He had been betrayed. Sister Adelita must have gone straight to the authorities and informed them he was on his way to the cathedral. He had looked in her eyes and convinced himself he could trust her, but it had been a stupid, naive mistake that might well cost him his life, and England its survival. Nathaniel had always told him he allowed women to make a fool of him.
The search party drew closer on every side, methodically closing off his escape routes. Will tested the handles of the nearest doors, but they were all locked.
He drew his sword, but knew that in a fight he would be overpowered within moments. As he searched for some route he may have missed, a figure stepped out before him.
He thrust his sword instinctively. When he saw it was Sister Adelita, he halted the blade a fraction of an inch from her throat. She swallowed when she realised how close to death she was. “If you wish to keep your freedom, you must follow me,” she said.
“So you can betray me again?”
“If I had betrayed you once, I would not be here.” Her eyes flashed.
Accepting the logic of her statement, he nodded and sheathed his sword. “Lead on.”
Sister Adelita led him back down the alley towards the sound of approaching feet. Will briefly wondered once more if he was mistaken to trust her, but then she opened a rickety wooden door that led into a small, well-kept courtyard where herbs grew in stone troughs surrounded by alabaster statues. On the steps to the kitchen, a suntanned old man flashed Sister Adelita a toothless smile as she passed.
“The almshouses,” she whispered, “provided by our convent for the sick and the needy.”
Still wary that he was being led into some kind of trap, Will kept a close watch on the surrounding rooms as they moved through the cool house. At the front, Sister Adelita waited until all the foot soldiers had passed and then hurried Will out beyond the edge of the closing net.
“I should not be seen talking to you—” she began.
“I agree. Come with me—I have a safe haven, a house we have seized. The owner is unaware of our presence,” Will lied.
Back at de Groot’s, Will entered first and waved the Dutchman out of the back of the house so he would not be identified. Sister Adelita was so troubled she probably would not have noticed him. Clearly unsure whether she was doing the right thing, she clutched her rosary so hard her knuckles were white.
Launceston waited alone in the front room, keeping watch through the window.
“Where are the others?” Will asked.
“Mayhew has lost his mind. He began to curse and cry, and then ran off into the alleys. Carpenter has given pursuit.”
Carpenter could have alerted the Spanish authorities—he knew of Will’s destination, Will thought, but then he eyed Launceston, as unreadable as ever, who had also been left alone and had the opportunity for betrayal. Who could he trust?
“I must have words with Sister Adelita, who has proven a friend in our time of need,” Will said. “If there is any sign of the soldiers drawing near, inform me immediately.”
Will took Sister Adelita to a bedroom where they could have some privacy. She initially appeared uncomfortable at being in such a place with a man, but it quickly passed.
“I would thank you for coming to my aid,” he said. “What made you change your mind?”
She gave him an honest look filled with such pain that he was taken aback. “I can see you are a good man, if misguided.” She swallowed to damp down the emotion that was close to the surface. “We are all misguided at some time.”
“I wish no harm personally to your brother, or to you,” he said gently, “but there are bigger things at play that dwarf us all.”
She nodded slowly. “This is not the life I would have chosen for myself. But someone had to make amends.” She searched his face for a moment as she weighed her next words, and then grabbed his shirt with an edge of desperation. “You know of the night-visitors. I see it.”
“Night-visitors?”
“Do not play with me! I am no girl!” Her eyes flashed with passion once more, and she pulled herself closer to him with the hand entangled in his shirt. “The ones who watch from the dark fields. The meddlers, the invisible hand that continually steers us onto the rocks, the tempters and the tormenters. The Fair Folk,” she added with bitter irony.
“The Unseelie Court.” He placed his hand on the back of hers; it was trembling. “They are our Enemy. It is my life’s work to oppose them. A secret war has been fought between England and these damnable predators for a great many years, and now it is on the brink of becoming an open battle.”
“You fight them!” Her large eyes glistening, she pressed herself against him so he could feel the shape of her body through her thin dress. “My brother forged an unholy alliance with them. Or rather Spain has, sanctioned by the king. We have grown fat on the riches from the New World, and cannot bear to lose them to England, and so we will do anything to protect our status. But the ends do not justify the means!”
He put his arms around her to comfort her, and she allowed her head to rest on his shoulder. He imagined it had been a long time since she had felt the comforting warmth of another’s embrace.
“I fear for my brother,” she said softly. “He is a loyal subject of the king, and will do whatever he is told in the pursuit of his business of spying. All must be sacrificed for the future of Spain! But God is greater than our country, and the king, and men, and God would not wish us to do deals with these devils to keep us in gold and silver, or even to bring the one true religion back to England.”
“You discussed this with your brother?”
Nodding, she gripped him tighter. “We argued, and fought, but he would never see reason. Our father disappeared when we were young, and since then he has grown hard, and driven.”
Will understood Don Alanzo a little more in that moment. Had the Unseelie Court taken their father? Was Don Alanzo now allying himself with the Enemy to get his father back?
“I was set to be wed,” Sister Adelita continued, “and on the day before my marriage I told my brother he must break off all dealings with those vile things or I would be forced to do penance for the sake of my family. He refused, and so I left behind my love and my heart and came here to the convent. And still my brother continued along his path to damnation.” She stifled a sob. “Does he think so little of me?”
“Men like us are pulled by greater currents. Our lives, and our desires, our hopes and dreams, become as nothing next to the demands and responsibilities placed upon us. I am sure your brother cares for you deeply. I am equally sure he feels he has no choice in the course that he follows.”
She softened against him. “When my brother came to me the other day, he seemed changed … hopeful. He told me he may soon have good news for me.”
The destruction of England, Will thought.
“And he said he hoped my penance at the convent would soon come to an end.”
“You would break your vows?”
“I … I do not know. I believe … I have given my life to God. I never expected, or hoped for, anything to change.” She looked briefly into his face, and then kissed him, softly at first, but then with increasing passion.
After a moment, he pulled away, though she fought to keep him in an embrace. Gently, he prised her from him. “I am a man of easy morals, but you will regret this if we continue,” he said. “I would not wish that upon you.”
She bowed her head in shame, but he raised her chin and added, “There is no shame in honest emotion. This business makes us into people we are not. It ruins lives, and forces us to battle with ourselves along the road to misery. We deserve better, all of us. Do not think badly of yourself, Sister Adelita.”
She allowed herself a slight smile, but her breath was still short with passion. “One day we can all be who we are.”
He nodded in agreement without really believing it. The war would never end, he was sure of that. There would be battles and bloodshed and death, but it
would continue as long as men were men and the Unseelie Court were whatever they were, both sides led on by their own weaknesses. To fight without hope of victory, to fight without truly knowing the reason for that fight, was the very definition of madness, but as long as it was a shared madness there would be no end to it.
“Did your brother give you any reason for his hope? Any information that might help me?” he asked.
“He sought my aid. There is a priest in Cadiz who is known for his struggles with the Devil. He undertook the rite of exorcism for the soul of a young girl in Arcos de la Frontera and cast out several demons, and he is knowledgeable in matters of the occult and those who practice such things. Father Celino is often petitioned by the local people, but many of their requests are frivolous and so he will only consider matters on recommendation.”
“And your brother asked you to recommend him to this priest?”
She nodded. “He met him at the cathedral. I do not know what they discussed, but later that night my brother left for Seville in a great hurry.”
“Then I would wish to meet with this Father Celino.”
Her face fell, and Will knew that if she recommended him to the priest she would be accused of aiding a foreign spy, and that would likely mean her death.
He held her for a moment longer and then guided her back to the front room where Launceston still watched the street. The door crashed open as they entered, and Carpenter burst in dragging Mayhew, who threw himself free and stalked to the corner of the room, shifting sheepishly.
“Do not accuse me!” Mayhew jabbed his finger at each of them in turn. “I needed air and some time to gather my thoughts!”
Carpenter toyed with his knife, his eyes flickering between Will and Launceston, who also had his hand on his hidden dagger.
Will stepped before Mayhew to calm the situation. “We need to know you will not drag us down to hell, Master Mayhew,” Will said calmly. “Your absolute support is required in this work. We cannot afford your personal weaknesses to lead us to disaster.”
“Or what? What will you do?” Mayhew raged. “Kill me? Do it! Nothing can be worse than this life!”
Without hesitation, Sister Adelita stepped by Will and took Mayhew’s hand. He was surprised and unbalanced by her touch, his anger dying in his throat. “You have troubles,” she said. “I have spoken to your friend here, and I understand what you do. It is God’s work, and that is never easy, but the rewards are shared by all.”
Tears sprang to Mayhew’s eyes, and he blinked them away quickly before the others saw it as a sign of weakness. “I do not do God’s work,” he replied quietly. “I am weak, and I am not up to this.”
Sister Adelita looked to Will and said, “Let me speak with him in private while you make your arrangements. If you wish me to make recommendations to Father Celino, I will.”
Will agreed, but he had already started to formulate a plan. Once Mayhew had been led away, Carpenter said vehemently, “He will be the death of us, I tell you now.”
“Then let him stand in line. There are more pressing matters that could lead us to the grave,” Will said.
“How long are you going to keep protecting him?” Carpenter snapped.
“Till I am certain he is a danger to us. I am not so quick in taking the life of a fellow as you, Master Carpenter.”
“No, but you are quick to abandon them.”
“You know I thought you dead.”
Bristling, Carpenter made to confront Will until Launceston stepped between them. “Is this how it will be? We do the work of the Enemy and the Spaniards ourselves?”
“Listen to the voice of reason, Master Carpenter,” Will said.
“Besides, I can slit Mayhew’s throat in an instant if he truly becomes a problem,” Launceston continued.
Will sighed. “Enough talk of slitting and cutting and stabbing the people we know. Let us direct our attention to the matter at hand.”
Sister Adelita emerged with Mayhew shortly after. Whatever she had said to him, he had calmed considerably and was contrite. Offering his apologies, he promised not to give in to his weaknesses. “It was a momentary lapse,” he said.
After Will had ordered de Groot to make arrangements for their urgent departure from Cadiz, Sister Adelita guided them along a circuitous route to the cathedral that avoided all the busy areas and the plaza in front where they guessed the foot soldiers would still be watching. A side door used by the cathedral staff was open. Sister Adelita ushered them inside.
The cathedral was cool after the heat of the day, and at that time was still and quiet. Soon, Will knew, it would be bustling with merchants arranging business and the local people at their devotions or lighting candles for loved ones at sea. The stained-glass windows cast jewels across the flagstones, and the great vaulted roof high overhead caught and magnified every sound with the perfect acoustics of the medieval builders. Will silently cautioned the others to move with extreme quiet.
Like all the Catholic cathedrals Will had seen, the chapels were filled with paintings and relics, gold chalices, crosses, and other iconography that showed the great wealth of the Church.
Mayhew, Carpenter, and Launceston slipped into hiding places along the nave, while Will waited in a small chapel close to the high altar. Nodding to Will, Sister Adelita stood in the nave and called loudly for Father Celino. He emerged with a lazy gait, a tall man with a Roman nose, heavily tanned, and with jet black hair despite being in his fifties.
“Sister Adelita, is there a problem?” he asked with a note of concern. “I did not expect to see you here.”
“Yes, Father. It is about my brother,” she replied, her head bowed.
“Don Alanzo? Is he well?”
“I am worried about him, Father. I have not heard from him and I would know where he is so I can seek him out.”
“Your brother is in Seville, Sister,” Celino said with an aloof manner. “As always, he is engaged in important matters. He would not wish to have his affairs intruded upon by one such as you.”
“Then you cannot tell me who he sees?”
“Of course not!” Celino snapped.
Will caught Launceston’s eye, who waited like a spectre in the shadows behind a stone column, and he passed on the sign. Instantly, Carpenter, Mayhew, and Launceston darted from their hiding places and grabbed Sister Adelita, who screamed as she attempted to fight them off.
“What is this?” Celino raged. “Leave her alone! Help! Help us now!”
Drawing his knife, Will glided silently to Celino’s side and whispered, “Silence, Father, or it will not only be her blood that stains the flags.”
Celino fell silent. “Who are you?” he asked gravely.
“English cutthroats who think nothing of spilling Spanish blood.”
Celino blanched.
“Kill her,” Will said.
“No!” Celino cried, but Launceston and Carpenter were already dragging Sister Adelita into one of the chapels. Her screams rang off the walls, until a moment later there was only silence.
“Lock the doors,” Will instructed Mayhew, “so we are not disturbed.”
Grabbing the priest roughly by his cassock, Will threw him across the altar. His head bounced off the table and his eyes grew wide with fear as he began to intone a prayer.
“Do not waste your breath, Father,” Will said. “No higher power will save you, and none on Earth either.”
Blood pumped through Will’s head as he stared into Celino’s face. All his repressed fears about Grace rushed up, and his rage at the suffering heaped on an innocent person, and his frustration that he could not move faster and harder to find her.
“You would dare harm a servant of God in His very house?” Celino uttered.
“There is a woman under my protection whose life is at risk. I would dare anything, Father.”
“What about your eternal soul?”
“My soul was lost long ago.”
“But God—”
“I ca
re not for God!” Will snapped. “The things I have seen … the pain that has been heaped on the people I know … If there was a God, would he allow such things to exist? This religion tears us apart when we should be joining together to fight greater threats.”
“The word of the Lord brings comfort—”
“And pain and suffering to many who have suffered the whip of the Catholics, or the persecution of King Henry’s church. This world will be consumed by the flames of hell and you will still be arguing over whose Bible is stronger.”
Celino saw something in Will’s face that made him even more terrified. He began to intone another prayer until Will cuffed him forcefully across the face.
“I have questions, Father, and I am not in the mood to be resisted.” Will moved the tip of his knife slowly across Celino’s cheek to touch his lower eyelid. The priest’s breath caught in his throat. “If the answers I receive are not to my liking, I will cut out this eye,” Will continued. “And if you continue to live out your fantasy of being a martyr, I will cut out your other eye. And then I will whittle you down little by little until there is nothing left. We shall see whose will is stronger.”
Celino began to whimper and struggle in the panic that consumed him. Slipping the tip of his knife into the priest’s nostril, Will ripped up through the flesh. Celino howled as blood spurted across his cassock and onto the altar.
“Pay heed to that pain,” Will said. “It is nothing compared to what is to come. Are you ready to answer my questions?”
Trembling, the priest nodded.
“Don Alanzo de las Posadas visited you here at the cathedral this very week. What did he want?”
Celino swallowed, his eyes darting towards the chapel where Sister Adelita had been killed.
“Yes, we forced her to ask you these questions. You could have saved her life if you had answered them then,” Will said. “Her death is on your conscience. Now … what did lion Alanzo want?”
Blinking away tears, Celino replied, “To find the most knowledgeable man in all of Spain on matters of the occult, and ancient mysteries, and the secrets of the past.”
“And you helped him?”
The Silver Skull Page 28