by April Taylor
Once he had Frayner’s symbol, he could stand up in church in front of the worshippers and ask in a troubled voice why the priest had given him this trinket and had not had enough faith to rely on prayers.
Until he or Luke could come up with something more solid, it must suffice. Rob took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and set off.
* * *
Luke stayed on his knees, his head bowed. This was much worse than he had anticipated, and he was heartened by the sight of Byram kneeling next to him. In Luke’s experience, when one approached an encounter with apprehension, the reality was not as bad as the visualization. This, however, was more terrifying than anything he could have conceived. Under the cover of his reverential bow, Luke at last managed to flick the cork out of the vial.
“Speak.” King Henry’s voice became a little calmer, although Luke could still hear a dangerous edge of anger to it. He felt Joss’s nose nudging him forward and decided to gamble on his monarch’s innate sense of justice.
“Your Majesty. I do not bring good news, ’tis true. We had hoped to keep the Queen hidden from danger within your lady mother’s apartment. Events have convinced us that, although none can touch her, the source of the threat knows where she is.”
“And you are no nearer to identifying the miscreant.” Henry stated this as a fact, not a question and pounced as Luke hesitated. “Tell us we are mistaken.”
“If I said that I knew who it was but not who it was, Your Majesty, you would think I had lost my wits.”
“Another riddle? This is not the time for them, apothecary, nor are you our court jester.”
“No, Sire.”
A longer pause and then the king burst into huge guffaws of laughter.
“We think we understand. You know who it is, but he is wearing some kind of disguise and you do not know who is under that disguise.”
“Your Majesty is as wise as you are generous.”
“Speak to me in plain words.”
“May we come closer, Sire? What we have to say is for your ears alone.”
Henry nodded. Byram and Luke rose to their feet, the latter making sure that the open neck of the vial pointed towards the chair of state. Once standing in front of the king, Luke spoke softly.
“Sire, we need your permission to place the Queen in other quarters.”
Henry’s voice dropped to match Luke’s. “And if you do, how will you ensure her safety?”
“There are ways and means, Sire, and the Queen Mother is anxious to play her part.”
Henry’s eyes narrowed. “Have a care, Master Ballard. We would not like the two fairest roses of our realm to be put at risk.”
“I can assure Your Majesty by everything that I hold precious, the well-being of these two ladies is my first and only concern.”
“And catching the man who threatens them?”
“Once I am assured of their safety, Sire, I can concentrate my efforts into identifying and capturing him. Or her.”
The nip of Joss’s teeth on his calf reminded him that he needed to watch his words. Thank God for his greyspring. His tongue had already loosened further than it ought. He glanced up to see the King’s reaction.
Henry’s eyebrows had risen until they almost disappeared into his hairline. “Her?”
Luke could feel himself getting deeper and deeper into a situation where he would be forced to tell his King more than was wise. Henry was as superstitious as any of his subjects. If he knew that his Privy Inquirer had mystic skills, then the life of that Inquirer would be measured in hours.
No use telling his monarch that there was good magic as well as evil or to assay an explanation on the theory of balance in the universe. Much good that would do him on the rack. For that was where he would go, in an attempt to make him betray his colleagues. Luke felt that at a lick over six feet, he was quite tall enough.
Henry’s attention turned to Byram. “Captain Creswell, you possess a cool head under pressure. What say you on this matter?”
“Sire, I think we are up against a foe the like of which we have never before encountered. I would trust Master Ballard with my life and with him, pledge to safeguard the two royal ladies and your heir.”
“Master Ballard, where do you propose to hide the ladies?”
Luke grinned. “In the one place our enemy will not think of looking, Sire. May we proceed?”
Henry grunted and waved them away.
“Right,” Luke said as they left the King’s presence. “Now to divide the enemy’s scrutiny.”
In full view, they strode into the Fountain Court and up to the Great Hall discussing their plans in an undertone.
“We will sit at meat on the fringe of the room,” Byram said. “Once everyone is occupied with their trencher, we will slip out through the Horn Room and make our way to the chapel.”
“You do that,” Luke replied. “I shall leave as if I am going home and then swing through the Privy Orchard and come into the chapel via one of the east doors. If he has to concentrate on two of us, his focus will be so much the less.”
Without further conversation, the two friends parted. Luke slipped back down the stone stairs, keeping close to the wall. He sent out intermittent tendrils to see if he could sense any attention surrounding him, not daring to make it a constant surveillance lest Nimrod detect him. He felt none of the personal discomfort that usually signaled someone was watching. Instead, he felt a brooding presence, like a coverlet laid over the whole palace. Trying to chase it down to its source would only alert the foe. He looked at Joss, but she seemed undisturbed if a little more watchful than usual.
Luke pondered the strengths of each side on this battle for the greater good. Not only good, he decided, but the future of England. Ah, again that set off a spark of remembrance he was unable to pin down. The future of England. It depended on the safe delivery of the heir. The nagging thought sparkled and tantalized from the depths of his memory, but still he could not identify it. Best think on other things and let it float up from the abyss in its own time.
What he must do now was consolidate the forces at his disposal and safeguard the Queen. For the idea he had in mind that meant Dufay, Anne Boleyn and himself working together. His notion of the palace being overseen by a coverlet of evil had jogged his memory. One of the first things he had learned when studying for Dominus level was how to enshroud himself. He was sure that, somewhere in his studies, he had come across mention of a similar spell for concealing things rather than people. Luke racked his brains trying to remember where he had read the information. Something to do with heat and cold, he thought. That was it, the Gossamer Veil. He would ask Dufay about it, but first, he must reach his destination undetected.
* * *
It took the best part of an hour, but when Luke finally slid into the chapel, he found Byram already there.
“I have been thinking,” the captain said. “We must leave guards on duty wherever we put the Queen. How do we ensure their silence regarding the situation? If we house them elsewhere, it will cause comment.”
Had he not been inside the house of God, Luke would have cursed. Thank heavens for Byram’s practical brain. So intent had Luke been on hiding the Queen he had given no thought to those who would, of necessity, surround her. These would include gossips and servants as well as guards.
He sat down next to Byram and closed his eyes. This entire enterprise would need several spells running simultaneously, which, apart from the energy required to maintain them, was bound to alert Nimrod. Unless...
“I think I may be able to do that, too, Byram, but I shall need four of your best and most trusted men. Men who will do as you order without question. Tell them they have the future of the realm in their hands, but that they must tell their fellows they are being sent to another palace because rumor has it that the Queen is being taken in secret to Greenwich. Will you go and arrange that and order them to wait in the Queen’s old apartments? I shall be with the Queen Mother.”
“You mean to take her back to the place where you faced that creature? Surely that is the last place Her Grace should be.”
“On the contrary, Byram, it is the last place our enemy will look because he will think as you do.”
Byram nodded slowly and smiled. “I applaud your reasoning. The Queen will be in familiar rooms and that will put her at her ease. Moreover, the apartments are easy to guard. But how will you reconcile the Queen into going back into her original chambers?”
“I’ve thought of that, too, my friend, and you have no need to worry on any score,” Luke said, but forbore to explain.
As he watched Byram stride out of the chapel, Luke wondered if he could risk the enshrouding spell and walk across Fountain Court. As long as Joss stayed close on his heels and he moved slowly, all should be well. He could, of course, leave the way he had come, walk to the Mews and come back into the palace via the secret tunnel.
That would take time he did not have. He muttered a prayer for protection, followed by the enshrouding incantation and ambled across the courtyard towards the Queen Mother’s apartments. He had almost reached the door when, without warning, Joss leapt upon his back. He felt the blow intended for him as it coursed through her body and stood motionless with horror as she fell to the ground, her paws moving feebly and her eyes a mask of pain.
Chapter Thirty-Two
As Rob approached the priest’s house, his footsteps slowed. It was not that he was truly afraid although his stomach danced a jig of panic. His sole objective was to deflect Frayner’s attention away from Luke, find out where Alys was, and go and save her. If he went in unprepared, Frayner was clever enough to realize he was being hoodwinked. So, that meant he must give the priest something to occupy his mind. The only solution was pretending to betray Luke. Mention of the apothecary would be like rubbing a sore for Frayner. Rob grinned, stood up and strode towards the priest’s house.
Frayner’s housekeeper answered the door. She smiled when she saw Rob, but a confused frown played over her brow.
“Please tell Father Frayner that Rob Panton is here to speak with him.”
The frown deepened. “Are you expected, Master Panton? I know the father is working on his studies.”
“I have information he will be pleased to learn.”
An expression of what Rob could only identify as fear swept across her face.
“Very well. Pray enter.”
The housekeeper reappeared a short time later, the priest at her shoulder. His lips parted in what Rob took to be a smile.
“Enter, my young friend. Have you thought about our conversation?”
“Indeed, sir. I think we may accommodate each other.”
Frayner’s smile widened and he rubbed his hands together.
“Excellent.” He turned to the woman. “I shall not need you for the rest of today, Martha. Return tomorrow.”
She bobbed a curtsey, pulled a thin shawl round her shoulders and, with one long look at Rob, left the house.
Rob could see that Frayner struggled to contain his impatience. He could not help a spurt of amusement, which he quickly turned into an embarrassed cough.
“I have thought long and hard about what you said, Father. I would not wish to place my soul in peril.”
“As you will certainly do if you continue to consort with the apothecary.”
“I realize that, sir. Before I tell you what I know, you told me I might have the girl. Do you still say so?”
“I have no quarrel with her. You may take her or not as you wish, boy.”
“But she is gone, sir. I thought that mayhap you...”
Rob saw calculation come into the priest’s eyes.
“Tell me what you know and I will help you.”
Rob took a deep breath. This was the part of his plan that required Frayner to be the type of priest that only did the minimum needed to fulfill his duties. If, as Luke opined, piety was not in the man’s character, then all should still be well. He frowned.
“Sir, I find this difficult. Treachery is not in my nature.”
Frayner laughed. “Come, boy, this is not treachery. It is doing God’s work. Think you that He wants emissaries from the evil one threatening the redemption of devout souls who desire only to sit at His right hand?”
“Father, you said that Master Ballard is a sorcerer.”
“And so he is, boy, as you must know. He cannot have brought his familiars to the house without you seeing them. I am certain that the other one and his daughter are equally guilty, but, for the moment, I bide my time where they are concerned. My first priority is the Outer Green apothecary.” He clicked his fingers in impatience. “Now, come, boy. Spill what you have to tell me.”
“And you can pledge that his powers will not be turned against me?”
“I can.”
“How so? Do you have a protective symbol that I could wear?”
“Indeed. Come and I will give it to you now.” Frayner entered his study and walked to his desk. “I am more than happy to give you an amulet that will ward off the worst the apothecary can do.” He opened a drawer and took out a strangely shaped pointed object. “This is an Italian Horn and will protect anyone from evil spirits. Take it.”
Rob held out a reluctant hand. “I have watched Master Ballard,” he said. “He comes this way several times each week. Yesterday, I followed him, sir. He entered your church in Hampton.”
Rob could tell that this was the last thing Frayner expected to hear.
“My church?”
“Aye, sir. I dared not follow him inside, but I am sure that he uses the building for some fell purpose of his own.”
“This is good intelligence, boy.” Frayner turned away, gazing out of the window. “I will lay in wait for him, then I can catch him in the act of devilry,” he said under his breath.
“You are pleased with my information, sir?”
Frayner looked at him as if he had forgotten Rob was there.
“What? Oh, of course.”
“In that case, sir, where will I find Alys Palmer?”
* * *
The strength of Luke’s fear when he saw Joss lying on the ground was such that the door to Queen Anne’s apartments flew open of its own accord. Without thinking, he picked his greyspring up and cradled her in his arms. He rushed to find the Queen Mother. Flute, already sensing that Joss had been injured, ran to meet him, his mistress close behind.
“How now, Master Ballard. What has happened to your dog?”
Luke could hardly see for the tears that blinded his vision. “She must have intuited the danger to me. She leapt upon my back and the blow that was meant for me hit her instead.”
“Blow? Dealt by whom?”
“Nobody was there, Your Grace. We must assume Nimrod has us in his vision all the time. He hopes to destroy me by destroying Joss.”
“Let me look at her.”
It was with some reluctance that Luke laid Joss on the rushes before the fire. Queen Anne put a hand on his arm.
“Master Ballard, you will be of no use with this. Your bond is too strong for a coherent spell to work. We need Master Dufay. By good fortune, I have already summoned him.”
“We need him in any case. I have had an idea of how to protect the Queen. It will require our combined strength. But how can I function without Joss?”
Luke collapsed onto the seat, impervious to the fact that the Queen Mother still stood. Joss. How could this have happened? If Joss fell, he was destined to fall with her. Was that what this meant? That he would die trying to defend the Queen and her as yet unborn son? Luke felt unutterably weary, so much so, that part of him almost welcomed the prospect of being past his pain and together with Joss in paradise.
A flurry of activity heralded the arrival of Roland Dufay. He looked from Luke to Queen Anne to the still form of Joss on the floor, being nuzzled now by two greysprings, his own and Flute.
Dufay rubbed his hands together before kneeling by the stricken dog.
“There is no need for worry, Luke. She is merely winded. She took the brunt of whatever blow was meant for you. I need some wine and cloves, Your Grace. Might I...?”
Within minutes, Gwenette Paige returned carrying a jug of wine, goblets and a dish.
“I did not know what you required, sir. May I serve wine to Master Ballard? I have never seen him look so faint.”
Dufay looked round. “Wait.” He took a goblet, added cloves and a few pinches of something from his sleeve, together with a paper that he curled into the shape of a cone. The goblet he handed to Gwenette. “Give him this. Luke, it will go down better if you warm it first.”
Without thinking, Luke did just that. Steam rose from the surface of the wine and he upended the goblet draining it. At once new vigor seemed to flow through his tired limbs. His thought processes became sharp again and the lassitude and despair leeched out of him. Dufay had added another concoction to the cone and slid it into Joss’s mouth, before trickling the contents down her throat. Soon she shook her head and stumbled to unsteady feet, weaving her way back to Luke. He threw his arms around her, closed his eyes and rocked her like a child.
“Master Ballard.” The Queen Mother’s gentle voice interrupted his reverie. “You said you had a plan.”
“Aye.” He looked at Dufay. “I remember from my studies a mention of the Gossamer Veil. I know I do not have the level of skill to perform it.”
Dufay nodded. As usual, once faced with an abstract concept, he seemed impervious to the urgency of the situation. “I can perform that. You are thinking of using it on the Queen?”
“No. I am thinking of moving the Queen, her gossips, servants and guards back to her old apartments on the east side of the palace and the spell extending over the whole area.”
“I do not believe that has ever been done before.”
“Then mayhap now is the time to do it. Master Dufay, please stop thinking of this as an exercise in learning. We must succeed. England’s future depends on it.”