When the Heavens Fall (10 page)

“I'll do whatever you say, Father. I'd even go as a common soldier.”

“No, your mother would never sleep at night. I want you to be an officer.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“It's my last gift to you, Son, until you prove yourself.”

“Yes, sir. I appreciate what you're doing.”

“Go see your mother.”

“Yes, sir.” As soon as Brandon was outside the room, he drew a great sigh of relief. “Well, that's an unbelievable turn of events! I wouldn't have been surprised if he had kicked me out.” He made his way down the hall until he came to the room his parents shared. He knocked on the door, and when he heard his mother's voice he went in. Heather Winslow was standing beside a window. Brandon could clearly see the sadness in her. There was a gentleness in this woman, and Brandon had always loved her dearly. He was so ashamed that he could not meet her eyes now, but he managed to say, “I've made such a mess of things, Mother.”

“Yes, but you're still my son, and you're your father's son.”

“Not much of either of you in me, as far as I can tell. I can't do anything right. I never have.”

“I gave you to God, Brandon, the day you were born.”

“God? Why, Mother? God won't have me.”

She ignored his harsh words. “I have his promise that you'll serve him some day. That you'll bring him honor.”

“I wish I could believe that.” Brandon shook his head, a miserable expression etched on his features. “I wish I were like Father and Grandfather.”

“Your father had a difficult time finding his way when he was your age.”

Brandon steeled himself and said, “Father and I have spoken. I'm going into the army.”

She wavered, looked to the window, then back to him. “I'll pray for you every day, Brandon. You are not as lost as you feel.”

She lifted her hands, and he took them and kissed them. “Thank you, Mother. I'll try to be a better man—the man you believe me to be. I must get ready to leave now.”

He made it to the doorway before she said, “Brandon?”

He turned and looked her in the eye. “Yes?”

“I plan on wearying God with my petitions for you. You know that, right? You are fighting him now. But you can't fight him forever.”

He looked to the floor, searching for something right to say

In the end, he simply walked away

Brandon Winslow ran his hand down the bare back of Alice Poplin and idly thought,
It's 1553. I've been a soldier for two years.
He laughed aloud; it was a strange thought for a man engaged as he was. He was lying beside Alice Poplin, the wife of his commanding officer, Major Cecil Poplin. Softly he stroked the silky skin of Alice's back, and it amused him that a wayward thought could interrupt such a delicious activity. But then, he had a strangely active imagination, which frequently made such strange leaps. He had been carrying on a torrid affair with Alice for three months and was beginning to tire of her. She was an attractive woman with a tempting body, but she had no more mind than a mouse

As these thoughts came to him, he continued to stroke Alice's back, and she wiggled and cried, “You will drive me mad!” Alice turned over and faced Brandon. She put her arms around his neck, drew him closer, and kissed him passionately. “Love me,” she whispered. “Love me as you always do.”

Brandon grinned and drew her closer, but at that instant a banging on the door drew his attention away. “Who can that be?” he muttered

Alice froze and stared in horror at the door

Brandon knew that he had taken a terrible risk in bringing
Alice to his room. If word got out that he was having an affair with the major's wife, there would be trouble he didn't need. During his months of service as a soldier, he had done well in every aspect of military expertise. But despite his excellent record in the field, he had stayed in trouble most of the time for breaking the rules. Now he called out, “Who is it?”

“It's me—Caleb.”

“Go away, Caleb.”

“Open the door, Brandon. Quick. There's trouble!”

Throwing the cover back, Brandon padded over to the door. He opened it a crack but was shoved backward as Caleb Carter came in. Carter was a big man with blond hair and deep-set blue eyes. He glanced at Alice. “Have you lost your mind, Brandon?”

“If you've come to preach at me, take your sermon somewhere else.”

“Don't you know the major has come back?”

Brandon stared at his friend. He and Carter had hit it off from the beginning, which was strange, considering that they were so different. Carter was always the good soldier, obeying orders, keeping within the lines drawn for him in His Majesty's army while Brandon had delighted in trying to redraw those lines. “He was supposed to be gone for three days,” Brandon exclaimed

“Well, he's not. He's back, and he's looking for his wife.”

Alice's face turned pale. “Brandon, he'll kill us!”

“He won't kill anybody.”

“You're a fool, Brandon!” Caleb cried. “If he catches you, he'll call you out.”

“A duel? Don't be stupid. He'd never challenge me. I'd cut him into pieces.”

“You may be the best man with a sword or with a pistol in this company, but if you fought a duel with your commanding officer you know what would happen. You'd hang for it.”

“All right. Get out now, Caleb.”

“I'm telling you that you'd better get that woman out of here.” Caleb cast a disgusted look at Alice. She had slept with more than one of the soldiers under her husband's command. “You're risking your career, your life, for nothing—worse than nothing.”

Brandon grinned broadly. “Oh, come, now. Alice is worth a little risk. Now, you go on. I'll see you later.”

With a look of despair Caleb shook his head, then turned and left

Brandon locked the door and turned back to Alice. The heightened intrigue had made his pulse race, and desire for his mistress once more flowed through him

“I should go, Brandon,” Alice said, moving to the edge of the bed

“No, we have time. Come, darling. This might be our last chance.” He pulled her closer and promptly put all thoughts of Major Cecil Poplin out of his head

“The major wants to see you, Brandon.”

Brandon, who was lying flat on this back and staring up at the blue sky, replied sleepily, “What does he want, Caleb?”

“How should I know? You'd better hope it's not about his wife.”

“He's a fool. He can't see what's going on under his nose.”

“No, he's not a fool. He's simply sly, hiding his emotions. You'd better hurry and find out what he wants. He looked upset about something.”

“All right. I suppose I must.” Brandon came to his feet in one easy motion and slapped Carter on the shoulder. “What do you say we take a break, Caleb? Take a run to London and see what's going on there.”

Caleb didn't smile back. “You go see what the major wants.”

With a sigh Brandon made his way to the major's tent.
When he entered, he found Major Poplin speaking to one of his men. Poplin was a small man, and at the age of forty-five he had gained weight. He had tried pulling his clothes tighter, but that only emphasized the fat on his stomach. He peered at Brandon with close-set eyes and then glanced at the other man. “We'll talk about this later. Please excuse us.”

“Yes, Major.”

As soon as the lieutenant left, Poplin said, “We've got a crisis, and I'm sending you to take care of it, Winslow.”

“What kind of a crisis, sir?”

Poplin put his hands behind his back and glanced furtively up at Brandon. Apparently it infuriated him that he had to look up at the young man. Brandon stifled a smile. Poplin had seen to it that he had difficult tasks, but never had he failed to meet his commanding officer's demands. He was studying Poplin carefully and expected to see some sign that the man suspected betrayal, but there was nothing there

He's a fool.
Brandon thought.
A disgrace to the uniform. He can't fight, and he can't keep his wife happy.

“King Edward is dead.”

The blunt words didn't surprise Brandon. “The king has been ill for years. Everybody knows that.”

“Well, there's difficulty ahead—issues with the succession.”

“Can you be specific, sir?”

“Princess Mary is next in line for the crown, but she may not get it. You know her, don't you?”

“Yes, sir. My father took me to visit her, sir, and Princess Elizabeth, too.”

“Well, Princess Mary is in considerable trouble.”

“How can she be in trouble?”

“The Protector, Lord Northumberland, well knows that if Mary becomes queen she'll bring Catholic persecution to the whole country. So he talked King Edward into naming Lady Jane Grey queen when he died.”

“Who is she?”

“Oh, she's the granddaughter of King Henry's sister Mary. Northumberland forced Jane to marry his son, Lord Guildford Dudley.”

“Why, he can't do that!”

“He
has
done it, lieutenant! Now Northumberland is leading a force to take Mary captive. If he does, she'll be executed.”

“But, Major, we can't let that happen!”

“No, we can't. I have a message here that's come by courier. It's from Queen Mary.” He looked up and shook his head. “You must have made quite an impression on her, Winslow. She wants you to lead the force assigned to turn Northumberland back. I think it's a mistake. You are not yet prepared for such a task.”

“I think I am ready, sir. We need to send all the men possible.”

“Well, I can't disobey my queen. She may bring Catholic persecution, but if Lady Jane is queen Northumberland will rule the country, and he is a devil if there ever was one! I'm sending the largest group of men we can get together. There's going to be trouble among the officers who think they ought to lead this, but Queen Mary has demanded that you lead the group. I want you to leave today. Time is of the essence.”

“Yes, sir. Give me the orders, and I'll see that they are carried out. You have my guarantee Northumberland will not touch our queen.”

“See it is so, then.”

“May I be of service, my queen?”

“You have been of service already, my dear subject.” Mary put forth her hand, and Mason kissed it. He had been Mary's faithful friend for years

“You must move very quickly, Your Majesty,” he urged

Mary nodded, then accepted his help to climb into a tiny carriage. A small body of followers and knights surrounded it, all determined to reach their refuge, Framlingham Castle

“It's a strong fortress,” she had explained to her advisors. “It's close to the coast in case I have to take flight.”

All along the road traveled by Mary and her entourage the people followed. They had heard the news that the king was dead, and there was outrage at the rumors that were flying that Lady Jane Grey would be queen. Most of them had never heard of her, but they had known of Mary since her childhood. Cries of “Long live Queen Mary!” followed her wherever she went, and by the time she reached Framlingham she found she was encouraged, despite the coming danger