And Less Than Kind Read online

  He would not need to worry about money; he could trust Denno to provide for him. He could live in the house on Bucklersbury where the servants were Low Court Sidhe, who would speak Elven and bring him news. He could see Elizabeth . . . That thought cheered him enough that when Lord Ffrancon beckoned them along a corridor to a side door, Harry squared his shoulders and went in first.

  The room was (for a palace Underhill) small. The wall that faced the door from which he and his friends had entered seemed to be one large sheet of glass that displayed rolling hills with silver water in the distance. It was impossible, of course; that wall should have either faced the corridor or been part of an equivalent wall in another room. Harry hardly gave it a glance or a thought. The apartment he lived in in Llachar Lle had a wall like that.

  What Harry's eyes fixed on was the being who stood looking out of the window. Harry was a tall man, but considerably shorter than his Sidhe friends. This being—he was not really a man at all—stood head and shoulders above Elidir and Mechain. He turned slowly to face them.

  His hair was thick and black, combed back in smooth waves from a deep widow's peak. His eyes were black too, so vibrantly alive that to Harry they seemed to flicker with golden lights. The nose was fine, the lips perfect, the chin firm without being aggressive. Altogether the face was so beautiful, it was unreal.

  "So you have news, and since you request a private audience it must be bad news." A deep chuckle sounded. "I have never known a subject to want to give good news in private."

  "My lord." Harry took half a step forward and bowed. "Some of the news is good. Alhambra is free of evil."

  There was a moment of silence and then Oberon asked with some amusement, "Now how did you manage that?"

  He could have sent his Thought into their minds and known everything at once, but the Thought caused pain and sometimes even damaged the minds it touched too directly, especially those of fragile humans. Besides he found it interesting, and amusing, to ask and be answered.

  "That is the bad news." Harry sighed. "We have no idea. Can evil die?"

  "No," Oberon said. "It can be diminished and then bound, but it will always exist."

  "Yes, that is what we were trying to do, to diminish it. And one of the elder Sidhe who has long studied mortal Christianity was seeking a spell to bind the evil. Then we hoped to send it off into the Void."

  Oberon cocked his head. "As good a plan as any. Even evil would find escape from the Void difficult. From the fact that you are here, clearly your plan did not work. What happened?"

  "We were successful in diminishing the evil and confining it to one place in Alhambra, what had, we thought, been the place to which it was first drawn when the priests cursed the domain."

  "How?"

  "By attrition, my lord," the warrior Elidir said. "It created evil things and we killed them, draining its power."

  "I sealed the domain against the dark power of sorrow and pain," Mechain said, "and drew to it the strength that comes from light and laughter. In that way the evil was not fed."

  "That is powerful magic," Oberon said.

  "I was once a sorcerer of power," Mechain replied, lifting her chin and smiling.

  Oberon's curved brows rose. "And you are again, it seems."

  Mechain's smile grew broader. "By Harry's mischief. You do not know the half of the spells I have uncovered from eons past and learned to use again to protect him . . . and us."

  Oberon looked at Harry. "And your part?"

  "I helped Elidir kill the little evil creatures, and as we cleared parts of the palace Elidir and Mechain placed silver sigils and when they were away I put down iron. Little by little we wore the evil down."

  "And then?"

  "We went away for a time, leaving behind some simple constructs. They were corrupted when we returned and we destroyed them. The evil was weaker after that; it had used much of its power to alter the constructs. I think it intended us to use the constructs so that they would have a chance to harm us."

  "Likely enough. But you were not fooled?"

  "A friend, who is very sensitive, warned us and told us that it was in the altar and we surrounded that with silver and iron. We intended to return quickly to discover if it was still contained, but Sewel had not yet completed his spell and . . . and we were distracted by another problem. When we did come back . . . in mortal July, the new constructs we had left were untouched and our sensitive told us the evil was entirely gone."

  "Where?"

  Harry, Elidir, and Mechain all swallowed. "We don't know."

  "That was July. This is mortal December . . ." Oberon no longer sounded amused.

  "We have been seeking it, my lord," Harry said. "We have been seeking news of what it can breed, what it can do. Of course, we cannot seek in the Dark Court's domains, but there is nothing unusual, not in any Unformed land we have visited and not even in such places as Wormgay Hold and Fur Hold."

  There was a long silence into which Oberon loosed a heavy sigh; however, the amusement was back in his eyes.

  After another moment, he shook his head. "Mortals," he said.

  Chapter 18

  In Caer Mordwyn Prince Vidal seethed. The journey so swiftly undertaken by Elizabeth had caught him entirely by surprise. He had no opportunity to send Francis Howard and his men to attack the party. Renard had not warned him that Elizabeth might be allowed to leave the Court. The last time he had spoken to the Imperial ambassador, Renard had been certain that Mary was convinced Elizabeth must remain at court where she could be watched.

  It was awkward working with a mortal who could not be brain burned, who must believe that he was obeying his Imperial master when that Imperial master wanted the opposite of what Vidal wanted. Unfortunately Emperor Charles did not want Elizabeth dead—and Vidal had no way to reach Charles to change his mind. The Dark Court in Spain and the Low Countries was very weak. They would give him no help and absolutely refused to chance any confrontation with the Bright Court of Melusine.

  There was enough misery generated by Charles's and his son Philip's attempts to wipe out Protestantism in the Low Countries to keep the Dark Court well fed. They would brook no interference with Charles. He was growing old. They wanted no pressures on him that could damage him in any way. So Vidal had no way to reassure Renard that arranging Elizabeth's death would please his master. He was forced to use compulsions that were in a separate place in Renard's mind.

  Vidal arranged that Renard find a suitable man among the embassy staff and order him to kill Elizabeth. Renard had enough free will in that "hole" in his mind to make promises to his agent to see that he had a suitable weapon and suitable clothing. When the first attempt failed, the "hole" called Renard to Otstargi, who was waiting for news. Otstargi gave other instructions and a vial of clear liquid to be added to a glass of wine for the agent. When the second attempt on Elizabeth failed, the "hole" closed. Renard had no knowledge, no memory, of ever having thought of doing Lady Elizabeth any physical harm.

  Now Elizabeth had escaped the Court with all the public appearances that made her vulnerable. She would be totally inaccessible to anyone except her trusted servants. A mortal messenger would not be allowed into her presence at all or so surrounded by her people that he could not touch her. A Dark Sidhe could possibly throw a knife accurately enough to reach her at such a distance, but no Dark Sidhe would endanger himself so much for Vidal, and besides that accursed Elizabeth would see through any disguise and expose the attacker.

  Vidal shuddered. If the Dark Sidhe were recognized for what he was, Oberon would hear of it. There had been a Thought raking Underhill too recently. Something had disturbed Oberon and sent his Thought seeking. Not that Vidal was willing to touch that Thought to find an answer to the question of what it was seeking, but just in case . . . perhaps he would abandon attempts to rid the world of Elizabeth by mortal means.

  Would that mean she would escape him? Vidal's hands, which had been lying peacefully on the arms of the cushioned ch
air even while unpleasant thoughts racked him, curled. His sharp, diamond-hard nails scraped along the polished Sidhe bones that made up the chair arms. With a faint screech one of the bones cracked and then shattered. Vidal was staring down at the fragments in his lap and on the floor when the door of the private parlor opened and Aurilia came in.

  "I felt your unease, my lord," she said, "and your thought that Elizabeth is loose. Is that so much worse for us?"

  Shocked at the loss of control that allowed his thoughts to be read, for once Vidal did not stop to consider the advantages and disadvantages of actually speaking the truth to Aurilia. "It is much worse," he said. "You remember how it was at Hatfield. She sees no one except the faithful. And she herself can see through any disguise so I cannot send one of our own enchanted into a form of her own familiar. I do not know how I can reach her as long as she is not forced into formal appearances."

  Aurilia said nothing for a moment, only coming forward and seating herself in the chair, this one of scented precious woods not bones, beside his. Then, her voice uncertain she said, "There is a Thought roaming all through Underhill." Aurilia shivered. "It touched me." Her voice shook. "I had to drink Albertus's potion to calm myself. It is horrible to be touched by Oberon's Thought."

  Vidal did not turn his head to look at her, but he nodded. The Thought had not touched him; he had learned from the mist's bindings to withdraw deep inside himself.

  "I am aware."

  "Was he seeking us?" Aurilia bit her lip and then said in a rush, "If Titania is prodding him about protecting Elizabeth, perhaps you should give over trying to be rid of her, my lord. Mary already hates her. We have never touched Mary. We should leave Elizabeth's fate in Mary's hands without trying to help."

  "That is a wise thought, Aurilia." Vidal did not smile, but he was pleased at having maneuvered Aurilia into stating aloud and approving what he had been thinking. Then he added, "Rhoslyn is there, but she has never advocated physical harm to Elizabeth; she has only protected Mary. Oberon would not object to that."

  Aurilia was silent for another moment, then said thoughtfully "I have noticed that power is again flowing into Caer Mordwyn. It seems that many are less and less happy with Mary's reign. Perhaps we should work in the other direction. Instead of removing Elizabeth, we should make sure she never comes to the throne by giving Mary a living heir."

  Vidal turned not only his head but his body in Aurilia's direction. "That is another wise thought," he said, nodding. "I know through Renard that the queen is negotiating for a marriage to the son of Renard's master."

  "So? That makes everything easier, although Mary is not young and may not conceive easily."

  Now Vidal smiled. "We can help with that, I think. I must consult our sorcerers but it might be possible to arrange that one of the Dark Sidhe be disguised as her husband—as soon as we get a look at him—and get her with child."

  "Sidhe cannot breed with mortal . . . not without spells that even make me think twice," Aurilia said, frowning.

  Vidal laughed. "It need not be Sidhe substance that is placed within Mary."

  Aurilia nodded at that but then her frown reappeared. "No suspicion must be aroused about the conception." Her brow cleared and she nodded again. "I think I will send Albertus back to the mortal world. Can you not arrange through Renard that he be taken on as one of the physicians who attends the queen?"

  "Why not?" Vidal said slowly, brows lifted. "Indeed, why not? Many of the physicians at Court already know him because of his attendance on the dead king. And I doubt he made them dislike him. I must ask him about that. Yes, send an imp for him, Aurilia. You have had a very clever idea, but I want to be sure he understands his purpose."

  Aurilia did not look happy. "I think Albertus would be useful to us as one of the queen's physicians, but only if his mind is his own. He is very clever, Vidal. Give him a purpose and let him know he will be rewarded and he can accomplish much. Remember it is likely he kept the little king alive for an extra week or two. But if you damage his mind he will fail."

  "Oh very well, very well. I will not touch your pet's mind. Send an imp for him. No, don't bother. Let us together bring him from his laboratory. It will impress him with our power, remind him that we can seize him wherever he is and bring him to us. And it will not disturb the functioning of his—" Vidal sneered "—precious mind."

  Aurilia was annoyed at Vidal's attitude. She felt he was backsliding. For a long time after he escaped the mist, he had been less self-important, more awake to the uses he could make of others. She hoped she would not need to circle around him to accomplish anything as she had in the past. However, actually it would do no harm at all to throw a fright into Albertus, so she merely imaged Albertus's laboratory for Vidal and let him snatch the physician from that chamber to this private parlor.

  The sudden translocation seemed to have accomplished its purpose more thoroughly than Aurilia had expected. Albertus gave Vidal one wide-eyed glance and sank to the floor, head bent, hands folded prayerfully.

  "What is your will, my lord, my lady?"

  "My will is that you obey Prince Vidal," Aurilia said.

  That would flatter Vidal and accomplish what was, after all her own purpose. It was her idea to produce an heir out of Mary. The woman was not young and had always been sickly. With any luck she would die while her child was an infant. That would mean a regency, which would make everyone unhappy and very likely cause Elizabeth and her partisans to rebel, which would mean civil war. Aurilia ran her tongue gently over her lower lip in anticipation of the rich harvest of pain and misery to be garnered. She paid no more attention to Albertus.

  Vidal was flattered by Aurilia's all encompassing order to Albertus and satisfied, too, with the obvious terror the kneeling man felt. Clearly it would not be necessary to place any compulsion in Albertus's mind. He would obey implicitly out of fear.

  "I have information that Mary's government is negotiating with the emperor Charles to marry Mary to his son, Philip. It would be best for the Dark Court if Mary had an heir. You are to go back to the mortal world where I will arrange to have you appointed as one of the queen's physicians. You will do everything in your power to keep Mary in good health until she is married. One way or another I will see that she conceives. Then you will make sure she bears a healthy babe."

  Albertus could hardly believe his ears. When he had been snatched out of the laboratory and deposited before Aurilia and Vidal, he had been certain his rebellious intention of somehow foiling Vidal's plans to destroy Elizabeth had been detected. He had expected a punishment so terrible that he could not even imagine it. Instead, he was being given orders that would gain him praise and status in the mortal world as well as satisfying his masters Underhill.

  Slowly his shaking stilled and he fixed his full attention on Vidal's words. He would think of Mary, of keeping Mary healthy, of increasing her fertility. If either Vidal or Aurilia looked into his mind, he would be thinking of potions to improve her health.

  "I will do my very best, my lord," Albertus said, still kneeling. "I beg you to consider that I could only extend the little king's life for a week or two. Mary, of course, is only frail, not dying. I may be more successful with her, but she has long-trusted physicians. I may not be able to treat her or influence her."

  "I will arrange that," Vidal said. "You will be welcome to Mary and trusted by her. You need only take care not to make the other physicians jealous."

  "That I can do, my lord. Will I go as myself, as I did when I served the late king?"

  Vidal reached out and lightly stroked Aurilia's arm. When she turned to him he passed Albertus's question to her. She looked at her servant and touched the very surface of his mind lightly. He was excited, thinking already of what herbs would best soothe and strengthen the queen. He was looking forward to being a Court physician again. He had enjoyed working for the late king, regretted he could not keep him alive longer, and knew just how to ingratiate himself with the other physicians. Auril
ia smiled.

  "Yes, let us send him as himself. The queen's physicians know of him but have no reason to be envious. Renard's recommendation will perhaps wake some animosity, but that cannot be helped, and allowing him to keep the same character will prevent any accidents that might be caused by his confusing his identities."

  "Do you need anything from your laboratory here to take with you?" Vidal asked.

  "No, lord. I dare not take anything from here. If you furnish gold, I can buy what I need in the mortal world."

  "There will be gold in your chamber in Otstargi's house."

  Ashridge was much closer to London than Hatfield, so even with necessary stops to rest the horses, they arrived well before sunset. A courier sent ahead as soon as Elizabeth had received Mary's congé had warned the servants who had remained to care for the house. Fires were lit, beds were made, dust sheets were removed from any furniture left when the house had last been occupied. A mad rush ensued to ready a meal for those arriving.