Dent was shouting at the crowd now, insisting that God would protect them if they dragged me down and hanged me. I begged the wind for more force, and the willow tree creaked and bent, its delicate green tendrils thrashing the air. The sky darkened as though it was night, all the trees and hedgerows around the village green shaking violently. Then the church bell began to toll behind me, swinging in the wind I had raised.
The girls’ hair flew about their faces and they screamed, hanging onto their mothers’ dishevelled skirts. The women seized their children and dragged them home, almost blown there by the wind that pursued them. Their men ran behind with shouts and curses, struggling to secure their doors and windows against the unearthly gale.
Dent was hanging onto the willow, both arms clasped about its trunk. His rage was palpable. ‘You will suffer for this, witch! I shall not forget.’
I muttered a single word in Latin under my breath and watched in satisfaction as Marcus Dent was lifted from his feet. The witchfinder clung to the willow with desperate hands, but the wind was too strong for him. Seconds later, it took him like a piece of clothing snatched from a clothes line. With a last furious cry, Dent flew backwards and was consumed by the dark whirling chaos of the storm.
At the very instant that he disappeared, something small and white came spinning towards me out of the storm. Instinctively I reached up and caught it, one-handed. It was my little white charm-stone, the one my aunt had given me as a protective amulet. Dent had taken it from me at Woodstock and now it had returned to its rightful owner.
At once the village green was calm again. Empty, calm and eerily still.
‘Meg!’
Lowering myself slowly back to the damp, blossom-strewn earth, I embraced my brother Will. The enchanted wind had not touched him, but had swept everything from around him like a stream racing around a rock.
‘Are you hurt?’ I whispered.
I could see astonishment in his face as he stepped back. No doubt he had found it hard to witness his younger sister floating on the air and whipping up a dark storm to blow our enemies away. Yet my brother did not seem shocked by what he had seen here today. It was as though Will had always known in his heart that I was no ordinary girl. I only hoped he had not lost his love for me now that I had openly marked myself out as a witch.
He shook his head. ‘Not a whit,’ he replied.
‘I’m glad.’
‘That was some performance. You must be exhausted. Come, your Spanish friend is finding us horses.’ He slipped an arm about my waist as I staggered.
I suddenly remembered seeing Alejandro out of the corner of my eye, a dark figure fleeing the village green as I was lowered into the water.
Or rather, going to fetch horses.
‘How did Alejandro know . . .?’
Will smiled grimly and showed me the pistol under his jacket. ‘Oh, we had a plan to rescue you. In the end though, we didn’t need it.’ He sounded almost admiring.
‘Trust a Lytton to have a plan,’ I managed.
Will laughed, then pointed ahead. Alejandro had appeared in his priest’s robes at the mouth of the lane, leading two frightened-looking horses. Behind him came Juan on the cart, who stood and waved his whip at me with some jubilant but unintelligible cry in Spanish.
‘What did his servant just say?’ Will whispered in my ear.
‘I have no idea,’ I replied, but waved back cheerily enough at the swarthy Spanish groom. ‘Though “You’re alive!” seems like a good guess.’
Despite the pains in my legs and back, I felt like grinning triumphantly myself. One minute I had been facing my death, the next I had been putting my enemies to flight. I had not understood the extent of my power until that moment when I had felt the icy grip of death and chosen to shrug it off. So the game continued, and this round had gone to me. Though I had no doubt that if Marcus Dent had survived being cast into the heart of my magickal storm, he would be back soon enough. And intent on revenge.
I would have to find some way to silence him and his men, I realized. For in ruining me, Marcus Dent would ruin my mistress too. When it came to her ears that Elizabeth was harbouring a witch in her household, the zealous Queen would be quick to have both me and her younger sister interrogated by the Spanish Inquisitors whose methods of torture and interrogation had so terrified the entire country.
We reached Alejandro and the horses. He had thrown back his hood, his expression forbidding.
I looked at him, unsure what to expect. ‘Alejandro?’
‘Short hair suits you,’ he remarked, and smiled when I ran a hand over my shorn locks. I had forgotten that Marcus Dent fancied himself as a barber. ‘Just don’t ever try to pass as a boy. There are a couple of things that might get in your way.’
‘Be quiet,’ I managed feebly, then wondered why my lips felt so numb and my legs were shaky.
Alejandro gave me an assessing look, then pulled his priest’s thick robe over his head and handed it to me. ‘No, put it on,’ he insisted when I tried to protest. ‘I stole it from the local priest. Anyway, your need is greater than mine. You look half dead.’
‘That’s not funny. I nearly was dead.’
‘And whose fault is that?’ With a frown, he watched me hand back Will’s now very damp jacket and drag the priest’s robe down over my head instead. ‘Why did you ride away from me in the woods, Meg? You must have known Dent’s men would catch up with you.’
‘The horse bolted under me,’ I lied, avoiding his gaze, and knew he did not believe me. But it was the only answer I had for him.
His gaze searched my face, his voice terse. ‘I didn’t think you were going to make it.’
‘Not . . . your . . . fault,’ I managed, shivering so violently now that my teeth were chattering.
‘It was harder than I’d thought to find Juan. We had a daring rescue planned. It involved Will holding them off with his pistol and Juan setting fire to the Bull Inn as a distraction while I grabbed you. But in the end, we didn’t need to do anything.’
‘The princess’s letter,’ I reminded him in a mutter, telling myself not to behave like a fool over him.
Alejandro drew a deep breath. ‘The princess’s letter,’ he agreed, his look suddenly very grim. ‘Did Marcus Dent take it away from you when you were arrested?’
For a moment I could not remember. It seemed so long ago since we were in the woods together, playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse with Marcus Dent and his men. Yet it could only be a few short hours. Then my head cleared and I saw in my mind’s eye the black stallion drinking from the stream, his wet muzzle and resentful glance. Then the fallen branch in the undergrowth, its hollow end now stuffed with mud and leaves . . . and something rather bulkier.
‘I hid it,’ I gasped, and grabbed at his arm. ‘It’s still in the woods.’
Alejandro led me to the cart and helped me up onto the seat beside a wildly grinning Juan. ‘We’d better hurry, then.’
TWENTY-ONE
Summons
RIDING IN THROUGH the gates at Woodstock Lodge just after dusk, we found the place in uproar. Torches had been lit in the courtyards, candles burned in all the windows, and there was the sound of shouting from inside the house. Two guards stood at the gate, their expressions uncertain in the thickening dusk.
‘Who goes there?’ one of them demanded, lowering his pike as Alejandro tried to ride through.
‘Alejandro de Castillo,’ he replied in some surprise, and reined in his horse. ‘John, is that you? Let us pass, I’ve brought Meg Lytton back to the Lady Elizabeth. Her brother’s with us too, Will Lytton. I’m sure Sir Henry Bedingfield will not begrudge him a bed for a few nights, the man’s been badly hurt.’
‘I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t recognize you at first.’
Alejandro stared up at the brightly lit building. His eyes narrowed, and I saw his hands clench compulsively on the bridle. ‘What’s happened here? What’s to do?’
‘I shouldn’t really say . . .’
/> ‘Come, man, I’m one of the Lady Elizabeth’s priests,’ Alejandro said persuasively. I had never heard him sound so warm, so approachable. Perhaps he was the one with the gift after all, I thought bitterly. ‘I was sent here by Queen Mary herself. What cannot be said to me?’
The guard glanced at me and Will on the cart behind Alejandro’s, then nodded reluctantly. ‘Very well, sir. The Lady Elizabeth has been summoned to court. An urgent letter arrived this afternoon, along with some of the Queen’s men. She is to leave at first light, under heavy guard.’
Suddenly I could not breathe. The Lady Elizabeth, ordered urgently to court? This could only mean one thing. Proof of her treason had at last been found and she was indeed to be questioned again, just as the princess had feared. I only hoped no word of her incriminating letter had reached the Queen during our absence.
Alejandro caught my eye and shook his head minutely. ‘Thank you, John,’ he told the guard, and nudged his horse forward through the gates. ‘I had best get Meg Lytton back to her duties as quickly as possible then. The Lady Elizabeth will be needing her.’
As Alejandro dismounted in the courtyard, I jumped down from the cart and ran to him. ‘Could they know of the letter? Do you still have it safe?’
He patted his cloak reassuringly. ‘Safe enough, and so it will remain until the Lady Elizabeth destroys it herself. Now hush, no more until we can be private. They may be listening.’
He insisted I went up to reassure the Lady Elizabeth while he helped my poor brother inside. Following them into the narrow hallway, I could see there was nothing I could do to help Will, and knowing how terrified Elizabeth must be at this latest blow, I gathered my somewhat soiled and torn skirts and ran up the stairs.
The guard outside Elizabeth’s door was a man I did not recognize. One of the newcomers from London, perhaps? I explained who I was and he shrugged, not seeming to take much notice of me.
I knocked, but there was no reply. Since the door was slightly ajar, I pushed it open and entered the princess’s candlelit bedchamber on tiptoe.
Elizabeth was on her knees by the window, hands clasped fervently together as though in prayer. She gasped at the sight of me and lurched to her feet. Blanche Parry, who had been packing the princess’s travelling chests, turned to see who had come in and cried out in shock.
‘Meg!’ The princess was pale, her dark eyes wide, her lips trembling. ‘We thought you were dead.’
‘I nearly was,’ I replied drily, and threw back the hood of my cloak.
Elizabeth stared at my shorn hair. ‘Your hair!’
‘The witchfinder Master Dent felt I was too vain. So he cut off my hair.’
‘Yes, we heard about the charges. Thomas Parry sent word from the Bull that you had been arrested and condemned to die this very afternoon.’ Elizabeth looked horrified. ‘How is it possible that you have escaped with your life?’
‘Master Dent withdrew the charges of witchcraft at the last minute,’ I told her loudly, for the benefit of the guard in the hallway. ‘He declared it a malicious accusation and allowed me to go free.’
I pushed the door shut and sank into a curtsey that almost killed me. My body was aching as though I had been kicked by a mule.
‘Lady Elizabeth,’ I began carefully, not sure if my whisper might be overheard by the new guard outside, ‘we have done that which you required us to do.’
Colour rushed back into the princess’s cheeks. ‘Get up,’ Elizabeth insisted, helping me to my feet. ‘Please get up. This is excellent news. It is what we have been praying for. I don’t know how to thank you.’
I looked at her, then at Blanche Parry, who had turned back to her packing with a smile.
‘I heard you had been summoned to court,’ I murmured. ‘Do you think . . .?’
Elizabeth laid a warning finger on my lips and shook her head. ‘My dear sister the Queen has kindly sent a small troop of guards to protect me on my return to court,’ she explained cautiously, again in case the guard was listening. ‘It seems the Queen desires to speak with me at once. I am glad you have returned. You can help Blanche to pack for me. Nothing must be left behind at Woodstock, for I . . . I do not think I will ever come back here again.’
I suddenly realized what she meant. The princess was leaving Oxfordshire for good. And that meant I must leave too.
‘I cannot go home,’ I whispered. ‘You cannot send me home, my lady. My father . . .’
‘I cannot afford to keep you at court,’ Elizabeth told me, and shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Meg, truly I am.’
‘Then I will serve you unpaid.’
‘Meg, dearest, do not be foolish. How will you eat? And clothe yourself? Life at court is hard enough for a wealthy noble, let alone a penniless servant with a mistress in disgrace.’ She knitted her fingers together, her eyes suddenly tortured. Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Besides, I may not be at court for long. If I am found guilty of whatever accusation has been brought against me this time, my sister will have me removed to the Tower again. And thence . . .’ The Lady Elizabeth broke down and turned away to hide her tears.
‘She cannot do that,’ I said, not knowing how to comfort her.
But I very much feared Elizabeth was right, and this urgent summons to court was in truth a warrant for her arrest. Men had come to escort her back to London under armed guard, to face more questions at court. What else could that mean but another accusation of treason?
‘The people love you too much to allow any such unjust treatment, my lady,’ I said more firmly, and tried to cheer her up with a carefully worded message. ‘Alejandro has . . . what you lost, and will bring it back to you soon. You will see with your own eyes that no one can use that against you.’
She nodded, and dried her eyes with a white lace handkerchief. ‘Thank you.’
There was a quiet knock at her door. I opened it at Elizabeth’s command and felt a warm sense of relief when I saw Alejandro in the corridor.
‘Come in,’ I murmured, noting that the guard outside Elizabeth’s door was watching us suspiciously. ‘Her ladyship is expecting you.’
He slipped inside the room, and I closed the door behind him. Let the man listen if he would. I knew Alejandro’s natural caution too well. The guard would hear nothing he could use against Elizabeth.
Alejandro strode straight to the window and drew the shutters across it. Then he dropped to one knee before the princess and withdrew the letter from within his cloak, handing it to her without a word.
She took the letter with trembling hands, opened it and read it through to the end, her lips working. She gave a little gasp as she saw what had been added after her signature, and I saw her brows contract with sudden fury. The princess would have spoken then, but Alejandro cautioned her to silence with an abrupt gesture and pointed instead to the candle.
Elizabeth nodded, seemingly not offended by this impolite behaviour, and took the letter to the candle. Holding the edge in the flame, she waited for the parchment to be well alight, then cast it into the cold hearth.
We stood and watched the letter burn until there was nothing left but a pile of papery ashes.
‘Thank you,’ she said simply, and gestured Alejandro to rise.
He bowed. ‘It was my pleasure to serve you in this, my lady.’
‘Even against your mistress’s wishes?’ she asked in a whisper, her eyes lingering curiously on his face.
‘I am a Spaniard and I serve King Philip,’ he commented drily. ‘Not your royal sister.’
Elizabeth’s brows rose. ‘You think the King would approve of your actions here?’
Alejandro hesitated. ‘His Majesty is a man, my lady,’ he replied carefully, and his gaze flicked to my face and away. ‘He would understand that when a woman asks him for help, an honourable man must act as he sees fit – even if that involves breaking a few rules.’
Elizabeth glanced from him to me. A knowing look crept across her face. ‘I see,’ was all she said.
Blanch
e coughed behind her. ‘We leave at first light, my lady,’ she reminded Elizabeth, and scattered another handful of dried herbs into the chest to keep the clothes dry and sweet-smelling until they arrived at court. ‘And there is still much to be done.’
‘I will help you, my lady,’ I said at once, and took up a petticoat that needed to be folded. ‘Then I must go and pack my own things for the journey home.’
Alejandro frowned, and looked at Elizabeth, who bit her lip.
‘Oh, very well,’ the princess exclaimed, a little scarlet point burning in each cheek. ‘You can come with us to court, Meg. You have certainly earned my thanks and I would be churlish indeed to turn you away. But I do not know how I will be able to afford your board and lodging.’
‘Leave that business to me, my lady,’ Alejandro said mysteriously, and bowed low over her hand. ‘Now I too must go and prepare for our removal to court. Father Vasco’s health has improved these past few weeks. He should make the journey well enough.’
‘My brother!’ I had clean forgotten about Will. Now he would have to go home after all, for he was too weak to remain here alone.
‘Don’t fret,’ Alejandro told me. He had a twinkle in his eye. ‘Your brother can travel with Father Vasco as an additional guard against thieves and sturdy beggars. My master King Philip provides plentifully for our expenses, so there should be enough in my purse to cover the cost of his food and lodgings on the way. The roads are so dangerous these days, don’t you agree?’
When he had gone, Elizabeth turned to me with a teasing little smile.
‘Now, let me see. You were away two days and one night,’ the princess murmured, and helped herself to a sweetmeat. There was mock disapproval in her tone. ‘So where did you sleep that night, I wonder? Not in the arms of the soon-to-be-ordained Alejandro de Castillo, I trust?’
Witchstruck Page 23