The Queen was singularly cruel, he thought, to remind him of his inconstancy, just as he brooded so satisfyingly upon fickle Alys’s. “No letter, madam.”
Under Montfallcon’s dreadful gaze he toyed with an Oriental bangle.
“Her brothers will not let her communicate with anyone at Court,” he continued, anxious to be released from this double ordeal.
“And you’ve no urge to join them, sir?” Montfallcon knew nothing of Sir Amadis’s infatuation, so his question, in that respect, was innocent.
“I serve the Queen, my lord.”
Lord Montfallcon grunted. “As we all do, Sir Amadis. There is a meeting of the Privy Council. All other business set aside until our debate’s over.”
“What’s the cause, my lord?” Sir Amadis became almost sober.
Lord Montfallcon would not discuss such matters before those who were not of the Council. He looked around him, back and front, side to side, to show his fellow Councillor how Sir Amadis momentarily forgot himself. He made some sounds in his throat.
Sir Amadis noted Quire striding from the maze to save him. “Here’s Captain Quire.”
The Queen brightened.
Montfallcon, seeing how swiftly her colour altered, likened this blush to the unnatural shade of those poppies fed by alchemists with blood and rare earth to give forth an intoxicating and intense perfume for a few hours before withering. “Be wary, madam,” he murmured before he remembered to check himself.
She ignored him.
Montfallcon looked for Kansas and Hawes, but they were not yet free of the maze. Tonight, he thought, he and Kansas would go into the walls, as they had agreed, and there discover the evidence he must have before Quire could be convicted and disgraced. In the meantime he had sent for Tinkler. He would use Quire’s former servant against the plotter.
Captain Quire came up and stood close by the Queen.
Montfallcon turned to Doctor Dee. “Are all our members now aware of when we hold the meeting?”
“I think so, my lord,” said Dee, a little taken aback by Montfallcon’s civility. Montfallcon, these days, found new virtue in old enemies.
The Queen cried: “Ladies. To my chambers. I must change.”
With Quire still beside her she was strolling for her terrace, the maids gathering to attend her. Lifting their backs, the various courtiers looked one to the other, perhaps wondering at how much a number of them had altered in the past few weeks. The Orientals confronted the sober mourners almost as two alien armies might draw up their ranks before a battle.
Sir Amadis, hearing a familiar cry from the maze, made his excuses and, with Indian gold rattling upon his flesh, went running as a dog on the scent.
Within her bedchamber the Queen dismissed her ladies, setting them to seek more formal robes than those she wore, leaving her alone with Quire. She stretched her huge frame upon the sheets and let her head fall into his lap. He stroked her with familiar tenderness. She sighed. “Oh, Quire. Montfallcon’s determined to destroy our idyll. He refuses to believe that I shall return to full Duty in time.”
“What’s so urgent,” casually asked Quire, “that he needs to call a sudden meeting?”
“He’s afraid of war.”
“With Arabia?”
“With everyone. He fears that the Empire must dissolve if present events continue in their courses. The Tatars are ready to make use of any opportunity. There have been disputes for some while concerning Cathay’s borders. There have been reports that the Afghanians seek an alliance with the Tatars, with whom they believe they have more in common. The Perrotts, in order to take their vengeance on Arabia for the killing of their father, are now likely to spark off a dozen different wars. We’ve Poland to consider, and the war they plan. The Tatars will overrun Arabian borders, given the chance, for they know Arabia would attack them. So Montfallcon sees the Perrotts as central to the scheme and would make me marry one of them.”
“Perhaps you should,” said Quire.
She became alarmed. “We would be separated!”
“But our happiness cannot be considered here.”
“It would be stupid to sacrifice my person. You have told me that yourself. Quire-you said that I should not give my soul or my body to the Realm, merely my presence and my brain!” She craned to look, as a small, frightened child might look, into his saturnine face.
He reassured her. “Aye. I think Montfallcon’s mistaken, anyway. Who’s to say the Perrotts in their angry mood would agree to any match? They want vengeance. Besides, I doubt if a marriage could stop war now. Unless it be marriage to Hassan himself.”
“I could not marry Hassan.”
“Marriage to him would at least leave us free to be lovers,” said Quire with a quiet smile. “He would be glad to encourage us, if we were discreet.”
She put a hand to his lips. He kissed the fingers. She stroked his heavy jaw. “No cynicism. Besides, Hassan would demand too much. There are many nobles, I know, who favour the match, for he’s seen as strong and manly. My master.”
Quire nodded. “If you were ever to make a sacrifice-and I say that you should not, as you know-then you should consider marriage to Hassan. It would be the only sane decision.”
She drew him down to her. “Stop. I’ll have too much of this talk later. I love you, Quire.”
His voice contained a note he had never heard in it before as he steadied himself against her passion and said to her: “I love you, too.”
She was Gloriana Regina now, in all her conventional magnificence, the orb in one hand, the sceptre in the other, two gauzy collars behind her back, like fairy wings, a massive starched ruff, stomacher and farthingale, varicoloured brocade and embroidered silks, huge pearls covering her person like tears, diamonds encrusting sleeves and breast. He removed the sombrero and kissed her hand. She was returned from the Council. He took the sceptre and the orb from her and handed them to a footman to replace in their cabinet. He brought her a glass of wine, which she sipped, smiling down on this courteous dwarf.
“You are pale,” he said. He went behind her to loosen her stomacher, barely able to reach over the frame of the farthingale. He fumbled with the laces and she laughed, calling in her ladies.
“There was more to the meeting than I had anticipated,” she said to him.
He sat down in a chair as she was stripped. The ladies smiled at him a great deal. He was a success, for he made the Queen so womanly, which was all they desired for her.
“War’s with us?” he suggested.
“Not yet. Montfallcon spoke much of you.”
“He continues to accuse me?”
“He believes he’ll find evidence. Did you know that these apartments are built upon far older structures? Of course, I told you of my adventure with Una. The one which has given me so many nightmares. Which you, my dear, have banished with so many of my other fears.”
“Aye. She blocked the entrance.”
“Well, Montfallcon thinks there are other doors-in the old wing-near my father’s Throne Room. I told you of what happened to me….”
He raised a hand to stop this drift. “What of these entrances?”
“He says that you were living there for many months before you first appeared at the Tilt. He says that you were the killer of all those who have died or disappeared. He has fallen in with Lord Kansas-who is a good man and a brave one-and together they mount an expedition to hunt out witnesses who’ll testify against you.”
Quire smiled. “Were these murders, then, committed before an audience of rats?”
“It distressed me, Quire, my love. I do not want the walls disturbed. I…” She hesitated. She was in her shift now and was kicking free her shoes. “They are the past.”
“You think they’ll find your father still alive?” He let her come to him, in soft white, to sit at his feet while he
