Taste of Treason (20 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

The instant she touched the girl, Alys flung up her arm, the power of the blow sending Gwenette hurtling the width of the room. The force of her impact with the hardwood floor forced all the breath out of her.

Frozen with fear, she watched as Alys turned slowly to face her. Try as she might, Gwenette found herself unable to move for several heartbeats. She thought she could not possibly suffer deeper terror, but one look at that face and her blood turned to ice in her veins.

The figure looked like Alys. It walked like Alys, but it was not Alys behind those eyes.

Gwenette scrabbled to her feet taking in great whoops of air. She ran to the bed, trying to put it between herself and the looming figure. As she reached the bed, however, the coverlet rose and threatened to throw itself over her head. Just in time, she swerved to one side, avoiding its falling prison. The wall hangings swayed although no draft was evident.

The flickering candles went out simultaneously. Gwenette saw tendrils of smoke flowing upwards from them in the remaining dim light from the fire. Even as she looked towards it, the red embers turned black, the flames wavered and died. Darkness descended leaving only the light of the moon to illuminate the figure advancing towards her once more.

“Alys. Child. What ails thee?”

Whatever used Alys gave no response, but instead lifted both arms in a chilling parody of a hawk about to swoop on its prey. The eyes narrowed and a predatory smile spread across the girl’s features. Now the creature did not even look like Alys and it was between Gwenette and the door. This was no time for false steps. She needed to get out and get help. That some dark spirit had taken over the body of the maid she did not doubt.

Seizing a hand mirror, Gwenette reversed it causing the entity to see its own reflection. For a moment, the thing stumbled and thrust up a hand to shield its eyes. Using the momentary advantage thus given her, Gwenette dashed past and reached the door. She wrenched it open ready to scream for aid.

What met her eyes nullified the small margin of time the ruse with the mirror had gained. The chamber was peopled by figures as motionless as statues. Some had been rendered thus as they went about their duties. One man was in the process of feeding logs to the fire. He held a log in his outstretched hand, but the fire was dead and black. Another was in the process of drinking, seated with his goblet fixed halfway to his lips.

Gwenette stopped as if she, too, had been stricken. Her plan had been to run through the Presence and Watching Chambers to the Holy Day closet in the chapel and beg God for sanctuary in his house.

The sound of swishing skirts made her swing back to face the horror closing in on her. It did not rush, but used Alys in careful steps. Gwenette had no illusions that if the entity caught her, all would be lost. Was this Nimrod or Alys or both? She backed away, remembering Luke’s counsel. Scrabbling under her sleeve, she found the ouch and pressed the onyx center as hard as she could before crumpling to the floor.

* * *

Luke gathered his strength and seized his scrip heavy with the ingredients he had placed in it before supper.

“The ouch. Gwenette has pressed the ouch. And by the depth of my pain, they are both in great peril. There is no time to lose.”

“What about the guards?”

“Leave them to me.”

Luke sent out mind tendrils in an attempt to locate Byram Creswell. If there were any physical fighting to be done, nobody could be a braver warrior than the resourceful captain. The elemancer knew that whatever might confront them, Byram would attack first and ask questions afterward. Rob was no slouch when it came to using his fists either. Luke could only pray that their fighting skills and his elemancy would be enough. He raised his head and closed his eyes, the easier to find Byram.

“Follow me, Rob. Stay close.”

They ran across the west front of the palace and followed the river path as far as the water gate. The guards, hearing their running feet, stood ready with pikes thrust out into the darkness. A darker figure stepped forward to confront them.

“Halt. Who goes there?”

“Luke Ballard, Captain. You are needed.”

“How so?”

“I believe Mistress Paige and Alys Palmer to be in danger.”

Byram did not hesitate, for which Luke thanked God with a gratitude that reflected the depth of his fear. The captain spun round and ran towards the palace, shouting at the guards to maintain all vigilance. Sprinting along the south front to the Privy Garden Stairs, the three bounded to the upper level and through to the Queen’s apartments.

Luke’s heart sank at the sight of the yeomen guards on the door, standing dormant with set faces. He heard the hiss of Byram’s intake of breath.

“There is devilry here,” the captain said. “What is going on?”

Luke, ice-cold with apprehension, could hardly move his mouth to articulate the words.

“I do not know what it is, but unless we strive together, we are lost. Now is the time for courage my friends. Keep close behind me.”

He slid under the two crossed pikes of the guards and opened the door. As he feared, all occupants of each chamber had been similarly stricken. Byram hissed a breath at the sight. They hurried through the Watching Chamber into the Presence Chamber and stopped in their tracks.

At the other end, Gwenette Paige, her face a mask of fear and horror, quailed before the entity looming over her. A parody of a head, wagging from side to side like a curious dog, regarded her, but the expression of delight was unmistakable even the length of the chamber away. Luke paused for an instant to take in the black robes that swallowed all the surrounding light and wafted in a nonexistent breeze, before rushing forward, one hand to his nose as the stench of evil hit his nostrils. Twelve months previously, he would have hesitated, but now he did not. This bastard sunderer threatened Gwenette and Luke was the only person standing between her and not just death, but possible eternal darkness.

“Do not touch her,” he bellowed. “She is under my protection.”

A gale of laughter emanated from Nimrod’s open mouth. Luke saw long sharpened teeth as the demon, preparing to devour Gwenette, shifted his gaze. Nimrod’s white face made his red-rimmed eyes even more terrifying. The sunderer’s smile grew broad in satisfaction. Gwenette took advantage of the demon’s lack of attention and with one swift movement drew a pair of shears from her sleeve and stabbed the laughing visage.

The laughter turned immediately to screams and the hands that had been inches away from her throat now flew to its face. In an instant, Luke ran forward and dragged her away, putting himself between her and the fiend. She scrabbled to her feet.

“Oh, Luke. God be praised. You have come. What is it?”

“Byram,” Luke shouted, knowing he must not expose his friends to the evil confronting him. “Get out.”

“What would you have me do? Run like a coward?”

“To the chapel, Byram. Run. Do not tarry. Save Gwenette. Move man. Now.”

“I’m staying with you,” Rob said standing at his side. Luke heard the clatter of Byram’s boots leaving the chamber. Gwenette was safe.

Now he could concentrate on the enemy. His heart warmed at the fidelity of his kinsman and his beloved greyspring. They confronted the enemy, united in adversity.

“She is safe from you now,” Luke shouted. “You cannot hide behind her skirts. Coward. Only a lily-livered faintheart would use a woman thus. Are they the only beings you can bend to your will?”

In response, the sunderer appeared to grow and split into two entities. With a growing feeling of horror, Luke recognized Alys standing alongside Nimrod. Rob’s shriek of horror shook him from his musing.

“It is not her, Rob. It is not Alys. He merely uses her to divide our strength.”

“Of course it is her. Alys, Alys, come to me.”

“Rob, it is not Alys. Look at its face. It is red. Look at its eyes. It is not Alys.”

“Alys, sweetheart, I will help you.”

“No, no,” Luke shouted, his attention split between the boy and the demon. Nimrod did not hesitate. The entity masquerading as Alys turned and smiled at Rob. Luke watched, horrified, but unable to help as the boy ran towards her. He saw Rob reach out his arms and the spirit drift into his embrace. The next second it hurled him against the wall with a sickening thud and a crack of bones that made Luke shudder. Rob’s eyes turned upward and he slid the height of a man down to the floor, landing in an unmoving tangle of limbs.

The parody of Alys burst into peals of laughter and turned to witness its companion destroy the apothecary. Luke, left to face Nimrod with Joss, knew he had never encountered a greater peril. He could not help a shaft of bright love running through him at the sight of his greyspring standing with steadfast devotion, alert and ready, facing the horror that challenged them.

If he were to be swept into outer darkness, he would not be alone. The thought strengthened his heart and resolve still further, filling him with light and love. Reading his mind, the enemy grunted with fury and shot a red beam from his hand that, had it hit Joss, would surely have killed her. Wrath had impaired his aim. In that instant, Luke realized his only hope was to use the strength of the enemy’s anger against him. With a certainty, he knew Nimrod would already be incensed at his seeming inability to destroy this weakling elemancer. Luke must use that to good effect, build on the already festering rage confronting him and try to throw the bastard off balance. The concept of unconditional love, such as that between Luke and Joss, was alien to him.

“So, it is just you and us now,” he said, curving his mouth into a smile. “The strength of God’s love flowing through and between us against you.”

The apothecary’s lack of fear seemed to sow a seed of doubt in the mind of his adversary. Luke felt the concentration of pressure in his head lessen. He forced himself to laugh. Joss nuzzled his hand feeding renewed vigor and clarity into his mind. He stroked her head and motioned her behind him.

“If you expected me to prostrate myself before you in terror, think again. I am not afraid of you. Blood-soaked evil is all you are. An outcast, to be used and destroyed at your satanic master’s will. God has judged you to be less than a crawling serpent. I am your nemesis. A mere Dominus elemancer.”

During this speech, the Alys entity had approached its companion and they now conjoined into a red swirling angry mass that began moving towards him. Luke forced another peal of laughter.

“What, you have nothing to say to me? Why do you not just slip away into whichever midden you call home and trouble us no more?”

As he spoke something large and square flew past Luke’s head and hit the demon. At once, it emitted a howl of pain and rage, but although its advance towards the elemancer slowed, the red miasma of energy-sapping evil stretched out tendrils to the elemancer. Luke’s legs gave way and he landed on the floor winded and unable to move, muttering a prayer to God and his angels for deliverance.

He looked up to find Nimrod gathering his strength to deliver the killing blow. Yet another object hit the enemy’s face and just as Luke’s vision blurred, he heard his own voice declaiming a purging spell. The adversary’s outline blurred, wavered and vanished.

Luke lay where he had fallen, panting from the aftereffects of his ordeal. His chest hurt abominably, laboring to take breaths deep enough for life. What on earth had made him spout all that nonsense about being Nimrod’s nemesis?

Anybody looking at him now would see only a disheveled tatterdemalion, clothes torn, barely able to clamber to his feet. Anything less like nemesis would be hard to imagine. Luke found himself desperate to laugh at the thought, but he lacked the strength.

Joss had vanished. A few moments of total panic transpired before he sensed she had not perished. She would never have abandoned him unless it was imperative. A groan reached his ears. He looked across at Rob as the boy, all energy spent after heaving projectiles at the entity, slid unconscious down the wall. The unnatural angle of one of his arms told Luke the bone was broken, making his final actions even more amazing. The lad’s face was ashen, too. Luke struggled to his feet, knowing Rob needed help. He was distracted by the sound of running feet. First Joss and then Byram sprinted into the room.

Joss ran to Luke, jumping up with her paws landing on his shoulders. She licked his face then dropped to the floor and trotted to Rob, nuzzling him.

“God’s breath, Luke. What was that thing?” Byram’s voice shook with the aftereffects of horror.

“Whatever it was, Byram, my friend, it is gone. Is Gwenette safe? How brave of her to attack it.”

“Indeed. The effort made her swoon halfway to the chapel. She was deadly cold. I could not decide if I should stay with her or return to help you, when your dog came and tugged at my coat. I knew Joss needed me to follow her, so I left Mistress Paige there.”

Luke looked down at his greyspring. He knew she had been with him until the demon had vanished and wondered what imperative had caused her to leave him to fetch Byram. Did she think danger still threatened? He looked from her to Byram and found that the captain regarded him with a wry smile. For the space of five heartbeats, they stared at each other, then Byram grinned and nodded.

“Be easy in your mind, friend. I believe that your actions are sanctioned by God and, as such, that is enough for me. I do not want to know more. Indeed, it is safer for all if I do not. I cannot reveal what I know nothing about. Whatever secrets you hold are safe with me. You are a good man to have on one’s side. You and your dog.”

“I forgot to hide her,” Luke said. “When I knew danger threatened, all I could think of was getting here. If I am caught in the palace with her, it will go ill for us both.”

Byram clapped him on the back.

“Worry not. What about all these people?”

He pointed back at the servants and courtiers still immobile, when a noise made them turn.

Rob was trying to climb to his feet. The boy looked towards the inner chamber. Alys was nowhere to be seen. Byram ran through the door and searched the room. He shook his head before bending to pick up the two objects Rob had flung at the demon and held them out.