'The offspring of the tree try to protect their mother,' thought Lilith. 'That must be their primary biological function. How interesting.'
"William, set light to the trees," Lucy yelled.
Isabella said something in colloquial Spanish using words that Lucy had never been taught. 'I could translate them for you,' thought Lilith, trying to be helpful. 'Loosely, they involve putting your—'
'Never mind, Lilith,' thought Lucy. 'I can imagine the rest.'
'I doubt that,' thought Lilith, but she dropped the subject.
Isabella threw another fireball. This time, Lucy caught it on her blade, and flicked it back at the witch. Lucy had not quite got the line right and it flew over Isabella's head to crash into the house. Isabella was showered with sparks and burning wood.
Lucy glanced around to see how the crewmen were doing. They had more trees alight and blundering, burning creatures were spreading the flames. When she turned back, Isabella had disappeared. The house door swung shut behind her. Lucy pelted after Isabella to crash into a locked door.
Lucy kicked the door off its hinges. Inside was a large reception room with stairs leading up from the centre. Isabella ran towards the bottom of the stairs. She stopped and turned when Lucy crashed through.
"You shouldn't run so fast at your age," said Lucy, confronting Isabella. "You might pull a stay and rupture something."
Isabella threw something like dust into the air and said something too softly for even Lucy to hear. The dust dispersed into smoke that coiled lazily. It swirled into different colours and patterns that funnelled up to form a giant cobra that towered over Lucy. The girl jumped back as the snake struck at her.
Lilith saw the snake through Lucy's eyes. She could not understand how Isabella had transported such a large demon. She had not felt the surge of energy that accompanied an opening portal. In fact, she had not detected anything. Actually, now she considered it, she still could not detect anything. Lucy backpedalled as the giant snake coiled closer to her.
'Lucy, stop. The snake isn't real. It's a hologram,' thought Lilith.
'A what?' thought Lucy, confused.
'An illusion, it's not really there.'
'It cursed well looks there, Lilith.' Lucy dodged again.
'Isabella is buying time. Close your eyes.'
It was a measure of the confidence that Lucy had in Lilith that she did so. 'I hope you know what you are doing, demon.'
'Walk forward, Lucy.' The girl swallowed and took three long steps. Lilith was struck, not for the first time, by the astonishing bravery of her friend. Lucy had such a short life that Lilith would have understood if she had avoided any risk, so as to eke out whatever span she could. Instead, the girl walked into potential death solely on the word of a friend.
'Open your eyes, Lucy.'
The girl complied. The snake was behind her; in fact she was standing in its tail. The giant animal struck mindlessly into the empty air. From this angle, its form was more indistinct.
"The devil damn you, Lucy Dennys," said Isabella. She had something in her hand and a black vortex spun in front of her.
'That's the sea diamond mirror, Lucy. That's what brought me to this world. Stop her.'
Isabella pushed her body into the vortex like a woman walking against a strong wind. Lucy flipped her knife around and threw it. The blade struck the vortex at the same moment as Isabella vanished. There was a flash so hot that it set light to the drapes, and even the wood panelling. It was accompanied by a blast of air as if a great cannon had been fired into the room at point-blank range.
Lucy was knocked to the ground. The power was gone from her body but it had lasted long enough to protect her. She got up and walked to the base of the stairs. Her dagger lay there so she picked it up and examined it. Astonishingly, it was undamaged. Beside it was a flat traylike object. She turned the object over to see a highly polished mirror with an ornate frame set with aquamarine diamonds.
"Are you alright, Lucy? What in damnation happened here?" William entered the room and gaped. "My life used to be so unexciting until I met you, Lady Dennys. I sailed ships to the Americas, fought the odd battle against overwhelming odds, relieved the Spanish of the occasional trinket, nothing too burdensome at all, really."
"Isabella opened a portal," said Lucy.
"Like in my cabin," said William. "I recognise the signs. I suppose that means Isabella got away."
"Maybe," said Lucy. "But I shorted out the charge with this." Lucy displayed the blade. "And Isabella left something behind."
"I recognise that. It's the mirror I took off my last prize. It disappeared from my cabin with Isabella. Ah, I see. This is the magic artifice that opens portals to the Other World."
"And Isabella dropped it," said Lucy. "I wondered where she ended up?"
'Or when she ended up,' thought Lilith. 'Uncontrolled portals can twist time.'
While they talked, the rest of the crew joined them.
"Blimey, milady, you made a mess of someone's chambers," said a wag.
A man dressed in an expensive white shirt and breeches stalked onto the upper landing. He held a duelling rapier in his hand. Armed men followed him onto the landing, but he arrogantly indicated that they should wait while he walked alone down the stairs. "Who the hell are you rabble?"
"Captain Hawkins, may I introduce you to the Earl of Oxford. Milord, Captain Hawkins of the galleon Swallow," said Simon.
"I know you. You're that oily little clerk to Walsingham," said Oxford.
Simon bowed. "I am indeed Walsingham's oily little clerk, milord."
"What are doing in my house making such a bloody racket? I'll have Walsingham's head for this."
"I have come to arrest you for treason, milord," said William, mildly.
"Have you indeed? Only the Queen can order my arrest," said Oxford.
William reached back and Simon passed him a document. "As you see, my Lord, the Queen's seal."
"Indeed," said Oxford. He gestured to Lucy. "Stop gawping, girl, and get out of the way. Go about your duties or I'll have them take a cane to you."
He had clearly taken Lucy to be a servant girl. Obviously, he could not tell one servant from another. This, as much as the threat of a caning, told Lucy everything she wished to know about Oxford's treatment of his inferiors. It suited Lucy to be anonymous in front of Oxford's men so she curtseyed and removed herself to a corner.
Oxford strolled arrogantly down the stairs. "Hawkins, eh? I suppose you are one of that noxious brood from Plymouth."
"I have the honour to be cousin to both John Hawkins and Francis Drake," said William, bowing.
"No honour, Captain, to be the cousin of pirates," said Oxford, with a sniff. "And how do you propose to arrest me?"
William smiled and raised his cutlass. Oxford walked down the stairs and raised his rapier. "You men," Oxford said to the sailors "back off and give us room."
Oxford did not lack for courage, whatever other vices he had, thought William.
"Want us to shoot him down, sir?" asked the boatswain, who had no pretensions to be a gentleman.
"No, I will deal with him," said William, who did have certain pretensions in that direction.
The two men took a stance and Oxford immediately attacked. He was a tall man with a long reach, which he ruthlessly exploited. After the first exchange, William knew that the aristocrat was an accomplished duellist. Oxford unleashed a complicated series of offensive manoeuvres. William was slow to disengage. Oxford slashed him across the arm, drawing blood. The earl drew back and saluted with his weapon.
"First blood to me, Captain."
'Lucy, your captain is being outfought,' thought Lilith.
Lucy did not answer but Lilith could see her life signs move into panic mode. It was a measure of the girl's distress that she did not bother to correct Lilith about him not being her captain.
The men fought on. William moved straight to the attack, trying to beat down Oxford's lighter rapier. The earl pa
rried brilliantly and counterattacked. He soon had William on the defensive again. Oxford executed a beautiful feint and pricked William in the shoulder. Again the earl backed off and saluted.
"Second blood to me, Captain. Mayhap you should have stayed in Plymouth rather than trying the patience of your betters."
"Sound council, my lord. I will try to remember it, if I ever meet my betters."
They took their stance again. William was bleeding from two wounds. The first was bloody but inconsequential but the second clearly hurt him. The point is always more dangerous than the edge. Lucy eased her blade out and gripped it by the tip behind her back.
'That's it, Lucy. Bring Oxford down,' thought Lilith. 'No one will notice if you do it right.'
'William will notice', thought Lucy. 'I can't do that to him.'
The men had started the duel again.
'You can't save his life? What madness is this, Lucy?'
'Oxford might kill him but I can do much worse. I can strip him of his honour and his manhood. I can destroy him. All I have to do is help him, Lilith, that's all it takes. He's a man so he would rather die.'
'Men are such wonderfully illogical creatures. They are so handsome and exciting but do you not sometimes think that their irrationality makes them more trouble than they are worth?' thought Lilith, trying to distract Lucy from the fact that her sea captain was soon in deep trouble again. 'Why have you drawn the knife if you are not going to intervene?'
'To avenge him, Lilith, Oxford dies one second after William,' thought Lucy. I will kill Oxford if the boatswain does not shoot him down first.'
Oxford spun his sword around William's cutlass to get inside his defence and then lunged. The rapier struck William in the body and penetrated along the side of his ribs. Oxford relaxed and started to back off. William pulled his left arm in to hold the weapon in place. He stepped towards Oxford, moving onto the rapier, drawing more blood. William's face twisted with the pain.
Oxford looked surprised; one's opponent in a duel is not supposed to walk onto your sword. He impatiently tried to free his weapon but William had it tight. William had all the time in the world. He raised his cutlass high and slashed the earl across the neck in a single fluid motion. The heavy weapon cut deep enough to nick bone. Oxford fell without a sound. The weight of his falling body pulled the rapier out of William's side. A new flow of blood stained his shirt.
"Oh William, William, you're hurt." Lucy ran over to pull his shirt off.
The boatswain pounded up the stairs, closely followed by the rest of the Swallows. Oxford's leaderless and demoralised supporters put up a feeble resistance before crying for quarter.
Simon organised a party to search the house. The boatswain escorted the prisoners out. That only left Gwilym in the room with William and Lucy. Gwilym took his customary bodyguard stance by the door and took a keen interest in what was left of the ceiling decoration.
The rapier had glanced off a rib and ripped up William's side. Lucy reached under her dress and pulled off a petticoat. William could not take his eyes off her. She tore the petticoat into strips to clean and bind his wounds. She was very thorough. The slightest cut could kill through infection by noxious vapours.
When she had finished, she stood in front of him and looked up at him. Tears rolled down her cheeks. "I'm only crying because I am so mad at you. He should have killed you. I thought you were going to die in front of me."
"Shush." He wiped her face with a stray piece of petticoat. "Oxford was a duellist and a far better one than I could ever be. He was a duellist but I am a soldier, Lucy. He wanted to play with me to show his skill. I just killed him at the first opportunity. Thank you for believing in me enough not to help."
"Stupid male pride. Uncle is just the same. You are all the same." She stamped her foot.
"Thank you." He kissed her.
She did not move a muscle but continued to gaze up at him with big eyes. The same big brown eyes that he had noticed that first time that they met at the Swallow's gangplank. "Oh William, this is stupid. I can't let you kiss me. It can't be." But she still did not move away.
"Shush," he said, again. He lifted her chin with his hand and kissed her hard on the lips. This time she responded.
Act 18
John Dee's Cottage at Mortlake
The boatswain conned the barge carefully against the stone steps. Seamen jumped ashore with ropes and made the boat fast. "So this is Mortlake," said William, taking in the surroundings. The place was a pleasant enough hamlet despite its grim-sounding name. Supposedly, the currents and eddies of the upper Thames delivered the bodies of drowned men and animals to this bend in the river.
The barge had sailed up from London that very morning. William had the carpenter put in some additional seating for his illustrious passengers. One could hardly expect a member of the Privy Council to squat on the deck. Walsingham had spent the journey going through affairs of state with Simon. William would have liked to take the opportunity to talk to Lucy but had been inhibited by the presence of her uncle. Lucy had been rather cold and distant since the intimacy that they had shared in Essex. Indeed, the girl appeared to avoid being on her own with him. He feared that he had been overbold.
Walsingham signalled for him, so William hastened over to the spymaster. "That is where Doctor Dee lives." Walsingham pointed to a small cottage perched right on the bank of the Thames. It was in a poor state of repair and looked as if one good push could send the whole building tumbling into the water. "It is actually his mother's. Doctor Dee is indifferent to the normal luxuries of life and spends all his money on books and artefacts. I wonder what old Mother Dee thinks of having her son and his household dumped on her in her dotage."
"The Doctor is married?" asked William. "He did not look the type." William hastened to add, "I meant no disrespect, Sir Francis, it's just that Doctor Dee appeared to be rather too aesthetic for matrimony."
"You would be surprised," said Walsingham, dryly. "When he was at Cambridge Dee used his body as actively as his mind."
"Where's Lucy?" asked Walsingham.
"There, Sir Francis," said William, pointing to where Lucy had curled up against the stern bulkhead. Her eyes were closed and she appeared to be fast asleep. But they couldn't see inside Lucy's head.
Lilith crossed over the stepping-stones. One wobbled and she almost fell in the stream but she windmilled her arms in time to regain her balance. "You might have warned me that stone was loose," Lilith said, in a reproving tone.
"Lilith, you created this place for us. You pulled it out of my memories. How can you not know everything about it?" asked Lucy, hands on hips.
"Oh, I have a subroutine that formats the meadow." Lilith waved a hand airily. "You can't expect me to waste core processing power on such simplistic tricks. After all, I have—"
"An exceptionally large mind. I know, Lilith. You have often found it necessary to remind me."
"You seem subdued today. It is true that I am hardly an expert on human social interaction but your brain wave patterns are not indicative of happiness."
"I fear that I have made a grave error, Lilith. I made a solemn promise to myself that I would not lead him on and then I let him kiss me. How stupid of me, Lilith, how very foolish."
"I have wanted to ask you about that kiss, Lucy, but have been afraid to raise the subject."
"You know, Lilith, it says everything about my situation that my first proper kiss from a man should be observed by Gwilym watching me from the outside and you from the inside. Mayhap I should have arranged for it to have taken place in a theatre and sold tickets."
"Would people have really paid to watch such a short event," Lilith asked, puzzled.
"I was being sarcastic, demon," said Lucy. "You can be astonishingly literal-minded."
Lucy paused, "What do you mean by short? It was quite a long kiss, actually."
"About this kiss," said Lilith, refusing to be deflected.
"What?" asked Lucy.
"I just wanted to say that I didn't understand. Before I mean."
"You are not making any sense, Lilith."
"I thought I had learnt so much about human beings, when I studied your literature in the other human Shadow World. I read about love and hormones and passion but Lucy, I understood nothing. I just did not realise what it felt like."
"I trust you found the experience enlightening," said Lucy.
"For that one moment, my mind collapsed. I would have done anything for him, literally anything to keep that feeling. Now I know." Lilith paused.
"Know what, Lilith?"
"Why your people have such complex rules and customs to regulate behaviour. Why things are done or not done. Your passions are so strong, so overwhelming, that rigid conventions are essential to prevent anarchy. Can it really be even stronger for men?"
"How would I know, Lilith?"
"What are you going to do about your sea captain, Lucy?"
"I shall marry someone suitable and try to forget him. What else can I do?"
"I don't know but I doubt you that will ever put him from your mind." Lilith paused. "Incidentally, your uncle is shaking your body." The meadow faded away as Lilith switched off the simulation.
"Wake up, Lucy. Time to go ashore," said Walsingham.
"I was just resting my eyes, Uncle." She stretched and jumped to her feet.
"Careful, milady. The steps are muddy." William stood to hand Lucy safely out of the boat and onto the steps.
"Thank you, Captain." Lucy was polite but distant.
Simon followed her.
"Why does she blow so hot and cold?" William said to Simon. "I take three steps forward in her favour but then she moves two steps further away."
"You navigate treacherous waters, my friend," said Simon. "Make sure you don't leave your bones on a hidden reef."
The party made their way up onto the embankment beside Dee's cottage. In front of them, set safely back from the water, loomed the solid shape of Mortlake Church, dedicated to St Mary Magdalene.
"The church is new," said Lucy in surprise. Most English churches had been built during the years following the Norman Conquest. England's new overlords had ruthlessly torn down the old Saxon churches. In this way, the Norman aristocracy demonstrated their piety to God and also indicated to their Saxon peasantry that they were in England for good. In time, the new Norman churches became a conservative English tradition and the French-speaking overlords became a conservative English aristocracy—such were the foundations of the Dennys family.
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