawn.
It was not until Luke sat on his own bed pulling off his boots that a bone-deep weariness swept over him. The only good thing that had happened today was that Elemagus Dufay had returned.
In truth, Luke knew that whilst Dufay might counsel him, when it came to the crux, the Elemagus was not made of the stuff of heroes. All he wanted in life was to study his magic and the power of numbers in the hopes that any discoveries he made would enhance the art of elemancy and enable the fight with sunderers to be on a more equal footing. Dashing from one crisis to another, giving battle to the enemy, was not Roland Dufay’s way. However, his counsel was invaluable, and Luke felt another weapon had been added to his armory.
Tonight’s adventure had been a close call, and it could so easily have gone the wrong way. Had it done so, his essence might even now be wandering, unable to go forward to salvation, powerless to do anything save roam in perpetual darkness. The thought made him shiver.
Why had his opponent not gone for the deathblow when he had the opportunity? Was it the Bibles that Rob had heaved at him? The thought gave Luke comfort and with comfort came a renewed courage. He believed with all his heart that he did God’s work for His greater glory. Clicking his fingers, Luke called Joss up onto the bed and as she curled around him, he fell asleep.
* * *
The next morning, Rob’s arm, though heavily bruised, was well on the mend. Sadly, his mind was still too full of Alys to attend to what Luke said. In the end the apothecary lost patience.
“Tell me, lad, would you like to forget about the wench for all time?”
Rob sprang up from the table, tears forming in his eyes.
“I love her. I will never forget her.”
Luke leaned down until they faced each other like wrestlers at a fair.
“I could make it so that you forget ever meeting the girl, and if you do not stop moping like some mewling scullion, I will. Get ahold of yourself. God’s teeth, one whiff of a petticoat and your wits desert you.”
“Rather like you with Mistress Paige?”
Luke stood up and scowled at his companion.
“I have known Gwenette a deal longer than I have known you or this chit of a girl. Have a care, Rob. I would not like a woman to come between us.”
Rob stood up. “I shall continue my duties, never fear,” he said. “But if anything happens to Alys, you will be to blame. Think on that, kinsman.” Spitting the last word, he stormed from the house, slamming the door behind him.
Luke sat at the table, his head in his hands. Once more, he promised himself that he would never permit a woman to have such a hold over him. However, that did not resolve his current dispute with Rob. Luke downed a jack of small beer and tried to eat breakfast. The entry of Roland Dufay was a welcome diversion.
The Elemagus took one look at Luke’s face and sat down opposite him, pouring himself a drink.
“I can see that not all is serenity in your house.”
Luke told of his quarrel with Rob. The Elemagus pondered for a few moments, before looking up and meeting Luke’s eyes.
“It seems to me that you have a chance to mend a fence, and I suggest you do that if only to grant yourself some peace of mind. And do it soon. This affair is too important to waste time and energy on a difference of opinion.”
“You are right, of course, sir. I will talk to Rob.”
“I must speak with you regarding last night. Although your thoughts were scattered and disparate, I read something deeper in them, something that I recognized as important even though I do not know what it is. Now that you have had an opportunity to sleep, please tell me the details of your meeting with this latest enemy.”
Luke took a while to gather his thoughts, then gave the Elemagus a comprehensive account of what had occurred. As he spoke, Dufay’s face grew more thoughtful, and when Luke finished, he remained staring into space.
Luke, recognizing that his colleague was thinking something, waited in patience. When Rob came back into the kitchen, his face still set in anger, Luke motioned to the boy to stay silent.
“Aye. Most interesting,” Dufay said after a long pause. He looked up at Rob. “I think Master Ballard has something he wishes to say to you, lad.”
Luke cleared his throat.
“Aye, Rob. You may rest assured that we will do our utmost to find and restore Alys to you. I spoke harshly, but that is only because I am anxious.”
Rob sat down next to his master.
“Nay, Luke. ’Twas me in the wrong. I know you to be a just man, and most masters would whip a servant who spoke to them in the way I did to you.”
“What good fortune that I used my only remaining whip last week,” Luke replied with a grin.
“Now that you have made your peace with each other,” the Elemagus began, “it is only fair that I tell you what I discovered in Paris. You need to hear this, too, Rob, for it affects your task as Luke’s helper.”
Rob exchanged glances with Luke as he sat beside him. For a few moments, it appeared as if Dufay was unsure how to proceed.
“You must know,” he said at last, “that good does not always win.”
“I’ve known that since I was a child,” Luke replied, frowning.
“I realize that.” Dufay’s voice betrayed irritation, but Luke could also hear the memory of an old hurt in the tone. “Do you think I might have a goblet of wine, please?”
Luke gestured for Rob to get them all a drink. The boy took away Dufay’s empty jack and brought back three goblets and a jug of wine. When he was seated once more, Dufay continued.
“Do you remember Kolby Verrall?” The question was abrupt.
“Aye, the Elemagus before you, sir. He died when his horse threw him.”
“No, Luke. He died because he was the last target of a unique group of sunderers and I, in my ignorance, did nothing to help him.” He raised his gaze from the table and star
ed into Luke’s eyes. “You know of Custodes Tenebris, but I have discovered they now have an inner circle of sunderers who come together when the stakes are high. They will have concluded that you would be given this latest investigation. This inner circle I spoke of will have two aims, the first, to cause England to fall into chaos.”
Luke swallowed. “And the second?”
“To cast you into outer darkness, just as they did Kolby.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Luke stared at the Elemagus in silence, digesting this terrifying news.
“But surely other elemancers have bested them,” he said eventually.
Dufay steepled his fingers.
“My Parisian counterpart, Marc Benoit, has an effective spy network that runs throughout Europe. Sunderers have been in existence in one form or another for many centuries. From time to time, they are reenergized by contact with other groups, such as the Knights Templar and, we believe, the Spanish Inquisition. But for the main part they act alone and for their own ends.”
“Tell me about Master Verrall. I met him only a few times.”
“Kolby was my friend. He kept his doings a close secret but I knew he was working on something that would be a significant blow against the enemy. He died fighting them. He lost the battle, but he also lost his soul and wanders through time tormented by sunderers.”
“How do you know this, sir?”
“Elemagus Benoit had a dispatch from one of his spies. The informant was taken, but not before he had sent the message. When Custodes Tenebris perceive a major threat, they come together in a merge of minds called a phrenic constellation. Last year you defeated a powerful kaygin. They have marked you for destruction and eternal suffering at their hands, just as they did Kolby.”
Luke bit his lip and attempted to control his breathing. If this were to be his destiny, then so be it. No time for fear, only determination and action.
“I see,” he said in an even tone.
The Elemagus looked into his drink.
“I have never forgiven myself over Kolby’s death. I swear you will not perish unaided or alone as he did. Should you fall into their evil hands, they will not kill you quickly, but play with you, as a cat would torment a bird. The more desperate your struggles, the more they will torture you. Your calls to God for aid will only revitalize their energy. I must try to find a way to circumvent them.”
“Can’t Luke use the sentence of deliverance you taught me, sir?” Rob asked.
“That does not work for elemancers, lad.”
“Why?”
“Because they expect an elemancer to fight them with his or her magic and take precautions, but those precautions are not needed for ordinary folk, which gives you time to say the sentence should the need arise, because they will not be anticipating it.”
“They would expect me to invoke God’s help,” Luke interrupted.
“Aye,” Dufay replied.
“What would happen if I did not?”
Dufay gazed at Luke, his expression one of puzzlement.
“Surely if I did not struggle and pray, they would not only become weaker, expecting to feed on my fear, but they would also become enraged. Can we not use that energy to create a curtain between them and me? It need only last a few moments, enough time for me to summon the lords of light and be safely delivered to God.”
“Luke, that is a brilliant idea. Let me think.” Dufay paused, stroking his chin. “Yes, I believe we could make that work.”
Luke nudged Rob, ensuring that he kept his tone light. “And you, Master Panton. What do you think of this desperate situation?”
“You always tell me that the universe depends on balance, Luke. If so, then it seems to me that we must see this through and redress the balance. There is one thing I don’t understand. Why, if Nimrod wants ultimate power, does he not take over the King?”
“A fine question, Rob,” Dufay said and turned to Luke. “What would your answer be?”
Luke realized his logic was being tested and thought before he spoke.
“No nation would tolerate for long a King who sowed strife and discord in his own kingdom,” he began. “I imagine the sunderer would soon become bored. Much more pleasurable to put kingdoms at war with each other, and from what you tell us, sir, I begin to think that the aim of Custodes Tenebris is to plunge Europe into a devastating war where the only victors will be controlled by the sunderers.”
Dufay patted his shoulder.
“You have come a long way from the raw journeyman elemancer of last year. I think you are right. So, Master Panton, do you still wish to stay with Luke?”
“It is simpler for me, sir. Whilst they hold Alys, I care not about my body, still less my immortal soul. We know more about our enemy, true, but it changes nothing.”
“I agree,” Luke replied, exchanging grim nods with Rob. “We fight on. I assume Nimrod is a member of this phrenic constellation?”
“I am sure of it. I will do my utmost to help you though you know I am no warrior. My role will be to stay in the background, but never think that you are alone. This is more than a fight between good and evil. I believe it to be a confrontation between God and Satan.”
“That is why the Bibles were so effective. If Master Dufay speaks true, lad, you saved me last night.”
“Had I listened to you as I should, that thing would never have got to me,” Rob muttered.
“So we both learned a lesson.” Luke clapped Rob on the back. “Now, you go about your duties with a smiling face and I will visit Master Quayne and Mistress Bertila to see if their health improves.”
Dufay sat forward, his face alert. “Mistress Bertila? Is she ailing?”
“Ah, that is one piece of news I have not yet had time to tell you. It is a sorry tale and has many questions attached to it that may well concern my investigation.”
Luke watched Dufay’s face grow more pinched and pale as he recounted the ordeals that Corbin and Bertila had suffered. When he had finished, Dufay made no response and Luke could not restrain himself from asking the question burning on his lips.
“Sir, I can see that the news of my friends affects you deeply but I do not understand why.”
The Elemagus sat shaking his head slowly from side to side.
“This is all my doing,” he said.
“How so?”
“We strive for the balance, Luke. Mistress Bertila has a beautiful nature. It seemed so natural to make her face blemish-free, but it was arrogant of me to trample on God’s will, and instead of punishing me, the chastisement has been visited on the Quaynes.”
“Sir, you speak in riddles. How can this be your fault? The responsibility is Frayner’s.”
Dufay leaned across the table and grasped Luke’s arm.
“Do you think they are still in danger from this priest?”
“He has sworn vengeance on all three of us.”
Dufay leapt to his feet.
“Then I must not tarry. Should you have need of me for the rest of the day, Luke, I shall be with Master Corbin.”
“What about the threat to the Queen?”
Dufay turned at the door, his face pale and agitated.
“If you have need of me, I will come, but you and Her Grace should well be able to safeguard the Queen.”
Luke and Rob sat staring as the door closed behind him.
“Seems to me, Master, that I am not the only one stricken.”
“Do not talk nonsense. Master Dufay suffers natural feelings of guilt. He made Bertila’s scar disappear, an act of kindness, and by doing so left her at the mercy of a miscreant like Frayner. That is all.”
Rob grinned. “Aye, Master. ’’Course it is.”
“Go and dabble in the ashes and make some soap, boy, and when you have, wash your mouth out with it.”
Rob went to do his bidding, a huge grin splitting his face. Luke sat and considered the strange behavior of the Elemagus. Surely Rob could not be right? Why, Dufay was at least twenty years ol
der than Bertila. And plenty of matches took place with that age gap, his mind replied. Nay, it had to be something else. Guilt, it must be guilt. Guilt, pure and simple. Dufay had acted out of compassion and the result had brought pain and trouble down on Corbin and Bertila. Master Dufay was angry with himself, nothing more, nothing less.
One good thing had come out of the Elemagus’s headlong rush to the Quayne house. Luke need not worry about his friends now. Dufay could protect them, leaving him to concentrate on clarifying the role Frayner played in this tangle. It was all very well to be certain in his own mind that the priest was Nimrod, but that was not proof.
He assumed the Queen was still wherever Anne Boleyn had hidden her. It would be a sound notion to speak to the latter, and he ought to question Gwenette about her ordeal. He went upstairs, grinning at Rob struggling to separate the white ash from the previous day’s fire and throw it in the pot of boiling water. Much as Rob knew of Luke’s skills, it was still wiser to carry out some spells in private and this was one of those. Within moments, he was speaking to Queen Anne and gained her permission to come to the royal apartments.
* * *
When Luke pulled back the velvet curtain hanging over the door to the secret passage, Queen Anne was attended only by Gwenette who sat on a cushion at her feet looking pale and tired. After bowing, Luke hurried over to his friend.
“You should be resting, Mistress Paige. I was worried when I did not find you in the chapel.”
Grace said nothing, but a wan smile warmed her features.
“There is no need for concern, Master Ballard. We look after our own,” the Queen Mother said.
“I did not think anything else, Madam.” He turned back to Gwenette. “Do you feel up to a few questions?”
Gwenette’s already ashen face grew even paler.
“I am not ready to revisit last night. It is too confused, and when I try, my fear overwhelms me.”
After a glance at the Queen Mother, Luke seated himself on the floor beside Gwenette.
“You do not need to talk of that. I believe that there is something I have missed, something from earlier.”
“What?”