He controlled his anger with an almost physical effort. William was not used to being contradicted to his face in this way. When they married, Lucy would have to know her place. The rational part of his mind pointed out that the girl would probably have a very clear idea of her place; it just wouldn't coincide with his view. The stupid irrelevance of his thoughts made him laugh out loud, which broke the argument.
Lucy looked at him with a strange expression.
'A man who can laugh at his own pomposity is a rare catch,' thought Lilith. 'I like your sea captain, Lucy.'
'He's not my sea captain,' thought Lucy, carefully concealing her underlying thoughts from Lilith.
"I will do a deal with you, Lady Dennys. You can come with us . . ." said William, carefully.
Lucy squeaked and struck her hands together.
"On one condition," William continued, over her intervention. "An enterprise can only have one commander or it is lost. You will consider yourself a soldier in my service and obey my orders without argument. Without argument and with alacrity, milady."
"Of course, Captain. I shall consider myself your servant in this affair." Lucy held her hands meekly in front of her, the epitome of womanly obedience. She didn't fool William for a moment.
The sun was making one of his dazzling appearances over London. The early morning showers had cleaned the air and washed away some of London's waste. Now the sunlight glittered off the wet city and sparkled along the Thames. Around Billingsgate dock, homeless beggars stirred in the doorways and alcoves where they had taken shelter. Bright rays of light burst through gaps in black towering clouds. England's fickle weather gods were still undecided whether to grant the people of London sun or rain so were supplying a little of each.
A seafaring man strolled down to the dock and took the air. He positioned himself on a convenient timber and produced a pipe. That the man indulged in the new vice of smoking marked him as well travelled, an oceanic sailor, then, rather than a coast-crawler. Lighting the pipe was a long and complex affair. Smethwick appeared fully engrossed in the task.
A barge sailed up the Thames past the custom houses and legal quays that clustered against the river to the west of the Bloody Tower. The vessel was piled high with cargo that was covered by an oiled cloth. The crew of three lounged unconcerned on the deck. One still appeared to be asleep. Early morning barges like these carried the night catch from the fishing fleet to Billingsgate. Her Majesty's hungry London subjects depended on them and the first delivery of the morning got best price.
The seafaring man watched the barge casually. He took his cap off and stretched, waving the garment in the air. A man and woman walked arm in arm across the head of the dock. The man was dressed in cheap but flashy clothes. He clearly worked with his head rather than his hands. He looked like a pox doctor's clerk. His doxy was no better. She wore a cheap imitation of a fashion dress and her makeup was far too heavy for one so young. Possibly the white ceruse that covered her face hid the ravages of smallpox or, indeed, some other pox. The couple argued as they walked. She slapped his face. He grabbed her arm and pushed her forward. She stumbled and responded with furious accusations. Smethwick chuckled and pulled on his pipe.
The barge sailed straight past Billingsgate dock towards London Bridge. The master shook his head at the crew. Fishmonger's Hall, with its associated market, was just the other side, above Old Swan Stairs, but a fish barge could never shoot the bridge safely. That was why Billingsgate dock was where it was. The barge crew seemed to wake up late to their predicament and they hastily tried to turn the boat.
The couple walked up Stink Lane
, still arguing. The man dragged the doxy along. They stopped outside a doorway as their dispute reached a climax. The clerk held the woman by the forearms and shook her. The beggars watched with curiosity.
On the river, things were not going well. The barge's bow had come round too slowly. It crashed sideways into the embankment where a house overhung the river. Somehow the crew stayed on their feet. They flung grapnels up at the house's windows. The oiled cloth was flung aside to reveal men armed with pistols and cutlasses. The men clustered around the ropes and began to climb.
Smethwick blew a piercing blast on a seaman's whistle. The couple stopped arguing. The man stepped back. The girl jumped into the air and unleashed a devastating high kick. The entire door frame burst into the house with the door still attached. The girl fell down onto her bottom but rolled clear. All round her beggars jumped to their feet with surprising athleticism, producing weapons from under their rags. They disappeared through the shattered doorway.
One bulky beggar made straight for the girl. "You are all right, 'ighness?" asked Gwilym. The girl nodded and moved slightly as if to enter the doorway. Gwilym touched her gently on the arm with one finger.
"I recall my promise to Captain Hawkins. I will wait for his signal before I enter," she said, impatiently.
Gwilym and Simon exchanged glances. Any man who planned his actions on the expectation that a woman would keep her word was a fool, a fool who deserved all the grief that he would undoubtedly receive, thought Simon. Women were flighty, inconstant creatures. Blaming them for changing their mind was like blaming the sea for the tides changing. It was part of their nature.
William led the charge through the shattered doorframe, followed by a half-dozen Swallows. Clattering footsteps sounded up the stairs. "Spread out along the ground floor," he said to his men. "I will take the top."
He ran up the stairs. A door slammed shut in front of him. He tried the handle but it was locked. "If the maid can do it . . . !"
William kicked the door around the lock. Wood splintered but it held. He backed up and shoulder barged the panel. This time it gave. William stumbled as he went into the room beyond. He found himself on his knees in front of a man pointing a pistol at him. William looked down the barrel at minimum range. The man couldn't miss. Such an ending was always a distinct possibility for a sea dog, even one as successful as William. He was philosophical about his chances of reaching old age and had faced death before, but this time he had a sense of loss, a sense of unfinished business with Lucy Dennys. The man grinned savagely and pulled the trigger.
William watched the fuse come down on the powder in the priming pan. The powder ignited with a hiss and flash of white smoke. William closed his eyes waiting for the main discharge. It never came. The man's grin faded; he looked in horror at the misfired weapon and threw it at William.
William beat it away with his cutlass. The man threw himself at William in a desperate effort to escape. William struck him on the chin with the handguard of his cutlass. The man dropped without a sound. A sailor rushed inside, waving a pistol, and fell headlong over William's victim. His pistol went off and blew a hole in the wall.
William's voice bellowed through the broken door. "The devil take you, Harrison. Watch what you're doing. You could have shot someone. You could have shot me!"
There was a long pause then William stuck his head out of the doorway. "You may come in now, milady. We have secured the building."
Lucy and Gwilym walked over the broken door frame. Strong wooden bars had secured the door and they were still in their brackets but to no avail. Lucy's kick had pulled the brackets clean out of the wall.
"Oh dear. Sir Francis wanted to use this house as bait. I rather think that the damage will prejudice that. Only a very stupid Spanish agent could fail to notice something was wrong. Remind me never to annoy you, milady," said William.
Gwilym just smiled.
The sea dogs searched the house with their usual finesse. There were a great many smashing and breaking sounds. They had brought housebreaking tools with them. The boatswain appeared out of a front room that overlooked the river. He held a scrawny man by the neck like a kitten. In the other hand, he had a set of horse saddlebags.
"Matey here was shoving these out of the river window as I was climbing in," said the boatswain.
"This is what Sir
Francis wants," said Simon. "The important information will be in here." He opened the bags and pulled out folded letters and documents. "It's in code," Simon said. "That's a good sign. The papers must be important. It would be helpful if your men could find the decoding key."
Simon found stones at the bottom of the bags. "My congratulations, Captain, on your crew's skill. All would have been lost if this had gone in the Thames."
William said nothing but he was clearly pleased. He pulled up the scrawny man's head to look at him. Scrawny spat at William. "You'll get nothing from me," he said, spitefully.
"Oh good, a blusterer," said Gwilym. "They break quickly when you put them on the rack. It's the quiet ones that you have to use red-hot irons on." The man said nothing more but he turned pale.
"Sir, look at this," said a seaman to William. The man held a small chest that was securely bound in iron. "I'll open it," said another sailor and put a pistol to the lock.
"Stop, you whoreson," said the boatswain. Then to Lucy, "Begging your pardon, ma'am."
"You will spray us all with iron and lead, you fool," said William, angrily.
"Mayhap, I can help," said Lucy.
She produced her blade, Dee's dagger. For a moment she just stood there as if gathering her strength. The astrological symbols on the weapon glowed with red fire and the familiar sparkles gathered in Lucy's dark eyes. In a swift movement, she thrust the tip of the dagger into the gap between the lid and the body of the chest. The blade cut straight through the iron tongue of the lock as if it were paper. William flipped open the lid. Gold and silver coins gleamed.
William slammed the lid shut. "Boatswain, take you charge of this. Put it in the barge."
"So Ridolphi stashed the Vatican's pay-chest here," said Simon.
"I claim booty shares for the Swallow's crew," said William.
Some sailors cheered.
"Silence those men, boatswain. I will brook no indiscipline," said William. "Master Tunstall and Lady Dennys will get officer's shares, Gwilym a leading seaman's and Sir Francis the owner's tranche."
"I will get some money of my own?" asked Lucy, in excitement. "I have never had any money of my own before."
William was momentarily confused. Lucy was heiress to a great estate. She was one of the wealthiest girls in England. Then he understood. Lucy might be the heiress but Sir Francis controlled her estate as the law decreed. And he would continue to so do until she married whereupon her husband would own it all. Lucy had never had any money that was hers to spend before. Not that she ever went short of anything but she did not buy it. He had an insight into how her experience of life had conditioned her personality. No wonder Lucy could appear so sophisticated in some circumstances and so childlike in others. She witnessed some of the great affairs of state but had less independence or control of her life than a dockside tavern girl. He resolved to be more patient with her in the future.
The search continued but nothing further was found. William was about to call it a day when Simon grasped his arm. "Where are the cellars, captain? All waterside houses in London have cellars. Many old houses have underground tunnels as well, that connect to the riverbank or other buildings."
"Cellars," said William to the Swallows. "Find me the cellars."
They got to work but no amount of tapping on floors or ripping up floorboards could locate anything.
"Mayhap, there are no cellars," said William.
"Not likely." Simon shook his head.
"Mayhap I can help," said Lucy. She knelt in the middle of the ground floor main room and produced a diamond.
"I am going to work white magic," Lucy said to the men. "Leave now if it bothers you."
"Naaah," said the boatswain. "I always go to the wisewoman to get me boils fixed after a long voyage. Bit 'o white magic never did no harm to anyone."
Lucy nodded. "Please all be silent then, I need to concentrate."
She cut a circle in the floor around her using the athame. "Stay outside of this circle when I work the spell. I am going to use light magic to construct a cone of power. When I release it, the spell will track past magics."
Lucy paused as if trying to work out what to say. "Before I start," she said, diffidently, "it would help if a man gave me the fivefold kiss. This is difficult, you see, and the kiss helps focus the magic."
"That would be my job, Lady Dennys," said William. "What do you want me to do?"
Lucy knelt and placed her hands palm up on her knees. "You kiss me on the hands and knees and lastly my mouth. That makes the sign of the pentagram. You say 'I give you my power,' and it's done. It has to be a man, you see. Only a man can give me power."
William knelt in front of her. Then he bent his head and kissed her hands, her knees, and gently on her lips. He looked at her gravely, "I give you my power, milady."
Maybe he imagined it, but he thought he caught a sigh and a faint mist moving from his lips to hers as they parted.
She stared at the diamond and began to sing.
"My fancy did I fix
"in faithful form and frame,
"in hope there should no blustering blast
"have power to move the same.
"And as the Gods do know
"and the world can witness clear,
"I never served another Saint
"nor Idol other where."
She sang quietly but her voice seemed to grow until it filled the room. The diamond sparkled in time to the song.
"But one, and that was he
"whom I in heart did shrine,
"and made account that precious pearl
"and jewel rich was mine."
The diamond glowed brighter and brighter throbbing in time to the rhythm of the song. The light around the diamond rotated and began to send off spirals. William was reminded of a firework called a Saint Katherine's Wheel. It was a cloth tube of gunpowder wrapped around a wheel nailed to a post such that it spun freely. When the powder was lit at one end, the wheel was forced around creating a whirlpool of fire.
Lucy spread her arms. The tendrils of rotating light spread out, breaking through the circle cut in the floor. The men backed away in alarm. William strode forward until the whirlpool of light spun through his legs. He stood head up, legs apart, one hand on his sword hilt and the other on his hip. A tendril of light curled around his leg.
Lucy spoke, "Look at him, big arrogant man. I suppose he isn't scared of anything?"
Except that Lucy had not said anything. She still sang into the diamond.
"No toile nor labour great
"could weary me herein,
"for still I had a steely heart
"the golden prize to win.
"And sure my suite was heard
"I spent no time in vane,
"a grant of friendship at his hand
"did quite remove my pain."
Lucy's voice was in his head. A second person answered the girl. This was a woman with a lower husky sound. Her accent was passing strange. The consonants were hard and the vowels short. She spoke an English that William had never heard before.
"You are too hard on him. He just wants to show his men that there is nothing to be frightened about. I think your sea captain looks rather dishy."
Lucy's voice answered, "Dishy? Even your words for men involve food, glutton demon. And, as I keep telling you, he is not my sea captain."
"I rather think he is," said the strangely accented woman. "And you could do a lot worse, girl."
The light swirl moved past William and the voices faded away. Lucy continued singing.
"With solemn vow and released dove
"was knit the true tied knot,
"and friendly did we treat of love
"as place and time we got.
"Now would we send our sighs
"as far as they might go,
"now would we work with open ties
"to blaze our inward show."
Somehow, the magic had connected Lucy's mind to his. William also rea
lised that the second voice in Lucy's head must have been the demon that possessed her. William had not given much thought to what Lucy must be experiencing but he had not expected possession to involve womanly squabbles over men. Somehow demons should be more, well, demonic. Another thought struck him. They had been talking about him and the demon had been pressing his suit to Lucy. This was clearly a demon of unusual intelligence and sensibility. It still had to go, of course, but perhaps not quite yet.
The spirals of light spread out to encompass the room and the raiding party. No one else showed any reaction. So only William could connect to Lucy in this way. He had given part of himself to her through the fivefold-kiss so now they were entwined.
The room winked in white light. Traces of evil-looking purple and bilious green pulsed out of synchronicity from various places. Shadowy green and purple ghosts of men and other things faded in and out of reality, things whose forms were horrible to behold. An outline of a door appeared in purple in the panelling of one of the walls. Lucy raised her arm and pointed to it. "There. That is the source of the contamination. The cellar is there." Then she pitched over and the pulsing light winked out.
William caught her in his arms. "Steady, lady."
She clung to him for a second but recovered almost immediately. "This is getting to be a habit, Captain. Breathing, remember? I have to breathe."
He held her a moment longer than necessary and whispered in her ear, "Your demon was right, milady. I was just putting on a show for my men; actually, I was terrified. Incidentally, you are quite dishy yourself, whatever that means."
Her eyes widened in shock and she put a hand up to her mouth, "Oh!"
I have you, milady, William thought. He had the weather gauge on her for the first time since they had met. That would give her something to ponder.
The diamond was just a diamond again. Once the spell was over the hidden door was invisible but William had marked its position. He gestured to the boatswain who spat on his hands and seized a hammer. Three blows stove in the panelling to reveal a closet.
Lucy's Blade Page 25