The Scar-Crow Men

CHAPTER SEVENTY




BOUNDING UP THE ECHOING STONE STEPS TOWARDS NATHANIEL’S chamber, Will drew to a sharp halt at the first window. Sparks of red and gold light glimmered through the diamond panes. The spy felt uneasy as he undid the latch and threw the window open to the warm, fragrant evening.

Barely a sliver of red sun lit the horizon and the shadows now reached across the still hunting grounds which surrounded Nonsuch Palace. In the black line of trees beyond the grassland, bursts of fire came and went. No longer cowed by England’s fierce resistance, the Unseelie Court waited. Leaning out, Will followed the trail of flickering lights in the growing gloom. More than he had ever seen before, they reached around the palace on both sides. An army was there, waiting to sweep in once the final defence fell.

Running on, Will arrived at his assistant’s door and knocked lightly before pushing his way in. Caught in the light of the candle on the trestle, Grace stood with her back to Nathaniel, her arms folded, her chin stuck out defiantly. She glared at the spy. ‘You told Nat to look after me?’

‘I did.’

‘I will not be kept locked up like a child because you fear I will knock my elbows or my knees.’

‘It is your neck I am concerned about.’ Will tried to dampen the annoyed frustration he felt. He had little patience for his friend’s temper at this time. ‘You will do as you are told, Grace. When it comes to saving your life, I will act as I see fit and I will brook no arguments from you.’

The woman turned on him, her small hands bunching into little fists of rage. ‘How much have you kept from me these long years?’

Will felt a cold, hard stone form in his chest. Was this the moment he had long feared? For years he had wrestled with the dilemma of how to keep Grace and Nathaniel close so that he might protect them from the threat of the Unseelie Court, yet how to shield them from the knowledge of the same when the supernatural forces swirled around him like a storm? His two friends deserved to live normal lives, but he had always known that sooner or later the pressures would tear apart his carefully constructed façade. ‘This is not the time,’ he said flatly.

‘I cannot believe that mewling, laughing thing that we have locked away and fed on scraps was accepted as Grace,’ Nathaniel muttered. Will could see the same suspicion in his young assistant’s eyes that Grace took no pains to hide. They both felt betrayed. ‘’Tis the Devil’s work.’

‘There are devils and there are devils, Nat,’ the woman said. ‘In Reims, I saw and heard terrible things, but the ones who held me … they are as shadows in my mind.’

With concern, Will glanced at his assistant, whose features darkened as he tried to recall old fears mercifully locked in his mind.

‘Though I can barely recall my captors, you knew them,’ Grace continued, jabbing a finger towards Will. ‘You have been keeping secrets from both of us, thinking that they would frighten us out of our wits. And, I would wager, secrets that involve the disappearance of my sister Jenny.’ Will was stung by what he saw in her cold eyes.

‘I am a spy. It is my business to keep secrets. There are many things that I do not tell either of you. And that is how it will remain.’

‘Very well then. So you set yourself against me, after all this time.’ The woman turned her back and marched into the shadows in the corner of the chamber. ‘I am not a child any more. It is not for you to decide what is right for me. From this moment on, I will do all in my power to find out the truths that you know, and I will accept the consequences of my actions, for good or ill.’

Putting aside his worry, Will turned to his assistant. ‘Nat, I need to see your good works with Kit’s cipher. Time is short, and this entire conversation may be moot before the night is out. But you should both be careful what you wish for.’

Nodding in understanding, Nathaniel gave a placatory smile and beckoned Will to the trestle where the dog-eared play sat at the edge of the candlelight. There was a quill and a pot of ink, and a single sheaf marked with the assistant’s precise handwriting. The black ink had splashed across the table and Nathaniel plucked a rag to wipe it up before attempting to clean his stained fingers.

Pulling up a stool, the spy studied what Nathaniel had written.

‘There is one last section I have not yet deciphered,’ the young man said. ‘But I will do that forthwith.’ He leaned over his master’s shoulder and added, ‘I know not what help it will be. It makes no sense to me.’

The spy read aloud: ‘As defences fall, the Enemy makes a nest in plain sight of the Queen. Take heed. They hide in mirrors. Four candles will mark the way, at the rose and cardinal, a full fathom deep. Beware.’

The magnitude of Marlowe’s message dawned on Will, and he sat back and repeated in an awed whisper, ‘They hide in mirrors.’