QUEEN'S CHRISTMAS SUMMONS, THE

by MCCABE, AMANDA

  ‘I will meet you then.’ Alys heard the music crash to an ending, the cheers of the dancers, and knew she had to return to the hall before she was missed. But she was most loathe to leave John, not now, with the taste of his kiss still on her lips and the feeling that she was near his truth now. ‘You will not forget?’

  ‘Nay, sweet Alys,’ he said. Then he added, so softly she wasn’t sure if she even heard him, ‘I shall never leave you again.’

  She slid out from behind the tapestry again and moved into the shifting, laughing crowd. Lord Merton, as Lord of Misrule, was directing the acrobats to tumble around the Queen’s chair, making her laugh, and Alys was able to blend in as if she had not been gone. In truth, she knew she had only been behind that tapestry for a few moments, but it felt like years. As if the sparkling noise of the court was the dream and the quiet darkness with John’s kiss the only reality.

  ‘There you are!’ she heard Ellen call and she turned to find her friend making her way through the crowd, a merry smile on her face. She held her feathered mask in her hand and waved it like a fan in the warm air. ‘You quite vanished from the dance, Alys, are you well?’

  ‘Very well,’ Alys answered. ‘I merely needed some air.’

  ‘Of course.’ Ellen’s smile turned teasing. ‘Many of the ladies require a breath of air when the Queen is distracted. Their suitors wait for it.’

  Alys felt her cheeks turn warm. ‘I have no suitor.’

  ‘Certainly not! None of us do, on the orders of Her Majesty.’ She leaned closer to whisper in Alys’s ear, ‘But we are young, who can fault us for enjoying a bit of admiration? We must only be very careful who we admire in return.’

  Alys was confused. Did Ellen know about John? Or did she speak of something else entirely? Everyone here at court did speak in such codes, she feared she would never entirely learn it and wondered if she had missed something terribly dangerous. Just as John warned. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Not everyone is who they claim to be,’ Ellen whispered urgently. ‘The Spanish might be defeated now, but they won’t give up and some would aid them in such things. You never know what sympathies people truly hold. Who they really work for. Promise me you will be careful in the people you gift with your affection? So many men are dangerous, especially those who seem the most handsome, the most gallant.’

  Alys could only nod, bewildered. ‘I am always careful.’

  ‘I know you are. And so am I. We must be.’ Ellen’s smile suddenly returned, as light and teasing as ever. ‘Now, we must dance again, just once! The hunt begins early tomorrow...’

  Chapter Twenty

  As the long column of horses rode out from the palace stables for the Queen’s hunt, Alys paused to wait for a moment at the crest of a hill and gazed back at the scene. She had hardly been able to sleep at all after the dancing, her head so a-whirl with John and Ellen’s warnings that she needed the cold brush of the wind on her face to bring her back to the real world of the grey day. She had caught no glimpse of John that morning, so wondered how she could have obeyed his order to stay close. Yet it seemed there could be no danger with the Queen’s guards all around.

  The palace’s red-brick towers and chimneys looked like a forest of stone against the pearl-grey sky and the clouds were beginning to rush together, as if it would begin to rain. Some of the ladies were already wondering if they should turn back, but the Queen, a majestic figure in green velvet perched on her pure white horse, the veil of her cap drawn down over her face, urged them onward.

  The horses turned down the hill towards the Great Park. Its hills and meadows, no doubt lush and green in the summer, were a dry, stale brown now, streaked with veins of snow that had not yet melted. The bare trees stood like skeletons, frosted with ice at the tips like hard diamonds.

  But Alys found she did not mind the bleak, cold landscape as some of the ladies did. The fresh wind against her cheeks, the clean country smells after the crowded corridors, felt wondrous. It made her think of home, of her long walks along the beach and to the abbey at Dunboyton, and the freedom of that place.

  The freedom from confusion, as she always seemed to feel here.

  The long column of riders came to a halt outside a gamekeeper’s cottage, where the Queen’s hounds would be released. Alys twisted around in her saddle to study the riders behind her, looking for John.

  Ellen was a few riders behind her, her horse between those of her constant suitors, Sir Walter and Lord Merton. They laughed together and Ellen waved her crop in teasing menace towards Sir Walter. Ellen had said nothing else of her warnings about untrustworthy men. It was almost as if their strange little conversation at the dance had never happened.

  Alys finally caught a glimpse of John, his head as usual above those courtiers around him, the plume of his cap waving in the cold wind. He gave her a small nod and then was lost to her sight again as the gamekeepers came out to make their formal greetings to the Queen.

  The fox they were to chase was released, streaking away across the field as a russet blur against the brown and white of the grass, and the Queen shot off after him, her pack of hounds at her heels. Her speed and grace belied her years and she soon left everyone else behind.

  Alys spurred her own horse to keep up. The courtiers fanned out behind the Queen, an array of bright reds and winter greys against the sky, to cover the fields and woods in search of their prey.

  Alys laughed as she urged her horse faster, the wind catching at her hat, rushing past her ears. John’s horse galloped up beside hers and she caught a glimpse of his face. He smiled rakishly, the tension of the last few days vanished in joy at the moment.

  ‘I’ll race you!’ she shouted to him.

  He laughed and urged his horse faster, gaining on hers. Together, they leaped over a shallow ravine and Alys felt as if she was flying. Her doubts were all left behind in that moment.

  The hounds set up a howl in the distance and the riders spun around to follow the barking. Alys, with John close behind, raced deeper into the woods, jumping lightly over ditches and fallen logs, off the lane into the trees. Her horse tossed its head, as if just as happy for the free moment as she was.

  Alys laughed again as she pulled far ahead of John—just before a low-hanging branch snatched her hat from her head. She reined in her horse and tried to snatch it back.

  It was only good fortune that made her move when she did, for suddenly there was a low, humming whine in the air next to her ear. An arrow, flying fast, thudded into her hat just above her hand. She screamed in shock and pulled back, her horse starting up in fear.

  John leaped down from his own horse and dragged her out of her own saddle in what felt like only one movement. He carried her to the ground, his own body covering hers as his eyes scanned the horizon for threats.

  Alys was frozen with shock, her mind whirling as she tried to process what had just happened. ‘Was it a gamekeeper in the wrong place?’ she whispered. ‘Or—or someone looking for the Queen?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said grimly. ‘I see no one nearby now. We have to get back to the others.’

  He leaped lightly to his feet, reaching out to help her stand. She feared her legs were trembling too much to carry her far, but John lifted her into his own saddle. He gathered her horse’s reins before he climbed up behind her and led them both out of the woods towards the Queen’s noisy party as quickly as he could. He said nothing, but Alys could see the darkness in his eyes, the hard set of his jaw.

  ‘John, what is happening?’ she whispered urgently. ‘Is this what you warned me about?’

  He shook his head. ‘Just remember, Alys—stay close to me and always be wary. I promise I will keep you safe now.’

  Her throat felt dry, aching, but she nodded. Despite everything they had been through, she did feel safe with him now. She only wished he trust
ed her enough to tell her what was happening at court, what the real dangers were. The wind caught at her loosened hair and she shivered as she remembered her lost hat.

  It could have been so much more lost in that moment. Alys was determined to find out what was going on. If John wouldn’t tell her, she would just have to find some other means. But she refused to be afraid at every moment any longer.

  * * *

  God’s breath, but could nothing go right that day?

  The shooter lowered their bow and crouched down behind the tree to watch from a distance. The ignorant Irish girl had no idea what she was meddling with at court. She had got in the way much too often.

  No one wanted to be rid of her. She was surely too pretty for that. But sometimes obstacles had to be swept aside, ruthlessly and quickly, before it was too late. If only King Philip had followed such advice, the terrible blunders of the Armada could have been avoided and the Spanish would be here now.

  There was no time for bitterness now, despite the gall of disappointment. The next chance for Spain would be a better one, an unexpected strike that would leave Elizabeth and her traitorous friends helpless to defend themselves.

  Just like the Irish girl. She was lucky that time. They had been given faulty information. Next time would be very different.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  ‘Alys! Is that you? Where are you going?’

  Caught. Alys pivoted on the wooden step and glanced up the staircase, trying to smile as if she hadn’t a care in the world and had a perfectly good reason for being in the wing of the castle that held John’s chamber. She gave him her brightest smile and hoped it looked properly careless for court. ‘I had a small errand for the Queen.’

  He frowned and ran down the stairs to her side. ‘Surely you should be resting after yesterday’s hunt. You had quite a shock.’

  ‘So the Queen said. She has surrounded herself with even more guards now, though she declares it must have surely been a foolish poacher.’ She studied John’s face, but his expression gave nothing away but concern. ‘Do you agree?’

  ‘It could very well be. We are examining a few possibilities.’

  ‘Possibilities?’ Could it be someone trying to kill the Queen, or one of her important advisers? Perhaps a Catholic taking revenge for the Armada? The possibilities truly were vast.

  John smiled reassuringly. ‘You need not fear, Alys. No harm can come to you here in the palace. But surely you should be resting.’

  Resting was driving her to delirium, trying to read or sew or sleep in the midst of the maids’-room chaos. That was why she had come seeking John against all sense, to find some peace. But they should not be seen together. Any nugget of new gossip was like gold at court and reputations were fragile. ‘There is no rest in the maids’ chamber. They all leap about, practising their dancing all the time when they aren’t quarrelling or crying.’

  John laughed. ‘I can see where peace would be impossible there.’

  ‘Yes, I can’t—well, I can’t quite forget how it felt yesterday. It gives me terrible dreams. That arrow...’ Her words choked off and she shuddered. Going from perfect laughter and happiness to such terror in only an instant had been horrifying.

  John put his arm around her shoulders, warm and strong. His face was solemn as he looked down at her. ‘Of course you cannot. To come so close to death makes all else look and feel strange, as if nightmares are all that can be true.’

  Alys nodded. That was exactly how it felt—like real life had vanished and left only strangeness and fear in its place.

  ‘Come sit in my chamber for a while,’ he said. ‘I promise there are no maids arguing and leaping about in La Volta there. You can have quiet for a while.’

  Alys was quite tempted. She remembered his room from her ill-fated search and longed for its dim warmth, its silence. But was it safe for her to be alone with John again? Dared she trust herself with him?

  ‘I—surely you were leaving on an errand?’ she said.

  ‘It can wait. You are more important. Come, sit down, Alys. You look rather pale.’

  She did feel a little shaky. She took his arm and let him help her up the stairs to his chamber. It was just as she remembered, the sturdy furniture, the pile of books on the desk. Today the draperies were drawn back from the small window to let in the greyish daylight and a new blue rug was laid on the hearth. The bed, with its curtains drawn back, seemed to loom too large near her, drawing her imagination.

  John found her a cushioned stool and went to pour out two goblets of wine. ‘It is not the grandest chamber in the palace, I know,’ he said lightly. ‘I shall have to work harder to climb the ladder of favour. Mayhap buy some more elaborate doublets to catch the Queen’s eye.’

  Alys laughed as she took the goblet from him. To her surprise, he sprawled out on the floor beside her, his long legs stretched out on the rug. ‘I think your doublets are perfect. I hope you never decide on as many slashings and silver buttons as men like Lord Merton.’

  ‘Merton is said to be the height of courtly fashion.’

  Alys thought of the man’s towering plumes and gold-edged ruffs, and hoped that was not true. ‘At home they would just call him a strutting peacock.’

  ‘Do you miss your home?’

  Alys sat back on her stool and sipped at her wine, thinking over his question. ‘Sometimes I do. I’m used to hearing my own thoughts, following my own schedule, and that is impossible here. And I miss the sea.’

  ‘And what do you like here at court? Anything at all?’

  She liked him. Though she knew she could never say that aloud. ‘I admit I do like the clothes. And the food. Though soon I shall be so large from all the sugared wafers and spiced capons I won’t be able to wear the clothes!’

  John laughed. ‘That cannot be true.’

  ‘Perhaps not. All the running after errands up and down stairs balances everything quite nicely.’ Alys studied the chamber as she finished her wine. It really was nice in there, peaceful, far from the maids and the rest of the court in their never-ending noise and movement. She wished she could just stay there with John, cocooned in their own quiet space, all dangers closed out just for a while.

  Just as it had been at their old abbey dairy, their hiding place. But those cosy, intimate moments had been an illusion, with the fearful world right on their doorstep.

  ‘What do you like about court, John?’ she said.

  John stretched sinuously, reaching up to run his fingers absentmindedly through his hair. It left it falling in unruly waves over his brow, so boyish and informal. It made him look different from the perfectly polished courtier, younger, lighter.

  ‘The food,’ he said. ‘Especially those little apple tarts with cinnamon, the ones the cook makes look like little pastry flowers.’

  Alys laughed. ‘Is that all? Though I admit they are rather luscious.’

  ‘Nay. I suppose I like court because I can do something, do things of use and import.’

  Alys thought about what men did at home, farming and fishing and importing. ‘Your estate is not of import?’

  A frown flickered over his face. ‘It could be. Once it was the greatest manor in the neighbourhood, a source of employment for dozens of servants and tenant farmers. It was greatly neglected by my father. One day I will be able to restore it all, once I earn my way here.’

  ‘I suppose I am trying to do the same thing here. To help my family. My father has served so long In Ireland, but now he needs a warmer, safer place for his retirement.’

  ‘Did your mother like it in Ireland? It must have been quite different from Spain.’

  ‘She did often speak of the sun. But she loved my father very much and he loved her. They made a happy home together, even if they might have longed for some place different.’

  ‘M
y mother did not like Huntley at all and who could blame her? It was a miserable place with my father there. She lost much in her marriage.’

  ‘But she had you. That must have given her some happiness, even if only for a while.’

  ‘I do hope so.’

  ‘You don’t remember her at all?’

  He shook his head. ‘I wish I had known her. I like to think if she had lived longer, lived to see me grow up, I could have rescued her from her unhappiness. Given her the home she truly deserved.’ He reached out to take the edge of her blue-silk skirt between his fingertips, studying it closer as if some secret was written in the fine fabric. ‘Everyone deserves a home, do they not? A place where they belong. Yet too few are granted such a thing.’

  Alys’s heart ached at the sadness of his words, at the thought of families torn apart. Of John as a motherless boy, longing for warmth. Always searching, as she was, for a place to belong.

  ‘Oh, John.’ She slid down to sit beside him on the floor. He watched her closely, his eyes such a bright green, so full of swirling depths, like the sea itself. She felt as though she could fall into them and be lost, like plunging beneath the waves to find a whole new world.

  He rolled to his side, reaching out to cradle her cheek with his palm. His long fingers slid into her hair, loosening it from its pins. He caressed the long strands, wrapping them around his wrist until they were bound together. Her lips parted on a sigh, but she couldn’t move away, couldn’t even look away from his gaze. She was lost. He cupped his other hand to the back of her head and drew her closer.

  Her eyes closed tightly as he kissed her, as his lips sought hers with a hunger she had never known before. As if he longed for her, only her, as a starving man granted his one life-giving wish, and she responded with her whole heart.

  She moaned softly and as her lips parted his tongue pressed forward, seeking hers. He tasted of wine and of that dark sweetness she had learned was only his. It was more intoxicating, more wonderful than anything else she had ever known.