“Not at all.” Una began to lead the way down the stair. “That thing’s probably no more than a wax effigy of someone. No one. He loves you, Your Majesty, don’t you see?”
“I thought so. But then I denied it.”
“I’ve spied on him before. He speaks of you constantly. He is in a fever of wanting you.”
“But he has never hinted…”
“He cannot. He loves you. He fears-well, many things. He fears you will laugh at him. That you will be shocked by him. That you will become afraid of him. He is constantly in a quandary. And, it appears, he is incapable of satisfying himself with any other woman.”
“He seemed confident with that…”
“He pretended it was you.”
Gloriana began to smile broadly. “Oh, poor Dee. Should I-?”
“It would be poor politics, Your Majesty.”
“But excellent sport. And it would make him happy. After all, he has given so much to me and done so much for the Realm. He should be rewarded. There are few who could understand his pain as I understand it.”
“He does not suffer as you suffer.”
“To a degree, Una.”
“But not to the same degree. Be cautious, Your Majesty. Montfallcon…”
“You think it would be destructive. And so it would. It’s four years since I entertained a courtier. They grow ambitious, or melancholy, or wild, then strange humours fill the palace. There are jealousies.”
“And expenses,” said the Countess of Scaith. “You have had to marry so many of them off, bestow estates. Your kindness to those who have loved you…”
“My guilt.” Gloriana nodded to agree with Una. “But you’re right, dear heart. Dee must burn on and I must do my best to continue to treat him as I have always treated him.”
“You still maintain respect, surely.”
“Of course. But it will be harder to milk humour from him, knowing his pain, by setting Montfallcon off against him, as I love to do. It’s poor sport for me and none at all for Dee.”
They crossed a low-ceilinged room and found a broken door through which to enter the tunnel they had left, but, as they stooped, torchlight flared from another door, to their right, and they turned, straightening, afraid.
A small man peered from beneath his upraised hand. He seemed to have a humpback or some other growth upon his shoulder. He wore a leather jerkin and britches and a dark shirt, its collar folded at the neck. He had large eyes and a wide mouth, giving him something of the appearance of an intelligent frog. They raised their own lanterns, assuming the poses suitable to their disguise.
“What’s this?” Una, lounging on the wall, was arrogant. “The dungeon keeper, left behind?”
She saw now that the man’s shoulder carried a small black-and-white cat which sat very straight and still and looked at her with yellow, candid eyes.
“What’s this?” echoed Jephraim Tallow, mocking her. “Two play-actors who’ve lost their way?”
“We’re gentlemen, sir,” said Gloriana boldly. “And might resent your insult.”
Tallow opened his huge mouth and laughed. Una believed in her heart that she and the Queen had been recognised, but such thoughts were scarcely logical here. She stepped forward. “We’re exploring these tunnels on Lord Montfallcon’s business. Looking for traitors, renegades, vagabonds.”
“Aha. Well, you’ve caught one, gentlemen.” Tallow’s smile was insinuating. “Or two, if you like. Me and Tom. Vagabonds the pair of us. Confirmed rogues. Scavengers. But not traitors, nor are we renegades, for we serve no one and therefore can turn against no one. We live on our own account, Tom and myself.” He bowed. The cat clung on. “You’ll see I’m swordless, sir, so cannot offer you the duel you desire.”
“I spoke hastily.” In return Una made a short bow. “We were startled by your sudden appearance here.”
“And I by yours.” Tallow found a stone bench in the darkness and seated himself, crossing arms and legs and staring up at them. “Well?”
“You know these passages, then?”
“They’re my home for the moment. Until I grow tired of them and move on. But I’ve a poor understanding of the real world, which is why I prefer to be separated from it, as one is, of necessity, here. Though I’m fascinated by it, also. This is the ideal habitat for a fellow of my persuasion. And you are Lord Montfallcon’s men, eh? On the Queen’s business, then?”
“Indeed,” said Gloriana with an irony Una felt was dangerously obvious.
“I guessed you to be some of the large palace beasts at first,” said Tallow. Una suspected this remark to be pointed failure to sense Gloriana’s meaning.
“Beasts?” said the Queen.
“They hibernate in the winter. A few of them are beginning to rouse. Creatures of all sorts. They make life dangerous for the rest of us. Now, tell me the truth, gentlemen. Montfallcon will have no one in the walls. It does not suit him. You are escaped from some imprisonment, or threat of it, and seeking a hiding place, I’d guess.”
“Montfallcon knows…?” Gloriana hesitated.
“Of the darker places of the palace? Oh, aye. Some of ’em, at least. But Tallow knows ’em all. Shall we be friends? You’ll have me for your guide.”
“Aye,” said Gloriana, rather too readily in Una’s opinion. “Friends it is-and a guide, Master Tallow.”
“These rooms go down deeper and deeper,” Tallow told them. “To natural caverns where blind, white beasts blunder and devour one another. To halls so ancient they were hewn from living rock before the first Golden Age. To strange cloisters inhabited by dwarfish men who were here before true men walked the Earth. All this lies below the palace which lies below the palace. These haunts are modern in comparison, a few hundred years old. The true antiquity is so alien to us that it plays tricks upon our minds should we merely be witness to it. And yet, I know, there are those who dwell there, no longer sane, in our eyes, though eminently sane in their own-men and women, once. They breed, some of them, I think.”
Una lifted her shoulders back. “You seek to frighten us, Master Tallow?”
“No, gentlemen. I receive no relish from alarming others. I speak of it as a curiosity, that’s all.” He reached up and stroked his cat. “It’s cold here.”
“Aye,” came Gloriana’s small voice.
“I’ll take you to the warmer parts,” Tallow said. “Come. You can meet a few of your fellow exiles-those who have no objection to being met, that is. Most of the folk who dwell here are inclined to be reclusive. It is why they choose to live between the walls.”
“How many?” Gloriana whispered.
“I’ve never counted ’em, sir. A hundred or two, maybe. We live, most of us, by scavenging. And there’s superstitious servants to rely upon, too. Those who think us devils or faeries and put out tidbits for us. But they misjudge our size. A strapping fellow like you, sir, needs meat every day to maintain such a huge frame. You have an unusual figure, sir.” Tallow spoke casually as he led them on. “There’s only one other I know who possesses such size.”
“We’d best return,” said Una urgently. She stopped in her tracks, taking Gloriana by the arm. “No time for further exploration now.”
But Gloriana had shaken her off and advanced. Una was forced to follow.
The passage widened, opening upon a very large hall, like a covered market. Flickering torches illuminated the place and an unruly fire burned in a grate at one end, while around the walls, in changing flame-cast shadows, as nomads might camp, small tents or groups of tents: tiny territories marked out by means of ropes, or rubble, or pieces of half-rotten furniture, or blocks of stone torn from the very foundations of the hall. And white faces stared from shawls and hoods and hollows: thin faces, for the most part, with large eyes, as if already these people adapted to the glooms: another race.
Gloriana stopped dead when she saw the scene and was bumped against by Una, who, lost in her own rapid thoughts, noticed it a few seconds later.
“Who are these?” the Queen whispered.
A great figure had risen from beside the fire and stood in silhouette, pausing as if to confront the newcomers. Then it had dashed into deeper darkness and was gone.
Una, full of dread, gripped the Queen’s arm. “No,” she implored. “We must return.”
Tallow was amused. “She is shy, the mad woman. Of all of us. But you shouldn’t fear her.”
