Witchfall (19 page)

William nodded jerkily. ‘I know, I know. And I do want to believe you. But you’re my little sister, Meg. I used to carry you on my back when you were a child. I can remember you being terrified of spiders and screaming for me in the night because you’d found one on your bed. I love you more than anyone else in the world, and I’m truly sorry for all the trouble and pain I’ve caused you this past year. But I never again want to watch my sister calling up a black wind that . . . that
swallows
people whole. It’s just not natural.’

I counted silently to ten, not wanting to lose my temper with him. I had already lost my aunt, and I was not sure I would ever forgive my father for his treachery, so William was all the family I had left.

‘So, about Marcus Dent, what do you know?’

He shrugged. ‘The first I knew was when he came to
Lytton Park to see our father, a few days after I’d got back from London.’

‘He spoke to Father? What about?’

‘I don’t know. It was early one morning and I was asleep. I heard them arguing and came downstairs, but Dent was already leaving. He had two men with him – apparently he never goes anywhere these days without a personal bodyguard – and I only caught a quick glimpse of his face, but he looked . . . well, he looked
wrong
.’

‘Wrong?’

‘His face was badly scarred.’ Reluctantly, William traced two lines across his cheek to the corner of his mouth. ‘As though he’d been scratched by a wild animal. His skin was a coarse dark red, as though he’d been travelling under a hot sun all summer. And . . .’

‘Go on,’ I prompted him when he hesitated.

‘He wore his cap pulled low, so I did not see this myself. But when I spoke to Father afterwards, he told me Dent had lost an eye.’

This description filled me with foreboding. What precisely had my spell of banishment done? I might have cast a spell on Dent so that he could not accuse me either by word or in writing, but that did not mean he could not take his revenge in some other way – perhaps by hurting me physically, or accusing those nearest me.

I wondered why Dent had visited Lytton Park. Had he been looking for me? That did not seem likely. I had made
no secret of my allegiance to the Lady Elizabeth, nor that I was following her to court. Anyone in Woodstock and the surrounding villages could have told him where I was.

‘You said he argued with our father. You do not think Dent means to do him some harm?’

‘I may not have your powers of sorcery, Meg, but I am not a fool. I would never have left Oxfordshire if I had thought Father was not safe on his own there.’

‘I hope you are right,’ I said. ‘It sounds to me as though Dent is in a dangerous mood and looking for revenge.’

William looked at me broodingly. ‘If he is, it was your spell that made him so.’

I would have liked to point out that Marcus Dent had always been a dangerous man, and indeed that he would have drowned me as a witch if I had not used that spell on him. But I could see Blanche Parry heading towards us from the house, carrying what looked like two large cushions. Behind her came the retainer’s two daughters, Bessie and Lucy, with covered baskets in their arms. Then I saw the Lady Elizabeth herself leaving the house, followed by Alejandro – who looked rather like a court minstrel with a lute strung across his back – and Alice, clutching the hem of the princess’s gown and trying not to let it brush the still-dewy grass.

‘It seems we are eating lunch outside today,’ I murmured, and allowed William to help me to my feet.

The Lady Elizabeth pointed to a spot near the oak tree, and Blanche threw down the cushions, rearranging them to
her satisfaction. The two maids bobbed a curtsey and hurried back to the house for their own lunch. I watched them go, noticing that the last chimney was smoking now and the ragged crow had flown away, no doubt fearing to be cooked alive on its perch.

My brother seemed uncomfortable at the sight of the Lady Elizabeth. He was not attached to the princess’s household and had been sleeping in the stables since accompany ing us here from Hampton Court. Now he looked guilty for having been seen in her grounds by the princess, like a boy caught scrumping apples from his neighbour’s orchard.

‘I am not supposed to be here,’ William muttered in my ear. ‘I should leave Hatfield. I only wished to be sure you were safe, Meg, and that you knew of Marcus Dent’s return. But now that is done, I will return to London and seek new employment.’

‘Wait,’ I whispered, hanging onto his sleeve. ‘Stay with me here a while longer. The princess will not turn you away.’ I saw his uncertainty, and begged, not wishing to lose touch with my brother so soon after fate had pushed us together again, ‘Please?’

William smiled. ‘Very well, Meg. If her ladyship is kind enough to permit it, I will stay until I am no longer of any help to you.’

The Lady Elizabeth turned to us. ‘Señor de Castillo is going to play some Spanish songs for us while we take a small
luncheon under this tree. Come and sit by me, Meg. I had a strange dream last night and wish you to interpret it for me.’ Her dark gaze flickered over William with sudden interest. ‘This is your brother, is it not? I have seen him about the house, but do not believe we have been introduced.’

I introduced them with a curtsey, watching hopefully from under my lashes as he bowed over her pale hand and made a few flattering remarks about her beauty. Elizabeth liked young men, especially those with a neat figure and a handsome face like my brother. And if William was lucky, the princess would not remember his part in the theft of her letter.

We sat on the grass together, protected from the damp by cushions and blankets that had been strewn about there. The baskets were uncovered to reveal delicious cold meats and pies, with a tankard of local ale to be shared between us, the Lady Elizabeth joining in thirstily as the cup went round and wiping her mouth on the back of her hand afterwards, like any other girl.

Later, while we picked drowsily at dishes of sweetmeats, Alejandro stood in the spreading shade of the oak and played the lute for us.

He began with a well-known tune from court, a lively dance that soon had Alice’s feet tapping.

‘Now sing to us in Spanish,
por favor
, Señor de Castillo,’ was the Lady Elizabeth’s request, applauding him with pleasure. ‘But make it a love song this time. And a sad one. I am too full of eel pie for dancing.’

‘A Spanish love song,’ he repeated musingly.

‘But a sad one,’ she reminded him, smiling. ‘A song of parted lovers and aching hearts.’

‘
Muy bien, mi princesa
.’

His dark head bent over the lute strings, his fingers strumming gently as he considered what to play. Then Alejandro began to sing softly in Spanish. I did not know what the words meant, but his voice was so sad and tender my eyes soon filled with tears and I lay back on my cushion, my fingers knotting themselves helplessly in the grass as I listened.

Alejandro lifted his head and looked straight at me as the song came to a close, his voice dropping to a husky murmur, the Spanish barely audible. Yet the sense of his words was communicated by his eyes and fingers, and by the achingly mellow notes of the lute.

I love you
, he was saying with his whole body,
but I know we can never be together
. His fingers slowed on the lute strings, each note drawn out, poignant.
I love you, though our love must end
.

Alejandro’s gaze darkened, his eyes staring into mine. His voice rose and fell for the last time.
I love you, but death will soon part us
.

In the long silence after his song had finished, I slowly became aware of the rhythmic thud of hoof beats in the distance. One horseman, approaching at a breakneck pace from the road to London. Nor was I the only one who had heard him.

My brother was already on his feet, shielding his eyes against the sunlight as he tried to make out the horseman’s identity.

‘Who is it?’ the Lady Elizabeth whispered, suddenly very still, a hand to her throat. No doubt she thought this might be another accusation of treason on its way. Or else that miraculous news she never quite dared hope for, that her sister was dead and she was Queen at last.

‘I cannot see, my lady. A single rider. But he will soon be upon us. Do you wish to return to the house for safety?’

Alejandro had laid down his lute. Now he trod swiftly forward as though to guard us from attack, his hand falling to his sword hilt. His gaze met mine briefly, then he swung to face the approaching danger.

‘Yes,’ Elizabeth muttered, letting Alice help her to rise, then stood there indecisive, measuring the distance from the lawn to the house with an uncertain eye. Her voice grew stronger. ‘No, no. I shall not flee from a lone messenger. Let the dice fall where they may. I am the Queen’s sister and I have done nothing wrong.’

The horseman came into clearer view, kicking up sods of turf as he galloped hard along the grassy track. He looked like a young man, his body bent low over the horse’s neck, cloak billowing out behind him like a black cloud, the reins held short as he wrenched the horse off the track and towards where we were standing.

‘Whatever message he bears is urgent,’ Alejandro
commented, ‘or he would not risk killing his horse to deliver it.’

Dragging hard on the reins, the young man pulled his sweating horse to a stop and slid from the animal’s back. He took one swift assessing look at us all, his gaze touching on me a moment longer than the others, then dropped to one knee before the Lady Elizabeth.

‘My lady,’ he said hoarsely, ‘I come with a letter from Master John Dee. It has been written in code, but my master says you will understand what it means.’

Her face very pale, Elizabeth took the letter he was holding out in his gloved hand. She handed it to me, then carefully removed a small scrap of paper from the leather pocket hanging from her belt. This she unfolded, then took back the letter from Dee. Glancing from one to the other as she checked the code key against Dee’s writing, her body stiffened as she read. When she had finished, she looked down at the kneeling messenger. ‘You are Richard, apprentice to Master Dee?’

‘I am, my lady.’

‘If I have understood this letter aright, your master says he has been released from prison and means to visit me here. Where is he at this moment, and how long does he intend to stay?’

The young man glanced at the rest of us, not replying.

Surprised, she glanced round at us too, her gaze lingering a moment on my brother William, then gestured him to
continue. ‘These are members of my household. You may speak freely before them.’

‘Yes, my lady,’ he muttered, but did not bother to hide his reluctance. ‘Master Dee intends to leave London tomorrow. He has been released only on the agreement that he will take up work on behalf of the crown, though I do not know what that work might be. So he will not stay long, perhaps a few days. My master told me he would travel mainly by night, taking the back roads and making several diversions to shake off any of the Queen’s spies who might be following him. By my reckoning, he should arrive by Thursday.’

‘Three days?’ Elizabeth sounded surprised. But she nodded, folding Dee’s letter very small and concealing it within her belt purse. ‘You may stand, Richard. Do you know the contents of this letter?’

Dee’s apprentice stood up, dusting down his knee with his gloved hand. He was not as tall as he had seemed on his horse. He was perhaps a head shorter than Alejandro, and far leaner too, his build wiry but muscular, like a hunting hound. Dressed all in black, his clothes were mud-spattered from the road and serviceable rather than well-cut, an indication of his status as an apprentice. I guessed him to be around eighteen or nineteen years of age, a slight stubble on his chin revealing that he had not shaved that day. He had not removed his cap in the princess’s presence, which I felt was an act of insolence, but could see that his hair was dark and unkempt, curling at the back into his shoulders like a beggar’s.

Richard was not unattractive, I thought, yet there was something about him that made me uneasy. And it was not just his rough appearance. His mouth was straight and unsmiling as he looked back at the princess.

‘I do, my lady.’

She smiled, not angry as I had expected, but seeming to want to cajole him. ‘Come, Richard. Is it such a hardship to join my household until your master arrives?’

So Master Dee had asked the Lady Elizabeth to accept this young man into her service. I was taken aback, and looked him over more carefully. Certainly he would not be hired for his charm. Richard said nothing in reply but held her gaze flatly, amazing me with his churlishness. But perhaps as apprentice to a man like Dee, who lurched from being in great company to being an outcast and a prisoner, he was unused to courtly manners.

At this point, Alejandro stepped forward to intervene. I could not remember ever seeing him look so cold with dislike.

‘Here, boy, allow me to show you the way to the stables,’ he said pointedly, taking up the horse’s slack reins. ‘Your mount is tired, and in need of fresh water and hay. William has been sleeping above the stables. Perhaps we can find you a bed there too.’

Dee’s apprentice stared at him, then held out his hand for the reins. ‘I can lead my own horse to the stables. Yes, and make my own bed too.’

Shrugging, his face full of disdain, Alejandro handed him the reins. ‘As you prefer.’

Not moving, Richard met his gaze with a hard look of his own. ‘You must be the Spanish priest.’

If Alejandro was surprised by this, he did not show it. But his back was stiff, and I could tell that he was angered by the boy’s lack of respect. ‘My name is Alejandro de Castillo, and I am a novice in the Holy Order of Santiago de Compostela.’

‘Yes, like I said.’ He glanced over his shoulder at me, then turned back to Alejandro. I had the suspicion he was mocking us. ‘My master told me of you. Before I left London, he gave me a message for you.’

‘A message? What possible message could John Dee have for me?’

‘Only that your life is in danger,’ Richard replied shortly, then bowed to the princess and turned to lead his horse to the stables.