Perfect Shadows (49 page)

“What is it?” I asked.

“It is a admission that you are a sodomite, a blasphemer, a
contemner and an atheist. You will make your mark and affix your seal. My lord
Cecil and I shall witness you. He will keep this safe, and you will leave
England for a period of—what is your will, my lord?”

“Seven years, I think, will be sufficient.”

“Just so. If you return to England before that time, this will
be used to condemn you, and I will not lift a finger to stop it. If you refuse
to obey me of your own will, you must be made to obey. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly,” I said woodenly. Cecil dipped a pen and I crossed
to the table to draw a rather shaky K, then press my signet into the small
puddle of wax he obligingly poured for me. When the wax cooled, he folded the
page and put it with a handful of others, locked safely away in a small
brassbound casket. “My lord, please, may I say goodbye to Southampton?” I had
to see Hal once more, I had to.

“No.”

“It would make my sudden departure seem less suspicious.” He
looked at me quizzically. “Not connected with you, I mean,” I gabbled and
rushed on, a plan forming almost as I spoke the words. “We could stage a
quarrel.” He thought about it and glanced at Geoffrey, who nodded slowly. The
guards were summoned and told to escort me back to the earl’s cell.

Hal was pacing when I entered, and sank down on the chest that
served him as both wardrobe and settle. I told him briefly what had occurred,
and my hasty plan. He nodded, and I joined him on the chest—after all, it would
look suspicious to begin a quarrel immediately. About a quarter-hour passed
most pleasantly, and then we deemed it time to begin.

“I care not, you barbarian! Prince indeed! Prince of savages!
Prince of churls!” Hal snorted.

Our angry voices roused the guards outside from their semi
stupor. The bolt shot back and the press behind him pushed the foremost man
into the room in spite of himself. We had squared off, apparently not caring
who heard our quarrel.

“My family was nobly born when folk on this island were still
painting themselves blue and baying at the moon!” I snapped back, and taking
the cue, Hal yowled and threw himself into an attack. I caught him in
mid-flight, keeping him from what could have been a painful fall, and we
engaged in a short but enjoyable scuffle before the stunned guards separated
us.

“Get you to hell!” Hal screamed after us.

“I’ll look for you there,” I retorted over my shoulder, as they
hustled me down the corridor, and to the gate where Geoffrey awaited my
arrival. The long ride to Chelsey was made in total silence. The queen was
waiting for me. I slipped through the palace corridors as silently and unmarked
as any ghost, fingering the ring that had summoned me. The weather, after the
first teasing hint of spring, was bitter; even my chill vampire’s breath left
its traces in the air. I found the room I was looking for and pushed the heavy
door open, almost colliding with Cecil as he had turned to go. He followed me
back into the room. The Queen’s gaze, icy as the draughts that rippled the
hangings on the walls, met mine, then his. “You have our leave, my lord,” she
said. “I must have speech in private.”

“That would be most unwise, your Majesty.”

“Do not think to school me, little man, at this late hour! I
said go!” He fled then, stating that he would be awaiting me without.

Elizabeth sat perched on cushions in front of the fire that
burned sullenly on the great hearth. She relaxed when she saw me, and patted
the pillow beside her. She grinned at me, hiding her blackened teeth behind her
hand. “I am happy that you came to me, cousin,” she went on. “I had feared that
you would not.”

I raised the hand bearing the summoning ring. “How not, when you
send me this. Whatever my faults may be, ingratitude is not among them, your
Majesty.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “And yet you have visited with the Earl
of Southampton in the Tower, against both my wishes and my express command. How
is that?” Her tone was cold and remote.

“I had some matters to discuss with him, your Majesty, that I
could commit neither to paper nor to emissary.”

“I trust than that the outcome was amicable?” Her eyes glittered
with ruthless amusement, telling me that she knew the answer even before I
spoke.

“No, your Majesty, it was not. We quarreled, and he requested
that I betake myself to hell. I will not trouble him again, I think,” I said
levelly. “But why have you recalled me? Not to inquire into my friendships, nor
yet, I think, to chide me for disobedience.” Her eyes narrowed and she studied
me for a moment before replying, her restless fingers picking at the embroidery
of her gown.

“I learned that you were leaving England for a time, perhaps a
long time. I am dying, cousin, and I have called you to me to say good-bye,”
she waited for my protest, and laughed again when it did not come. “Your
flattery was always of an honest sort, my lord, and I honor you for it. Have
you ever been in love?” The suddenness of the question startled me.

“Once or twice, your Majesty,” I answered smoothly.

“As have I, once or twice,” she retorted, then went on. “My
sweet Robin was the first, though some might mention Thomas Seymour. I was
infatuated with Seymour, perhaps, and flattered that the child I was could
attract a man so worldly wise, though in truth, of course, he was neither
worldly nor wise. Mayhap I was silly, but certainly not so silly as he. Did you
seduce your loves?” Again the whipsaw question caught me by surprise.

“Yes,” I admitted baldly.

“Ah, that I have never had. I thought myself above it,
sometimes, and other times I even admitted to myself that I was afraid. Afraid
of giving that sort of power to any man, afraid of what men do to women who
submit. But now, now I am dying and I cannot help but wonder—I wonder if I was
wrong, I wonder what I have missed, and I know that I am too old to find out.”
A tear traced its way over the painted cheek to fall soundlessly onto the
embroidered gown she wore. I watched its progress, then took her cold hand in
mine.

“Why do you tell me, your Majesty?” I asked softly.

“Because you kissed me once, old and ugly as I am, and as if you
meant it.” She turned her thin face, with its plaster of paint away from me, as
if unable to bear the weight of my gaze. I said nothing for a time, then leant
over, bringing her hand to my lips and pressing a kiss upon her palm. She did
not turn, and I untied the strings of her wrist ruff, letting it fall. Her
tight fitting Italian sleeve was laced from elbow to wrist, and I worked the
lacings loose, still in silence, baring the flesh of her arm. The skin was
fine-grained as silk, and almost as white as the plastering of paint that
covered her face, shoulders and breast. I traced the blue lines of her veins
with my finger before raising her wrist to my lips. She turned then to face me,
and a single tremor ran through her slight body as my teeth pierced the thin
skin and her blood began to flow. Her eyelids drooped with the pleasure that
welled in her, bringing a fulfillment that she had denied herself all her life.

I soon drew back, my fingers pressing the small wounds that
would be closed before her sleeve was laced over them, and gone without a trace
by morning. I took her chin in my hand, catching her gaze as her eyes fluttered
open, and murmured my farewells to her. I kissed her once more, this remarkable
old woman, then left her to her dreams. She would remember my visit, held fast
in her most secret heart, but would never speak of it, and never look upon my
face again.

As I stepped from the room, the order came. “Arrest that man,”
Cecil said, and two men took my arms, while several others stood by. He ducked
back through the doorway, and emerged a few moments later. “It is well for you
that the Queen is unharmed,” he stated. “Will you give me your parole, to come
along quietly, or must I have you fettered?”

“Fetters are not necessary, my lord,” I told him, and he nodded.

I was taken through several chambers to a windowless closet
containing nothing but a bench and a chair. Word was sent to Geoffrey, to come
and fetch me. While we awaited him in the study, Cecil took the chair and eyed
me, sprawling with a nonchalance I did not feel on the bench, for several
minutes before asking abruptly, “Can you think of any good reason why I should
not commit you to the Tower?”

“Can you think of any good reason why you should?” I countered
in surprise, sitting up to stare at him.

“You were to leave England, yet here you are.”

“Such undertakings are not accomplished in a day, my lord! We
leave tomorrow for Dover, and sail for Calais within the week, weather permitting.”

“Why did you seek an audience with the Queen? Did you hope,
behind my back, to persuade her to revoke your banishment? That would be a most
dangerous course, your grace, I assure you! Treachery is an ugly word.”

“Uglier than blackmail? You are the one that has the reputation
for double-dealing, my lord, not I!” Cecil flushed darkly, a vein pulsing in
his forehead, but before he could take any exception to my rash speech,
Geoffrey was shown into the room. Cecil swallowed once, to regain control, and turned
to Geoffrey.

“Your grace, your brother was caught here.”

“So I gathered. I am not pleased, Kryštof,” he said.

“Her Majesty sent for me; I came to say goodbye,” I responded,
indignantly.

“Yes, I have seen her Majesty,” he said, frowning at me before
returning his gaze to Cecil. “My apologies for your trouble, my lord Secretary.
I shall see to it that my wayward brother does not escape my care again.”

“Will you stay in Paris?” There was a calculating glint in
Cecil’s eye. Did he think to persuade Geoffrey to spy for him? I shook my head
and made bold to answer.

“No, my lord. My brother feels that a sojourn in Sybria would be
more practical for my correction,” I said, bleakly. Geoffrey nodded and asked
me to leave the room, while he conferred with Lord Robert.

I paced the anteroom under the watchful eyes of the two
men-at-arms who had stationed themselves at the outer door. I would be a
virtual prisoner in Geoffrey’s adopted homeland, not speaking the language, not
knowing the country, but he had promised that if I kept faith and obeyed him,
in a year or two we would begin to travel once more. He emerged and we left
without a word between us, but once mounted and headed home, he turned to me.

“I have seen her Majesty,” he repeated. “My lord Secretary was
quite ready to clap you straight into the Tower if I was out of reach, and when
I observed your mark upon her, I was inclined to let him! I warned you.”

“I saw no harm in it, since we were leaving!” He reined up,
reaching over to jerk my reins from my hands at the same time. I flinched away
from the fury on his face.

“The harm is in your continual defiance and disobedience! I will
break you to my authority, or you will never leave my country.” I frowned at
that. “I will not risk our family for you, because you have not sense enough to
shun trouble, but needs must run your neck, and all of ours, into Cecil’s
noose!” My hands trembled as I took the reins back from him. “We will be out of
his reach soon,” Geoffrey continued, more gently.

“Yes, leaving him holding evidence that would condemn me to the
stake!”

“Yes, think well upon that, Christopher, but remember that that
document will lose its potency when the old queen dies. Cecil would not be fool
enough to produce such charges in James Stuart’s court, you may be sure.” That
eased my mind somewhat, but I was not certain that James would hesitate to
condemn another for his own besetting sin. I consoled myself with the thought
that upon my return to England, I would set about relieving Lord Robert of that
particular piece of evidence.

Several days later, I watched the white cliffs recede,
glimmering in the glowing dawn. Geoffrey placed a hand upon my arm, and even
smiled when I turned to face him.

“
For what are kings when regiment is gone, /but perfect
shadows on a sunshine day?”

he quoted quietly. “Christopher, we are kings without regiment,
we are perfect shadows. Seven years is not so very long, not for us. That may
be, perhaps, the greatest gift we have to offer, the gift of time. Now, go and
take your rest before the day claims you as you stand.”

My thoughts whirled as I stumbled down the ladder-like stairs to
the darkened cabin. Time. The one thing for which I had hungered throughout my
existence was now mine. I had time.

The End