used to acting only in their own interests, Master Strangewayes. Each one here will first seek glory before they learn the advantages of humble teamwork.’
The words had barely left the spy’s lips when a man in a black and white embroidered doublet and a cherub mask lunged with his rapier. Will parried easily, but within a moment his blade was flashing in a blur to prevent three attacks at once.
The din of steel upon steel surged all around.
‘Can they not see we have our backs to the Queen and we are defending her?’ Carpenter snarled above the clash.
‘Their blood is up, and like any virgin boy in his first stew it has driven out their wits,’ Will called.
Distracted by one opponent, Strangewayes failed to parry a second and the rapier tore through the sleeve of his left upper arm, raising blood. He cursed loudly, but did not flinch from the fight.
Will parried low to his right, whipped up his sword to deflect a lunge from the cherub-masked man in front of him, and continued through to parry another thrust from a swordsman to his left. Barely had his steel stopped ringing when he returned once more to the first. On the next pass-through, he circled his rapier around the blade of his cherub-masked opponent and with a flick of the wrist disarmed him. The sword flew through the air, the women of the court scattering amid shrieks.
For long moments, Will saw only flashing steel and looming, garish masks. He heard only clash after clash until his ears rang. But then, rising above the clamour, came a high-pitched noise like a bow being drawn across a fiddle, the sound continuing on and on until his teeth were set on edge.
A man in a ram’s mask staggered, his hand fluttering to his forehead. Lurching back and forth like a drunkard, he pitched across the flagstones. The three swordsmen in front of Will hesitated and drew back a step, glancing at the prone figure.
Another man fell nearby, and a woman. Within a moment some twenty bodies were scattered across the hall floor. Dee had worked his magic. As the Scar-Crows dissolved into corpses, the masks hid the worst of the putrefaction but the exposed flesh of the hands and the rising stench sparked panic.
‘The plague!’ a woman screamed.
Will tore off his black mask and shouted, ‘Stay calm, good gentlefolk. Heed the words of Will Swyfte. I stand here as a loyal defender of our Queen. This is no mark of the plague, but a plot, now exposed.’
‘You have been charged with treason,’ a man called. ‘Why should we believe you?’
‘Swyfte speaks truly.’ A still-shaken Cecil lurched across the room towards the throne. As he eyed Will, the spy could see his master’s sharp mind turning, sieving, weighing, seeking out the advantage in this situation. A flicker of a smile crossed the Little Elf’s lips. Turning to the gathered court, he called, ‘Where is the Earl of Essex? Is he not here to protect Her Majesty in this direst moment?’ He shook his head in dismay, sweeping an arm to the gathered spies. ‘Then thank God for my trusty men. For they each suffered hardship and false accusations to see this plot exposed. Master Swyfte is a hero, as we all know. Could anyone here believe him traitor?’
Launceston sidled up to Will and muttered, ‘I could slit his throat before he reaches his chamber.’
‘We will keep that option in reserve for now, Robert, but thank you for your kindness. Sir Robert Cecil is here to test me and make me a better man.’
The other spies stripped off their masks. Will saw the relief in each face, apart from Carpenter’s. The scarred spy looked as if he would never smile again. The secretary called for the ladies-in-waiting to help the Queen back to her chambers to recover, and then beckoned to the man who was once again England’s greatest spy.
While the bodies were dragged away, the spies rested, exhaustion clear in every face. Cecil beckoned for Will to follow him.
‘This is a time for forgiveness and understanding,’ the hunchbacked man said as he led the way through the antechamber and up the steps to the first floor. ‘We have had our differences, you and I, but much of that was undoubtedly caused by the wilful mischief spun by the Enemy’s agents.’
Will knew Cecil would betray him in an instant, if there was some personal gain in it. It mattered little. That was the game, and they both knew the rules.
‘I am sure any differences that remain can be smoothed over, for a small monetary fee and an extended period of recuperation in Liz Longshanks’ Bankside stew.’
‘Enjoy your time, Master Swyfte, for I will have need of you shortly. The Earl of Essex will no doubt remain a buzzing fly in my ear, and I must show Her Majesty that my network of spies is worth more than his.’ The secretary came to a halt at a window overlooking the hunting grounds. ‘I have half a mind to recruit his man Strangewayes. It would annoy the Earl no end.’
‘I would advise against that, Sir Robert. Tobias Strangewayes is a hothead, unreliable, inexperienced-’
‘And I am sure that under your training, Master Swyfte, he will blossom into an exemplary spy.’
Knowing there was no point in arguing, Will curbed his irritation. He peered out into the night and saw the ghostly flames melt away. ‘It is over,’ he said.
‘For now. But we have much work to do to rebuild our defences. The Unseelie Court may strike again, quickly, while we are in disarray. We must never let down our guard.’ Cecil eyed Will askance. ‘I know you dislike me, Master Swyfte, and you feel I am a poor substitute for Sir Francis Walsingham, but I will never allow England to lose this war. We shall defeat the Enemy, whatever it takes.’
Will saw that Cecil believed his own words, but the spy had other things on his mind. He asked baldly, ‘Did you, or the Privy Council, have Christopher Marlowe killed?’
‘Your friend was a threat to England. He had blasphemous views, and treasonous ones too. He had grown apart from the policies of Her Majesty’s government and we could not allow such a famed playwright to express those views publicly.’
Long-suppressed anger surged in Will. He gripped the hilt of his dagger, ready to thrust it into Cecil’s heart.
But the hunchbacked man shook his head and held the spy’s gaze. ‘It was the Privy Council’s intention to have Marlowe sent to the Tower, that is true. But no murder was sanctioned. When news of his death reached us, we were as surprised as you.’
Will couldn’t deny what he saw in the spymaster’s eyes. ‘Kit was not slain by Rowland. The manner of death was different … no ritual marks or cuts. So who killed him?’
Cecil held his hands wide. ‘Marlowe moved on the edges of our society, among thieves and cut-throats, and though he was sent as a spy, he began to enjoy the life of those circles. Death comes quickly and easily there. It may well be that his ending was as meaningless as the circumstances suggest. An argument, over a few pennies.’
‘I cannot believe that.’
The secretary shrugged; there was nothing more he could say.
‘I will not rest until I discover the truth,’ Will stressed. ‘Somewhere, Kit has a hidden enemy.’ The spy turned and strode down the stairs, blood pumping in his head. He had answered every question that had plagued him since the business began, except the one that mattered most.
In the antechamber, Meg waited, a splash of scarlet in the candlelight. She came over to Will and kissed him gently on the cheek. ‘So, you trusted me to stand next to your Queen and not put a knife in her back. What has happened to you, Will Swyfte?’ she asked wryly, her green eyes gleaming.
The spy didn’t know the answer. Everywhere he looked, the world was changing, and few of his old certainties remained. ‘A flask of sack will put the world aright,’ he replied. ‘Will you join me?’
‘Are ye asking me to step out with you, then?’
‘I have a love, Red Meg. She has taken my heart and I cannot offer it elsewhere.’
Will expected the Irish woman to be offended, but she only laughed. ‘Men are such simple folk, and you expect the world and feelings to be just as simple. The heart is harder to navigate than the high seas, Master Swyfte.’
‘What game are you playing now, Meg?’
The woman laughed again, catching herself with a hand to her mouth. ‘We have trust between us now, yes?’ she asked.
The spy thought for a moment, and nodded.
‘Then that is enough for now, and I will ask no more. Let us see where the winds blow us.’
‘I will not abandon Jenny. Do not waste your time hoping.’
