Like Hampton Court Palace, El Escorial utilised advanced construction techniques: water piped in, waste taken out.

The sewer tunnel emptied onto the slope and flowed away from the palace so the stench never reached the walls. Lined with granite, the sewer was big enough for a grown man to crawl along, as black as pitch with a choking stink that left them all gagging as they stood at the opening. Tying kerchiefs across their mouths and noses, they fixed their cloak bundles on their backs, and then exchanged a brief glance as they decided who would go first.

With a shake of his head, Launceston dropped to his knees and splashed into the sewer. Carpenter roughly thrust Mayhew next, before taking up the rear. Within seconds, they were all coughing and spluttering, swearing profusely, yet obliquely thankful that the vile smell distracted them from the oppressive claustrophobia of the dark, stifling space.

After five minutes of slow progress, Mayhew had a revelation. 'This is our lives in essence,' he spat. 'Crawling through shit and piss towards an uncertain future.'

'At least on this occasion you can keep your head above the surface,' Launceston replied. 'We should be thankful for that.'

A little further on, Launceston came up hard against an obstruction. Feeling around in the dark, he realised it was an iron grille. Just as he informed the others, there was a loud click as a hidden switch was triggered and another grille slid into place behind Carpenter. Mayhew whimpered loudly.

'I dare you to panic,' Carpenter growled.

'A cage ... !' Mayhew began before fighting to calm himself.

Calmly, Launceston defined the shape of the grille with his hands. 'We knew we would not be allowed free access to the palace. The Spanish are the spawn of hell, but they are not fools.'

Mayhew's ragged overbreathing echoed in the confined space, but he knew better than to speak. Launceston withdrew one of the sachets of powder that Dee had given them before they left London and rested it on the point where the grille was bolted into the stone. 'This is not as potent as the mixture Will carries, but it should suffice,' Launceston said. 'Press back and cover your faces. This will not be pleasant.'

Fumbling to unfold the sachet, he dripped a small amount of liquid onto the powder from a hide pouch. The subsequent flash of light and heat threw them back against the rear grille, their heads ringing and their faces burning. When they had recovered, they found the grille hanging loose and it took only a little heaving from Launceston's shoulder to tear it free.

'Dee is a foul black magician,' Carpenter said, 'but I am glad he is our black magician.'

They scrambled along the remainder of the tunnel and eventually emerged into a large pit. Overhead, light gleamed through a series of holes in the seat of the privy.

'Heaven,' Carpenter gasped.

'At least heaven is not obscured by an arse,' Mayhew muttered.

Iron rungs were fixed into the granite blocks lining the pit for workers to climb down to wash out the excrement when it backed up. At the top of the rungs, Launceston listened for anyone in the privy and then cautiously lifted the wooden seat. In the chamber beyond, there was water for washing.

'Hurry now,' Launceston whispered, 'or they will smell us long before they see us.'

Stripping off and discarding their foul clothes down the privy, they washed themselves quickly before dressing in the guards' uniforms. A larger, empty chamber lay beyond, and then a quiet corridor running along the western edge of the palace. Launceston led the way with Carpenter bringing up the rear, ready to change direction at any moment if they heard approaching feet.

Eventually they located the large, steaming kitchens, almost empty now the evening meal had been prepared and served and most of the cleaning up had been completed. From just beyond the door, they watched as bowls and plates were carried, and spice and pickle jars returned to shelves. Waiting until the men had moved away from their vicinity, Carpenter selected a young scullery girl lazily mopping up a spillage not far from the door. Motioning Launceston and Mayhew to stay out of sight, he strode into the kitchen confidently, looked around, and then went over to the scullery girl. Fearing admonishment, she lowered her eyes and pretended not to see him.

In fluent Spanish, Carpenter said to her, 'Please. Will you help me?'

The girl glanced across the kitchen to where her superior oversaw the storage of ingredients for the following day's meal.

'A moment of your time,' Carpenter pressed.

As he had expected, the scullery girl eyed him suspiciously, and so he drew out the crucifix he had taken from the dead sentry and whispered dolefully, 'My mother died this day. I would say a prayer for her, but I cannot be seen to be avoiding my duties. Is there a quiet place hereabouts? For only a moment?'

At the sight of the crucifix, the girl softened. Still glancing around, she took his hand and led him to a storeroom half covered in a white dusting of flour.

'Thank you,' he whispered. As she made to go, he summoned her back and asked, 'What is your name?'

'Chelo.'

'You are a beautiful girl, Chelo.'

She blushed.

'My name is Eduardo. I am new to the palace. I would have worked here sooner if I had known you were in the king's employ.'

She blushed again, but didn't resist when he took her hand. 'Perhaps you would find time to walk with me one day?'

She looked deep into his eyes, and as her pupils dilated, he knew he had her.

'Where are you from?' she began. 'Your accent ... ?'

'My mother is French. I grew up in the New World.'

Her eyes widened with excitement. 'Is it as they say? Dragons in the sea, and silver on the streets ... and a city of gold-'

'All of that and more.' He sealed the connection by kissing her hand. 'But I hear there are wonders here too.'

'Here?'

'An English spy held prisoner? You have heard of that?'

She sighed as if this were the most boring thing in the world. 'Yes, we prepared food for him.'

Carpenter restrained a triumphant grin. 'And where is he being held?'

CHAPTER 42

oosening his belt, Will cracked the stay of the buckle which was hollow inside and stopped with a small blob of wax. He placed this on one side, and then tore off the cuff of his shirt, which he wrapped around the door handle of his chamber cell. He had observed Dee's demonstration before he had left for Cadiz, but he still could not grasp how the combination of powder embedded in the cuff and the liquid in the buckle could have such an effect, and Dee had dismissed all his questions with irritation.

Removing the wax stopper, he turned his head away, covered his eyes, and poured the foul-smelling liquid onto the cuff, before throwing himself across the chamber.

The subsequent explosion deafened him. When he uncovered his head and looked around, he was confronted by a thick cloud of grey smoke that smelled as badly as the liquid, and when that cleared he saw the door was in tatters.

Outside in the corridor, one guard lay unconscious, another attempted to stem blood from a terrible wound on his leg, and a third staggered around in a daze. Deciding the dazed guard was the worst threat, Will put one arm around his neck, the other around his head, and twisted it sharply until the neck snapped.

Вы читаете The silver skull
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату
×