Taste of Treason

by April Taylor

  He was still trying to come to terms with this realization when Rob returned with Byram.

  It took their combined efforts to finally persuade the captain that they told nothing but the truth.

  “You sure this isn’t some ill-timed jest?” had been his initial response.

  Rob’s shudder and pale face appeared to convince him that they were in deadly earnest.

  “What do you want me to do?” he asked Luke.

  “You will have to do it alone, Byram. I can give you something to lessen the feelings of horror.”

  Byram raised his eyebrows. “If it is as you describe, I shall expect nothing less,” he retorted. “What do you want me to do with it?”

  Luke shuddered again. It was the most accurate description of what now lay on the chancel step in Hampton church.

  “I know that in your career you have seen the most appalling sights, that your mind is strong. For that reason alone I am begging you to do this horrific thing. If I did not think you could manage this, my friend, I would not ask it of you. It is vital that all trace of Frayner disappears. Use sacking and stout rope. Get the body to the river. Weight the whole thing with stones and push it into the middle of the current. Do not make the rope too long or the bundle may float to the surface and cease to be a secret.”

  Byram grunted. His face had grown paler, but he maintained his composure.

  “I suppose this means that Frayner was not the enemy you seek?”

  “No, and I should have realized that earlier. You described the atmosphere within the palace as tense. It must be someone inside the building itself. I have been wrong all down the line.” He put both hands over his face. “There is naught else for it. I must begin again.”

  Byram nodded and left. Rob, his face still ashen, sat with his hands round a goblet of the warm reviver Luke had pushed into them.

  “Do you think you can win through?” he asked.

  Luke pondered a few moments. “When I apply logic, probably not,” he said. “I think the only reason Nimrod has not destroyed me or gained his objective is that his powers have been spread too thinly.” He paused, frowning. “Or hers,” he added, remembering Gwenette’s theory.

  Rob shuddered. “I did not think his power at all thin the other night, and there was nothing female about it.”

  “No, but consider. He must have either been controlling Frayner or locked into the man’s obsession with witches. He would have to augment and direct that fixation toward Bertila, Corbin and me and maintain it. Not easy if, as I suspect, Nimrod has remained within Hampton Court. Bear in mind that Frayner has been flitting here and there. From Hampton to Hampton Wick, then the Tower. Nimrod has had to maintain constant vigilance over the palace and Frayner whilst bending Sarah Rivers and Edith Brook to his will. And he now has Alys in thrall, too. No mean feat, even for a sunderer with the combined mental forces of the phrenic constellation at his beck and call. Of course, it also means something else I hardly want to think on. There must be more dupes somewhere performing whatever mischief he deems necessary to achieve his ends.”

  “What must we do now?”

  “There are things we must not do. First of all, he will be frantically trying to find the Queen. He must not succeed.”

  “Surely he cannot do that with the precautions we have taken?”

  “There are few who know where she is concealed, Rob, and they are either within the confines of her hiding place or capable of burying the knowledge deep enough so that he cannot read them.”

  “You are sure of this?”

  Luke’s shoulders sagged. “It is more a hope than a certainty. I am only too pleased that you do not know. He would read you as easily as storm clouds. Now that he has shed Frayner, his energies will not be so depleted. I wish mine were not.”

  “So, what should we do?”

  “We both need rest. Exhaustion renders us of no use to the Queen or Alys. Let us go to bed and think out our strategy in the morning.”

  They were halfway up the stairs when an urgent knocking at the kitchen door had them stumbling back down. Luke checked Joss’s reaction, but the greyspring wagged her tail in welcome.

  “It must be Byram back already,” Luke said.

  When he opened the door, a shawled figure slipped through and uncovered her head. It was Gwenette Paige.

  “Master Ballard. I come from Queen Anne. She bade me tell you that she would not use the usual channels, lest the communication be detected.”

  Luke nodded. “That was wise. What is the message?”

  “She slipped into the Queen’s apartments this morning and spoke to Her Grace about Edith Brook. She said you needed to know more about the girl.”

  Luke bit back an exclamation. “Indeed I did, but not at the cost of your mistress entering apartments that are supposed to be deserted. That was not wise.”

  Gwenette’s chin lifted. “I trust my mistress would know if a thing is safe or otherwise, or mayhap you like none but you to perform deeds of daring.”

  Luke pressed his lips together to prevent a stream of angry words from flowing between them. He contented himself with pacing up and down the kitchen.

  “It is madness to even think about where the Queen is, and your mistress knows that. I do not question her courage, only the wisdom of laying open to our enemy the location we are trying to hide.”

  He paused for a moment, struggling to arrange his thoughts to calculate the consequences the Queen Mother’s actions might have. He must hope for the best and prepare for the worst.

  “Do you wish to hear this message or not, Luke?”

  “Since so much has been put at risk to obtain it, aye.”

  “Her Grace bids me tell you that Queen Madeleine chose Edith Brook as one of the maids who would attend the birth because she had a pleasing countenance and gentle hands.”

  Luke stopped his pacing and turned to stare at her with horrified eyes. Gwenette’s condescending expression changed to one of concern.

  “I see this means something to you, Luke. Tell me and I will return and tell Queen Anne. Master Panton, catch him.”

  Luke had not moved. He heard her words as if from the farthest end of a long tunnel. Hands pushed him into a chair as darkness descended. The desolation of a child’s sobbing caught at his heart, but, for the first time since he had become a Dominus, Luke knew he could manipulate the trance.

  “Where are you, Alys?” he asked.

  The voice he had heard in the chapel replied.

  “She is close. Danger threatens. Do not lose time.”

  “In the palace?”

  “You will find help where you least expect it. Trust your instinct. Follow your heart.”

  “Where...?”

  Luke opened his eyes to see Joss standing between him and his friends. He felt a flush of embarrassment when he saw the degree of anxiety on Gwenette’s face.

  “Do not fear,” he said in a gentler voice than he intended. “This cannot be the first time you have witnessed such a thing.”

  She shook her head.

  “It was so quick. Did you see anything that will help us?”

  Luke gazed at her without speaking. Trust your instinct, the voice had said. What was his instinct? The puzzle was as fluid as the ever-shifting tides. He looked at it and seemed to see one picture and then the next minute the pattern had changed. Rob, one eyebrow raised, handed him a goblet of wine that Luke knew contained his ruby restorix. He prayed that it would not be as strong as the last one the lad had made.

  His hand stopped with the goblet halfway to the table. The pattern. He could see it. England’s future. Priest. Distractions. The plagues. A half-forgotten remark by King Henry.

  “There is no time to lose,” he said, leaping to his feet. “Gwenette, back to your mistress. If I am right, we shall need her before this night is out. Rob, find Byram and bring him to the King’s apartments. Run.”

  Luke stumbled on the doorstep as a searing pain shot through his head. Another trance. No
, not now. He could not permit it. Heaven knew how long it would take to persuade Henry and time was a luxury they did not have. However trances are not so easily dismissed and he knew it was better to give in than fight it.

  From the instant he allowed himself to succumb he realized his error.

  “How easy you are to summon, Dominus.”

  The last word had been emphasized with a mocking silkiness.

  Luke answered with a bravado he did not feel. “I would hate to miss a chance of yet another encounter with you,” he replied.

  The high-pitched snigger he recognized floated through the aether towards him.

  “Oh, we shall meet again and soon. Just to remind you of who you face, I leave you with this snippet.”

  The air was rent with a terrified scream and Luke knew that Nimrod tormented Alys. Her next screech was one of agony, and Luke was only too thankful that Rob could not hear it. Nimrod was attempting to rush him into acting without thought. He wrenched his concentration to sweet scented airs and bright summer days and heard the sunderer snarl in frustration. Moments later, Luke came to, collapsed on his doorstep. With unsteady legs, he clambered to his feet.

  He thrust down the dread eating at the corners of his mind, knowing that Nimrod would detect it. Dufay’s attention had been otherwise engaged by the threat to the Quaynes. Queen Anne had been deceived into thinking it safe to visit her daughter-in-law. Despite their best efforts, the danger was now greater than ever. All he could hope for was that he could convince the King of it without need for lengthy explanations. Henry was not slow to act and he had courage. Mayhap that was what the light had meant by saying that he would find help where he least expected it.

  The yeomen on the King’s apartments refused him entry until the panting figures of Rob and Captain Creswell reached them. Within minutes, attendants had woken the King. Henry received them with an expression that showed anger as well as fear. Luke kneeled.

  “Your Majesty, I have no time to explain in detail. We must go to the Queen. I believe that she is in immediate danger.”

  Henry leapt out of bed and dragged on a silk-lined velvet gown.

  “Who?”

  “You once said of someone that he was a foxy gentleman you disliked.”

  Henry frowned. “Foxy? Reynard is French for fox.” He paused and then frowned. “Father Reynard? The Queen’s confessor?”

  “I fear so, Your Majesty. In numerological terms fox is the number six repeated three times.”

  All color fled from Henry’s face. “The evil one.”

  “Aye.”

  The four men broke into a run.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The first sight that met their eyes as they burst into the Queen’s privy apartments was that of her servants and guards, all of whom had been struck immobile. With a great roar, Henry sprinted into the bedchamber towards his stricken pregnant wife, who was in the process of being dragged towards the window by a tall black-cloaked, hooded figure.

  Seeing them, the enemy held up his left hand. An unearthly red light that temporarily rendered them motionless flowed from a bright stone set into a gold ring. Luke had already muttered a counter spell and although they stumbled, the hex had little effect.

  The sunderer began to curse, especially when the Queen’s gown became entangled in his feet. He pointed at two other figures standing like statues near the bed. Two girls. One Luke did not know, but he recognized the smaller of them, as did Rob if his cry of fear was anything to go by. But this time, the boy knew better than to try and rescue the girl he loved. Looking round at his adversaries, Nimrod dropped the Queen to the floor, whereupon Henry ran towards her once more, ignoring Luke’s warning shout.

  The demon held up his ringed hand, the forefinger pointing directly at the King. At once, Henry was held immobile and lifted from the ground, to turn helplessly in the air, obeying the twirling fingers of the sunderer. Luke stood motionless, assessing the situation, until he saw, in his peripheral vision, a slight movement. Byram was edging round the concealing darkness of the chamber walls in an effort to get behind the foe. How could he help the captain?

  Misdirection, whispered a voice in his mind. Luke gathered all his concentration and walked towards his stricken King, attempting every counter spell he could think of to distract the enemy.

  He smiled when he saw a slight frown cross his opponent’s face, but his satisfaction was short-lived. With a swiftness that almost took Luke’s breath away, the sunderer flicked his other hand towards the still figures. They stirred and only then did Luke recognize the second girl. Edith. Nimrod had used his evil to reanimate the dead girl’s body. Luke saw that Edith’s countenance was empty and vacant. She was dead but not dead. By contrast, Alys’s eyes told him she was fighting the enchantment with every ounce of strength she possessed, aided by the depth of her love for Rob. He sent up a prayer of gratitude. She was still alive.

  But her efforts to fight the enemy were in vain. Luke watched both girls move towards him. Malignant smiles marred their faces as they circled him, their arms extended so that he could neither reach Henry nor challenge Nimrod. Luke turned with them, his head moving from side to side in order to keep each girl in view. His blood chilled at the voracious delight he saw in their eyes. They began to close in.

  A furious roar shook the air. The girls faltered and stopped, their faces expressionless. Byram had leapt onto the back of the sunderer. Luke took instant advantage of the break in their adversary’s concentration to wrap a blue protection spell around the floating King.

  At the same time, he heard behind him the frightened cry of a child and saw Rob enclosing Alys in his arms. It seemed that this physical contact with so much unconditional love in it broke the devilish link between the two girls. In an instant he knew that the key to defeating Nimrod was love. The demon could not understand a concept where someone would willingly die to save another. Alys was safe for the moment. Now Luke could concentrate on saving his monarch.

  Henry dropped to the floor, unconscious. The sunderer, diverted by anger, turned his attention to the captain. Snarling, he thrust Byram to the floor and shot a bolt of foul magenta light into the prone body. Luke saw his friend’s face crease in agony as he began to crawl across the floor trying to escape the piercing torment stabbing into him again and again.

  Luke judged by Nimrod’s giggling that the demon found this new sport very much to his liking and took advantage of the sunderer’s inattention by formulating an even stronger protection spell to surround Henry and Madeleine.

  For a moment, Luke’s head dropped with exhaustion, but now he must rescue the captain. Panting from his exertions, he hauled himself to his feet, just as Dufay’s voice sounded in his ears.

  “You need help, my friend?”

  “No, sir. He has already threatened the life of Bertila. You must stay with her and I will take my chance.”

  Luke was unaware that he had spoken aloud until his opponent’s head turned and a cold smile lit his features. The hood fell back giving Luke a clear view of the demon’s countenance.

  Another reverse. It was a face Luke had never seen before, but a few moments’ reflection told him that the representative of Custodes Tenebris would not look like Reynard. Nimrod would need all his energy for the fruition of his plan. There was no need to continue the deception. Reaching behind him to send a final bolt into the still body of Byram Creswell, he turned and concentrated on Luke.

  “So, we meet again, apothecary.”

  Luke forced himself to smile. “Indeed we do and you are full as ugly as you were at our last encounter.”

  “Ah, but then we misjudged you, Dominus. We thought you unworthy of our notice. However, that is not a mistake I shall make, though your pitiful skills are naught compared to mine. It will not be an equal battle, and I shall take pleasure in ensuring that your pain lasts a good deal longer than it did for this puny creature on the floor.”

  “Since when did foul devils like you believe in equality
? You are lower than the filth of the streets. You threaten all that is good and I will fight you to my dying breath.”

  “Then prepare to breathe it. I grow bored. This is where it ends, Master Ballard, but I shall have some fun with you first, nearly as much fun as watching the poor deluded idiots screaming for their God when I began the sweating epidemic.”

  “I think not,” a new voice said. Luke turned his head in time to see Rob and Alys, hand in hand, placing themselves between him and the sunderer. “You will not harm my master while we have breath in our bodies,” Rob said.

  The demon laughed. “You have no power over me.” As he declaimed the words, his physical form grew until his head almost reached the high ceiling of the chamber, but just as it seemed the giant would overwhelm them, he screamed in agony. Luke could have cheered. The Gossamer Veil. Its frozen touch would burn more deeply than anything the demon had ever encountered. Master Dufay had helped more than he could have known.

  Rob and Alys stood firm, gazing up at the sunderer, whose face now took on a furious yet baffled anguish. He raised his hand again, but the expected red light did not materialize. He rubbed his hands together until sparks flew, but nothing reached the three people confronting him. With a howl he began to run around the perimeter of the room, shrieking in rage and fear until he metamorphosed into a plume of red smoke that darted across the chamber, smashed through one of the mullioned windows and disappeared.

  Checking that Henry and Madeleine were still under his protection spell, Luke ran to Byram, fearing the worst. His sigh of relief when he saw a pulse beating in the captain’s neck was profound, so much so that for a few moments his legs would not support him. When he finally managed to stand up, his first action was to release Henry, ensuring that he would not remember anything of that last horrifying scene. He also needed to throw a misremembrance spell in the eyes of the servants.

  “Your Majesty, I believe the Queen has fainted.”

  Henry shook his head as if to clear it and then clasped his wife in his arms. Luke took advantage of the distraction, muttering another incantation that soon had the ladies and other servants in the outer chambers stretching and coming back to life. Madeleine, too, awoke, giving a cry of pleasure and relief as she saw her husband.