Taste of Treason (18 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Creswell leapt forward. “What are your orders, Sire?”

Henry’s demeanor had changed in an instant from rampaging tyrant to frightened boy, clinging momentarily to his mother for support.

“We must take steps.” The King’s voice had lost every trace of bluster. “Where is Her Grace?”

Queen Anne maintained her calm demeanor but Luke could feel her disquiet.

“She rests in our apartments, Your Majesty,” she said, her voice sounding strained and higher pitched than usual.

Her eyes held Luke’s in a steady gaze and he knew that, for the moment at least, the Queen was under the protection of her mother-in-law’s magic, but he found himself unable to look away from Anne’s scrutiny. Was she trying to tell him something? If so, what? He became aware of the silence, that Henry waited for his response, but his tongue seemed paralyzed. Then he saw Queen Anne frown and shake her head before turning to the King. She curtsied again.

“Your Majesty, I believe I see what is in your mind. How fortunate we are to have such a clear-sighted ruler, one who grasps the essentials of a problem so quickly.”

“Then you think as I do, Madam?” Like his father, the young Henry was quick to take on somebody else’s ideas and present as if he had thought of them first.

“Indeed, Sire. I do not believe Her Grace to be in immediate danger. Nevertheless, I believe you are right. It would be a sound notion to identify a new set of apartments for her confinement. I pray pardon I did not think of it myself and take the burden from you.”

Henry inclined his head. “It is good that some of us have wit enough to deal with such things.”

“Pardon my plain speech, Sire, but you have a realm to govern. If you would allow it, I believe Master Ballard and I can undertake to see to the Queen’s security. As you will already have surmised, it must not be known where the new apartments are. May I suggest that you give out that the Queen is indisposed and keeping to her privy bedchamber? Maintain the pretense of guards at her doors, with servants in the outer chambers. Let all see food and drink being taken in to her bedchamber. So long as the bed curtains are drawn, nobody will know she is not there. That leaves the problem of making sure none see through the charade.”

Henry thought for a moment.

“I do see a way of preventing discovery,” he said. “Mayhap it chimes with your thoughts?”

“We think as one on this matter, Sire. Mistress Paige has my full confidence.” She turned to Gwenette. “Would you be willing to keep up the pretense that my daughter-in-law rests in her chambers? I can declare that you are in close attendance on her.”

If Luke needed any further proof of the true relationship between Gwenette and the Queen Mother, this was it. Servants were there to be ordered, not asked. He leaned forward.

“If Mistress Paige will consent, I have an idea who else might help her.”

The Queen Mother nodded. “Anything that will avert the tragedy hanging over us.”

“Madam, one of Edith Brook’s friends was Alys Palmer, you remember, the child who was discovered with the dagger when Magot was found?”

“Aye. Go on.”

“She was one of the Queen’s maids and is thus familiar with the palace. Might I suggest that she helps Gwenette? The guards and other servants will know she serves the Queen. Not only will it strengthen the belief that the Queen is there, but Alys’s presence will not excite comment.”

“A sound solution,” Anne replied. “We announce that after her recent ordeals, the Queen needs total rest and seclusion.” She looked around. “Does everyone agree?”

Gwenette curtsied. “I am willing to do anything to protect the Queen.”

Luke turned back to Henry. “You must be your wife’s only visitor, Sire.”

“And how do you expect to keep this secret? What about her physicians?”

Luke bowed. “You are the King, Sire. You may do as you wish. If you issue a royal decree, none will dare gainsay it.”

“Indeed not, Master Apothecary,” Queen Anne said. “Just give out that Her Grace is in excellent health, but has been ordered to rest more. You do not have to say who has given the order. All will assume it has come from the physicians, and each physician will think another has issued the instruction.”

Henry thought again before nodding.

“Can you guarantee my Queen’s safety, Master Ballard?”

“No, Sire, but I will give my life for her.”

Luke felt Joss’s nose nudge behind his knee, almost as if she wanted to be included in the enterprise. He knew that the Queen Mother could see his greyspring, as, indeed, he could see hers. To the rest of the room, though, under the power of the shimmer spell, Joss would appear as only a patch of light.

Queen Anne stood. “I will return to my apartments. You may follow in due course, Master Ballard.”

Luke once more dropped to his knees, before preparing to rise and step backward out of the royal presence. Henry’s gaze, a bayonet of anger, rendered him immobile.

“Do not forget the weight resting on your shoulders, Master Apothecary. England’s future depends on you alone. We cannot always be at your shoulder to aid your enterprise. You must not fail.” The King leaned forward. “We can be extremely imaginative if someone has displeased us, with expert practitioners who can divine your worst nightmare and make it reality. Now go.”

Luke needed all his strength and determination to bow and withdraw. Once the door was closed, he turned and walked with unsteady steps through the apartments. He was almost at the door of the Presence Chamber before he realized that the sight of the Outer Green apothecary emerging from the King’s privy apartments would provoke gossip and speculation.

Thinking quickly, he almost ran along the gallery to the Queen’s old apartments where poor Edith Brook had died because of her name. It should be easy to slip through to the Chapel and from thence down the stairs. Whatever happened, he must make sure that he was not observed.

The gallery was deserted. He eased open the door and slid through. Now that he was truly alone, apart from Joss, Luke allowed himself to slide down the wall in relief that he was still in one piece and not being transported to the Tower.

His admiration for Anne Boleyn knew no bounds. What a woman. What a queen. She had read him as easily as a leaf of parchment and he had felt nothing as she stripped his mind bare. Then with consummate ease, she had persuaded Henry not only that the plans to safeguard the Queen came from him, but also that he was too busy with other matters to oversee this one and should leave it to her and Luke. Her skill was superb, her mind still agile and inventive. She had controlled the situation and Henry without his having the least idea of it.

Luke leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. Danger still snapped at his heels. He thought he had identified his opponent, but he was by no means certain that he was right. It would not do to make that assumption. Yet.

Thinking back only a few short hours to the sight of the priest almost frothing at the mouth in rage, he could well believe Frayner had enough anger within him to be a bastard sunderer. The smile that rose unbidden to his lips died. Had not another sunderer proved the previous year how his fury was liable to overtake his senses? Had he kept a cool head, Luke might well have failed.

Nimrod had to be working through someone, but he had not chosen his tools wisely. Was part of his imperfection that he felt threatened by intellect in others? Did he need underlings incapable of thinking for themselves? Luke had been in error to believe that the sunderer was infallible. Only God was perfect. He congratulated himself on suggesting Alys to keep Gwenette company in her lonely vigil. Apart from other considerations, it would put the child out of the reach of Frayner’s long nose and even longer arm.

* * *

Alys reached up, one hand to either side of Rob’s face.

“Mayhap love has given me daring, sweetheart. This afternoon, after the funeral, Father Frayner accosted Master Ballard. He defended me against the priest’s accusations, tried to protect me from his anger. He spoke for both of us against the Queen’s confessor when I found the dead man. You and Luke have shown me nothing but compassion. Should I repay your kindness with faint heart? If he is in trouble and we can help, then we must. I know I will be safe with you. Now, keep close to the walls. That is what the other maids do and I have never known them be discovered.”

Rob followed her through into the corridor near the Chapel Royal. They heard the tramp of the guard’s patrol and fled into the sanctuary of the chapel. Light from the few candles did not penetrate the dark recesses and the atmosphere felt heavy with menace.

“What do we do now?” muttered Rob, feeling her hand begin to tremble in his.

“I’ve managed to get us inside,” Alys replied. “It’s your turn to think of something.”

“Like what?”

“How should I know?” she said, her voice beginning to rise.

“Because you brought us here.”

Before she could answer, Rob put his hand over her mouth. He had heard the light whisper of soft shoes coming down the stairs from the Queen’s Holy Day closet. Pulling Alys into the shelter of a dark corner, he put a comforting arm around her and turned her face into his shoulder.

Rob’s keen eyes saw a cloaked shape poised at the bottom of the steps. At the same time, another taller silhouette seemed to materialize inside the door. The boy breathed a sigh of relief. Had Rob and Alys arrived a few moments later, discovery would have been certain.

“Where have they taken her?” a deep voice asked.

Alys went rigid in his embrace and he could feel her fingers digging into his arm through the cloth. The sound of the sentry returning on his beat prevented the second man from answering. Without a word, the first figure slipped back up the stairs. What happened to the other, Rob could not see. The guard came in and looked around, then, seeing that all was still and quiet, turned and resumed his patrol.

“Rob.” Although his ear was only inches away from her mouth, he could barely hear her. “I think those were the same men from Hampton church.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Gwenette perched on a stool by her mistress’s feet. She watched the Queen Mother’s fingers beat an absent-minded tattoo on the padded arm of her chair. They had not long returned from the King’s privy apartments, but there was, as yet, no sign of Luke Ballard. After a while, Gwenette rose.

“Madam, can I do ought for you?”

The Queen Mother sighed. “My mind is disturbed and that makes me restless and hungry. I crave something sweet.”

Gwenette smiled at the guilty expression on her mistress’s face.

“I will go and fetch you something, Madam. Should I wake your steward and ask him to unlock the stores in your privy kitchen?”

“Nay, it is late. Do not disturb him. I am sure the palace kitchens will have something.”

Stopping to drape a dark shawl around her head and shoulders, Gwenette slipped from the rooms. Keeping to the shadows, she made her way across the Base Court into the corridor by the kitchen. Lit by two sputtering torches, it was full of dark, eerie depths. Gwenette heaved a sigh of relief when she reached the kitchen door and saw the glow from the main fire. A few servants would be on hand to help her. As she reached out to push the door farther open, someone seized her by the arm, causing her to stifle a scream.

“Who are you?”

“Mistress Paige on an errand for Queen Anne.” Despite the jolt of fear, her voice was steady.

The grip on her arm eased and, turning, she saw Clifford Parry, the Queen’s Chamberlain staring at her.

“What errand?”

“Her Grace is hungry and desires something sweet, but that is no business of yours, Master Parry.”

“Have you not heard about the attempt on the Queen’s life?” he answered. “His Majesty has put new security measures in place, and I am charged with ensuring that nothing of this kind can occur again.”

Gwenette drew herself up, glaring at the insult.

“And you suspect that I, serving the lady I do, would do aught against the Queen?”

“I suspect everyone.”

Despite the dim light, Gwenette saw fear in the man’s expression and heard it echoed in his voice. He was scared for his skin. As well he might be, she thought.

According to Queen Anne, Henry had been torn between fury that the mother of his heir could be so easily endangered and anxiety that he did not make too great a fuss, lest the Queen be upset still further.

Gwenette’s few opportunities to see Parry at close quarters had confirmed her opinion that he was a blustering bully, still finding his way in his post. For all that he had many contacts within the palace, few would have shown him the least understanding this day. Most would have shunned him, thankful that the King’s wrath had not fallen on them. Any intelligence she could glean, however, would be of use to Luke. That was reason enough for Gwenette to pry. Mayhap she could discover new information, but first, she must feign sympathy.

“But surely the King does not hold you responsible?” she said, making sure that her tone was full of disbelief.

Her plan worked just as she had hoped. Parry gave a mirthless laugh.

“How I wish more reasoned as you do, mistress. You have been in the Queen Mother’s service a long time and understand the workings of the court.”

“Indeed,” Gwenette replied, picking up on his desire to unburden himself. She walked through the door, beckoning him to follow.

“Here is a bench. Sometimes all a body needs is to speak. If I can aid you, sir, I will.”

“I fear someone attempts to discredit me with the Queen,” Parry said, seating himself beside her.

“But why?”

“You know that the court is always a hotbed of minor plots and conspiracies, Mistress Paige. I suspect somebody close to His Majesty wants my post for one of his relatives or friends. What better way of achieving that than by arranging for me to be executed for an attempt on the Queen’s life? I would be a convenient scapegoat. How does one prove one has not done something?”

The man was right. The circle around the monarch was always full of intrigue. Her mistress would know the families of those close to Henry and who was likely to be behind any plot to oust the Chamberlain. She must gather food quickly and return with this news. But first, she needed to shake off her companion. She put her hand on his arm.

“Master Parry, you need sleep. Return to your rooms and put these fancies out of your head. There is no way you can serve the Queen as you would wish if you are too weary to think properly.”

“You speak true,” he said, climbing to his feet and stumbling a little as he left.

Gwenette frowned. Despite her wish to return to the Queen Mother, something about Parry’s behavior piqued her curiosity, so she followed him. Keeping to the wall edges, she saw him turn the corner, and flitted to peer around it. She could see Parry, head down, moving past the chapel door.

A flicker of movement at the far end of the corridor in the nimbus of light from one of the sconces distracted her. Memory nagged until she placed the momentary vision of a dark cap decorated with a jaunty peacock feather. Ambassador Fuentes. He had swept the cap from his head when he had encountered Queen Anne on her way to prayers. What was he doing out and about at this time of night?

The sound of voices alerted her to the fact that someone was in the chapel. Gwenette tripped down the corridor, flattening herself against the wall. It seemed as if Parry had found another wanderer.

“Things have been happening that appear to be a threat to the Queen.”

The deep voice could belong only to Father Reynard, the Queen’s confessor. Was everybody walking around in the middle of the night?

“I felt the need to pray for guidance,” she heard Reynard say. “We must make sure that no more mischief is in progress that could threaten my royal mistress.”

“Heaven forefend,” Parry replied. “Anything that endangers the safe arrival of the heir is to be prevented at all costs.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Reynard said. “Mayhap you would like to join me on my patrol.”

Gwenette slipped back to the kitchens before her presence was discovered. She helped a scullion put together a plate of sweetmeats and returned to her mistress. Her relief when she saw Luke was obvious.

“Thank God you have arrived,” she said. “I have much to tell.”

* * *

Luke heard Gwenette’s story without comment and remained silent after she had ceased speaking. He glanced at the Queen Mother to assess her reaction, but her expression told him nothing. He frowned and looked at Gwenette again.

“Do you not believe me, Master Ballard?”

“I know you too well to disbelieve you. It is logical to assume that the more information one garners about something, the further it is rendered explicable. How I wish it were so in this case. Each piece of intelligence muddies the waters more than the previous one.” He thought for a few more moments. “We must proceed with the plan and get Alys here without being seen, Your Grace.” Luke said, turning to Anne. “The sooner we have the decoys in place, the safer the Queen will be. I can only pray that the waters will clear and show me the way.”

“And that our combined magical skills can surpass those of a powerful sunderer.” she added.

“Nimrod has his limitations, and we have advantages he does not possess.”

“Really?” the Queen Mother mocked. “What are they?”

“His limitations are pride and anger. His pride makes him choose inferiors to manipulate lest they best him. He does not put himself in direct danger, but controls those he can intimidate or worse. We must never forget that we have God on our side as well as our joint skills. The demon cannot defeat Him.”

“And his fury?”

“He is quick to anger and when rage overcomes him, becomes hasty and impetuous.”

“And that helps us how, Master Apothecary?”

A loud knocking at the door of her apartments made them jump. She motioned him to hide behind the heavy curtain. Through a small hole, he watched as one of the ladies-in-waiting scurried in and curtsied.

“Your Grace, there is a guard outside with a raggedy boy and girl who says she is a servant of the Queen. They crave admittance.”

Luke saw Queen Anne shoot a glance at the curtain behind which he hid.

“Are they unarmed?”

“Aye, Your Grace. They have no weapons. The guard has already examined them.”

“Wait outside until I consider this. Make sure the guard stays, too. I may wish to question him.”

After a pause, Luke saw her walk towards his curtain.

“Well, Master Ballard, can we guess who these visitors might be?”

“Rob is under a Fidelis spell to me, Your Grace. So long as he knows we are working together in this enterprise, his tongue will be stilled. The girl knows where I was taken. Between them they have accomplished what we needed. Alys is here.”

“And the guard?”

“Misremembrance spell, Your Grace. Send Gwenette to bring them in and we can accomplish all that we need without fuss.”

His eyes met hers through the hole in the curtain.

“You know much, Master Ballard.”

Luke did not pretend to misunderstand her.

“I have been aware for some time that Gwenette is as fully in your confidence as Rob is in mine.”

Within minutes, a bemused guard was escorted from the Queen Mother’s chambers glowing at the thanks she had bestowed on him for the logs he clearly remembered bringing for her fire. Once more Luke marveled at the depth of her skills.

The most difficult thing about the whole plan was persuading Rob that Alys would be quite safe with Gwenette in the Queen’s apartments.

“I am not easy in my mind about her, Master Ballard,” he repeated with an obstinate set to his mouth.

“Rob, believe me that I shall know the minute anything threatens either of them. Gwenette is my friend. Do you think I would willingly put her in danger? Alys, talk to him. I must speak with Gwenette.”

He drew his friend to one side.

“I have something for you, Gwenette, something I need you to keep secretly.”

He put his hand into his sleeve and pulled out a broad velvet ribbon. Clipped on to it was a jeweled ouch with a large blue central stone nestling in leaves made from gold.

“Hold out your arm.”

She did so, looking from the ornament to him, her expression one of utter confusion as he fastened it around her wrist. Her voice when she spoke was breathless with emotion.

“Luke, that is beautiful. Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”

Embarrassed by her misreading of the purpose of the ouch, Luke could not meet her gaze.

“This is for your protection,” he said. “I know you for a courageous lady but you are going into danger. The instant you feel you are in peril, press the blue stone. It is attuned to me and I will come to your aid immediately.”

Blood rushed to her face.

“Ah, not a gift, then.”

Luke squeezed her hand, forcing her to look into his eyes.

“A man is lucky who has friends, Gwenette. You are my friend and I will do my utmost to protect you. Now, hide this under your sleeve and tell nobody you have it. Rob and I must go. I hope Alys has been able to talk some sense into him.”

It became clear as Luke and Gwenette joined the others that Alys’s efforts had met with little success.

“Think of it, Rob. I shall be in the palace, within calling distance of guards and other servants. What can befall me? I am surely safer here than at your house, where that awful priest can reach me whenever he wishes and take me for questioning, just as he did to Master Ballard’s friends.”

“Master Panton,” Queen Anne said, flashing him her most alluring smile. “Shall I make it easier for you?” She paused whilst Rob, still suspicious, nodded. “Then I give you a royal command,” she continued in a hard voice dripping with anger. “You worry over a serving maid when the royal heir is threatened? What kind of loyalty is that?”

Rob looked up at her.

“One born of love,” he answered.

Luke spun round and beat the wall with his fists, causing Queen Anne to burst into peals of laughter, her good mood restored.

“In that case,” she said. “We will take great care of Mistress Alys. Talking of love, there is one more thing we must put in hand.”

“Your Grace?” Luke said frowning. What had he forgotten?

“Mistress Ysabel Broome. She must not be permitted to regain the favor she once held with the King whilst the Queen is in confinement. I will think of some diversion for her.”

“Why not send her back to her home?”

Queen Anne frowned at him.

“Do you not think we have considered that?” she asked, at her most haughty. “She is considered to be part of the King’s household, not ours, and as such, we have no direct authority over her. If we could ensure that she never troubled the court again, we would not hesitate. We may be able to persuade our son that the Queen would be easier in her mind without the strumpet at court. That, however, is our task. Go now and see to yours.”

Rob’s demeanor on the walk home was sullen and he spent most of the time arguing with Luke about Alys. It was not until they were almost home that he told Luke about the two men in the chapel.

Luke stopped and grasped his arm.

“You are saying that the men you overheard in the chapel and the men Alys saw in the church at Hampton were the same?”

“Aye, that’s what she said.”

“You realize what this means, Rob. Who would have ready access to the church, whether here at the palace or in Hampton?”

“Somebody wanting to pray?”

Luke pressed on. “And who by his actions has caused us much heartache in recent days? Who had Corbin and Bertila taken for questioning? Who refused to bury Edith and was forced to do so?”

Luke saw comprehension dawn in Rob’s eyes. “Aye. Frayner,” he said. “But if he came to the palace, he would be seen.”

“Think, Rob. Have you and Alys not proved tonight that those who wish to get in unnoticed can do so with ease?”

Rob nodded.

“There is more you do not know, Luke. In the village, I listened to people in the tavern. It is certain that Frayner did not pray for Edith’s soul nor ask forgiveness for her. He did not commend her spirit to God. She will have been cast into outer darkness.”