And Less Than Kind Read online

  Everyone at the table was now looking quizzically at Elizabeth, Denoriel in particular with a slightly cynical smile. Elizabeth sighed. "Oh, very well, and because I am so sure that Mary will make a right shambles of ruling. She is convinced that the realm will joyfully follow her back under the pope's authority and will so welcome the return to the old rite that they will gladly restore the Church to what it was."

  Harry groaned. "She cannot believe that, can she?"

  "She will do it." Elizabeth said.

  "The Council will not, nor will the Parliament permit it," Harry remarked, shaking his head. "All the gentry will resist violently if she tries to take from them the Church lands my father distributed, and the common folk will resist paying Peter's Pence to the pope. Nor will they willingly accept again the summoners and pardoners who so befouled Catholic practices."

  Elizabeth nodded, a small smile just lifting the corners of her mouth. "Before Mary is done, the people will eagerly be looking toward me to be queen as to a bright salvation."

  She could say Underhill what would have her executed in the mortal world, and she did say it, looking challengingly around. Pasgen shrugged, indifferent. Rhoslyn bit her lip; she was very fond of Mary but suspected Elizabeth saw more clearly how the people of England would react than Mary did or ever would. It was Harry who frowned and shook his head.

  "That may be so," he said. "But do not make the same mistake as our sister. I agree that Mary has not the disposition nor the understanding to rule—neither did I have it. But there will be many who benefit from her mistakes, and they will not look to you. And worse, Bess, the more you become a focus of the discontent against Mary, the greater will be your danger."

  That silenced Elizabeth, who bit her lip and shuddered. Denoriel leaned across the table and took her hand. Harry put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her, but turned his head to gesture at a server, a very ordinary kitsune, whose dark eyes were very bright in her fox face.

  "Wine," Harry said. "Human rumney or white malmsey. Or, if you have both, a bottle of each."

  "That will do for us also," Denoriel said, then looked at Aleneil. "Unless you want mead or nectar, Aleneil?"

  She shook her head. "We are all being corrupted by living so much in the mortal world. White malmsey will do well for me. Which is your preference, Rhoslyn? Pasgen?"

  "I want nectar," Pasgen said. "I need something to wash away the sour taste of restoring the memory of the guardsman whose place I have been taking." He grimaced. "I must feed the memories slowly so that they seem the man's own."

  The server nodded and strode away, her handsome red-fox tail swaying behind her. For the next few minutes everyone concentrated on what they wanted to eat and by the time the server returned with the wine and nectar they all had made selections. When the kitsune was headed toward the kitchen, Elizabeth remembered what she had asked Rhoslyn and not been answered.

  "If Mary is free, why did you say you do not know for how long?" Elizabeth asked, and then, with widening eyes, "Is she being attacked?"

  "Again I must say not yet, but she has cast her gauntlet in Northumberland's face and he must do something, and that soon."

  "Cast her gauntlet . . ." Elizabeth's eyes blazed golden. "She has declared for the throne!"

  "Yes." Rhoslyn sighed. "Two days ago, when we reached Kenninghall we had news of Ridley's sermon declaring you and Mary bastard and unfit to rule. She sat down at once and wrote a letter to the Council, rating them harshly for not sending her immediate notice of her brother's death and not proclaiming her queen as set by law in the Act of Succession. She stated clearly her right to the throne and her intent to take it."

  "Thank God for that," Elizabeth breathed. "If she had yielded her right, my own would be worthless."

  "Oh no. Yielding was never considered," Rhoslyn assured her. "Mary might have fallen into Northumberland's trap, but that was because she wished so much to save Edward's soul. She was so sure once he knew he was dying that he would turn to the 'true' faith."

  Elizabeth shook her head. "How was she turned from that good work?" she asked rather tartly.

  Rhoslyn spoke just as dryly. "Jane Dormer pointed out that if she fell into Northumberland's hands in the attempt to save her brother's soul, she would surely lose the chance to save the souls of all the English people."

  "Mine, too, no doubt." Elizabeth sighed and closed her eyes.

  Denoriel squeezed Elizabeth's hand and spoke hastily to distract her; there was no sense in Elizabeth worrying about how to deflect Mary's desire to make her accept Catholicism until she knew how intense Mary's attempt would be.

  "So, how did you escape Northumberland's troop?" he asked.

  "That was rather strange," Rhoslyn said. "We were riding hard for Kenninghall disguised as John Huddleston's servants when a troop burst out of a wood behind us. We thought we were lost as our horses were weary and they were many more than we, but they never tried to overtake us merely riding along behind, matching their pace to ours. And when we arrived at Kenninghall they stopped a quarter mile or so from the gate. One man alone rode to the gate, naming himself Mary's devoted servant, Francis Howard."

  "Francis Howard?" Harry said. "I don't remember any Francis Howard. I remember far too many Howards, but no Francis."

  "Mary did not remember any Francis Howard either," Rhoslyn continued. "Fortunately he did not ask to be admitted. We would have been in a quandary if he had asked. He said he and his troop would do their best to divert Northumberland's men and to bring to Lady Mary those who would support her, and then he rode away."

  The kitsune returned with the food on a tray that floated in the air. When it had to consult a tablet on the tray to see which dish went to which person, Pasgen said, "Where is the other server who is usually here on mortal Tuesdays?"

  "You don't like my service?" the kitsune asked, the fox tail beginning to lift.

  "Your service is fine," Aleneil said quickly. "We are just curious about what form the other server would take, since it has been different each time we came."

  The kitsune wiggled her shiny black nose. "It is aestivating or undertaking some other kind of renewal." The tail lowered and wagged slowly from side to side. "I will tell it you were asking for it."

  When the kitsune had moved away, Pasgen sighed. "There is one single thing I like about the mortal world. When you eat or drink at an inn or an alehouse, the servers just serve. They do not make clever remarks nor take offense at whatever you say."

  Denoriel laughed aloud. "You must tell me where you eat and drink. I've never found the servers in the places near Bucklersbury to be backward about coming forward, specially the women."

  Elizabeth sat up straighter, her eyes growing bright. "Denno! For what do you need—"

  "What I need," Denoriel said hastily, "and that most urgently is to know more about Francis Howard and his troop."

  "I cannot help you," Rhoslyn said. "I assure you we would like to know more also, but by the time we had settled Lady Mary in bed—we had ridden altogether near sixty miles—and explained to the master in charge of Kenninghall what we wanted, the troop was long gone. I suppose if he has something to say, this Francis Howard will come again or send a messenger."

  "Or send a larger troop to take Kenninghall," Harry said slowly. "Oh, it is not very likely, since you say they could have overtaken you on the road and did not, but there may be some reason for that. Perhaps this Francis Howard wishes to ingratiate himself with the Dudleys and is not certain just how far he could go to take Mary prisoner. Now that her presence in Kenninghall is known, I just do not think it is safe for Mary to stay there. Kenninghall is moated; it is somewhat defensible, but not really a castle. An embattled queen should be in a castle."

  Rhoslyn closed her eyes and her shoulders slumped. "I do not want to believe you, but I do. Only Mary is exhausted. I do not think she can go farther right now. She needs a few days of rest."

  Pasgen frowned. "If we are attacked, she must and she will
go on. But while there is no threat, I agree she can be allowed to rest. I will see that the captain sends out scouts to warn us of any body of armed men approaching." He grimaced. "I have some influence since I killed that assassin."

  "And I will suggest to Mary that her consequence will be greater if she takes residence in a place of importance, like Framlingham. It is not far away and is almost as strong as a royal castle."

  By July 18 Albertus was quite at ease when he activated the amulet that would take him from Otstargi's house in London to Caer Mordwyn. He was confident that his master and mistress would be pleased with his report, for Francis Howard—he had dropped the Mowbray from his name as soon as Edward died—had done very well indeed. Far more than Albertus had known enough to advise.

  Francis must have personal reasons to want Mary to be queen, Albertus thought as he followed the Sidhe who often greeted visitors to the palace toward Aurilia's apartment. Albertus suppressed a smile; that Sidhe had several times teased and once physically tormented him, when he arrived, but would do so no more. Aurilia had "instructed" that cruel, beautiful monster that she and she alone had rights over Albertus's person. His thoughts returned to Francis's personal commitment to Mary. There was no need to admit that he had not known of it when he chose Francis to lead the troop.

  Aurilia was seated at her dressing table rather than stretched out on her long-seated chair. She turned her head when Albertus entered and watched him bow low.

  "So you have good news," she said.

  "Yes, my lady, very good, very good indeed. The mortal armsman hired performed better than I expected."

  "Very well." Aurila gestured and a chair appeared near Albertus's leg. "Sit and tell me." Aurelia said.

  Although he was flattered by being offered a chair, Albertus was disappointed when Aurilia turned her back on him and returned her attention to her mirror. He was annoyed that she would not look at him and he could not see her expressions. Usually he was terrified and had all he could do to hide his fear and all he saw on her beautiful face were scowls and scorn. Now when he could expect praise and pleasure, she looked only in the mirror.

  In that Albertus had misjudged Aurilia. Her mirror showed not her face but his. When he was reporting failure or disappointment, she did not need to look for nuances in his expression. Today when he said he had good news and his carriage and movements also showed his confidence, she needed to catch any unguarded look of doubt or private satisfaction.

  "So?" Aurilia urged when Albertus did not speak at once.

  "You know, of course, about Ridley's sermon calling Lady Mary a bastard and you know that I learned by listening to those who attended on King Edward's deathbed that Northumberland intended to set Lady Jane Grey on the throne. I wished to warn Lady Mary, but there had been attempts on her life—I have no proof but I think by Northumberland's direction—and there was no way I or any messenger from me could have approached her."

  "It was a good thought, but unnecessary. Prince Vidal had a warning arranged from high in the Court."

  "I wish I had known," Albertus said mildly. "I was so alarmed by the plot that I felt it worth the risk to try to reach Mary, say I was a physician and I had come to tell her of her brother's death. I all but compromised myself by trying to get a horse and leave the palace as soon as Edward was dead."

  For all the mildness of the voice, Aurilia saw a flicker of expression, swiftly suppressed, shade Albertus's look of satisfaction. Clearly Albertus did not love Vidal. Aurilia's lips twitched toward a smile; that Albertus should hate Vidal was all to the good. If she wanted something Vidal did not approve, Albertus would not deny her.

  "As it was, however," Albertus continued, "the attempt was fortunate. While I was hiding myself in the stable, I heard Robert Dudley, who is Northumberland's fifth son, speaking to the head groom about the need for three hundred horses on the next day for a troop to ride north. I guessed that Dudley had been instructed by his father to take Lady Mary prisoner, so I returned to the outer chambers of the king's apartments and sent my little page, the boy who fetched medications for me, out with instructions for Francis Howard to gather up his men and ride to Hunsdon."

  Aurilia turned on the cushioned stool before her dressing table to frown at him. "This was the day the king died? I am not certain of mortal time, but surely that was many days ago in their terms."

  "Yes, my lady, but when the king died I had nothing to report to you, so I did not come. I know Prince Vidal bade me go with Howard but I was forbidden to leave the palace and I did not think it wise to hold back Howard and what protection he could give Lady Mary until I was free to go."

  "No. You are right about that. Sometimes Prince Vidal does not foresee all the conditions surrounding an order. Was your man successful in protecting Lady Mary? Surely he did not have as many men at his command as did Northumberland's son."

  "No, but he has more years and more brains than young Dudley. He set out a full half day earlier but he and his men did not ride into Hunsdon. He set the troop to rest and wait just outside the town and himself rode into the manor alone, claiming to be a messenger with an urgent letter for Lady Mary. What he would have done if she was still there, aside from warning her about Dudley and the three hundred men, I do not know, but she had left already. Those few left behind to care for the house made no trouble in telling him that Lady Mary had ridden south toward Greenwich, according to a summons from Northumberland, and intended to stop in Hoddesdon."

  "So they rode to Hoddesdon?" Aurilia frowned and turned back toward her mirror, her nails clicking impatiently on the table top. "Am I going to need to listen to every single hoofbeat along the road? What is this news of yours that is so good?"

  For one moment fury surged up in Albertus, but then he bowed his head, swallowing a laugh at himself. He had been relishing the notion of telling Aurilia of Howard's cleverness and the fact that Howard had responded so brilliantly and achieved far more than he himself had expected or, truly, intended. But there was no need for him to lose the credit of how Howard had tricked Dudley into camping before Hoddesdon and negotiating terms with Engelfield for Lady Mary's surrender while she made good her escape or how Howard had fooled Dudley into believing that many more men had come to support Mary in Kenninghall than actually had come.

  "No, of course not, my lady."

  "You still have not given me this good news."

  "The first part of the good news is that Lady Mary is safe in Framlingham castle and that a number of gentlemen—I know for certain of the earl of Bath, the earl of Sussex, Sir Thomas Wharton, Sir John Mordant and Sir Henry Bedingfield—are already with her, together with a host of common folk."

  Aurilia's eyes brightened with pleasure. "Are there enough men supporting her to have a battle against Northumberland's forces? That will provide a tasty supping for me and my lord."

  "About the battle, I do not know. Northumberland intends to try to take her prisoner or kill her, but the matter still could be settled without fighting. I heard that the people of Norwich were on their way to Mary and just before I left I learned there was a muster in Tothill fields in London, but the number who replied to the summons, despite a promise of ten pence a day payment, was disappointing."

  "No battle?" Aurilia sniffed and turned around again, showing her lower lip protruding in a dissatisfied pout.

  "I do not think so," Albertus replied, "but the second part of my good news likely means Mary will be queen. Is that not what you and Prince Vidal desire, my lady?"

  "Oh, yes," Aurilia replied with no enthusiasm, "but a battle with lots of killing and looting . . . So what is the second part of the good news?"

  "That the six ships of the navy Northumberland sent to prevent Lady Mary from fleeing the country to her uncle, the emperor, are now Lady Mary's. I was riding north to meet Howard as soon as I was allowed to leave Greenwich palace, and I fell in around Colchester with a Sir Harry Jerningham, who was riding south. He urged me to bring my services to Lady Mary and told m
e how the sailors mutinied against their captains unless the captains would turn the ships to Lady Mary's service."

  "Oh well." Aurila stood up. "I suppose you had better come with me to give this news to Vidal. But I am disappointed that this clever Howard of yours could not arrange a battle."

  Aurilia's dissatisfaction made Albertus uneasy, but Vidal received the information, which Aurilia transferred in a long, thoughtful look, with greater enthusiasm than Aurilia had.

  "Very good," he said to her, smiling. "The creature is more useful than I thought he would be."

  "His man should have arranged a battle," Aurilia complained, seating herself in the chair that had appeared near Vidal.

  "No, not unless he was certain he could win. Once Mary is on the throne, we will be well fed on misery." Vidal smiled at Aurilia again, thinking that her childish greed was a weakness he could use and forgetting that before his imprisonment he was as greedy and short sighted.