Sharon Penman: The Queen Man

He sounded so bewildered that she almost smiled. "Yes, I heard you, Justin. You said that Claudine is John's spy."

His breath quickened. "You already knew!"

She nodded. "Actually, I've known for some time."

Justin was dumbfounded. "But… but why?"

"Why did I not expose her double-dealing? Surely you've heard of the adage, 'Better the Devil you know than the one you do not.' Well, that holds even truer for spies. Besides, Claudine's spying was never more than an irritation, for she is not ruthless enough to be truly good at it. And as long as John thinks I trust her, he will not look elsewhere."

Justin decided that he needed a drink, after all. "You seem to accept betrayal so calmly, madame. Why are you not outraged?"

"Outrage is an indulgence of youth. It is not a vice of age… or queens."

Before Justin realized it, he had drained his cup. "You know her better than I, madame. Why would she do it?"

Eleanor shrugged. "There are any number of reasons why people are tempted to dance with the Devil. Some do it for money. Some are coerced, some seduced. My son can be very persuasive. But if I had to guess, I'd say Claudine was lured in by the adventure of it."

"The adventure of it?" Justin echoed, so bitterly that the words, innocuous in themselves, took on the sting of savage profanity.

"Yes, adventure," Eleanor insisted, "for that is how she'd see it. I am sure she has convinced herself that no great harm comes from her disclosures. She gives John what he wants, gets what she wants, and no one is truly hurt. It is a game to Claudine, only a game."

Justin shook his head slowly, a gesture as revealing to Eleanor as any outburst could have been. She watched as he returned to the table, poured them more wine. Accepting another cup, she said, "For what it is worth, lad, Claudine seemed to fancy you from the first. I doubt that she would have bedded a man she did not find desirable. She considers herself a spy, not a whore."

To Justin, that was meagre consolation, and he drank again, so quickly that she was moved to caution him to go slower. "I have no intention of getting drunk," he said tautly. "I've already gone down that road." Hearing his own words, he realized that the wine was loosening his tongue more than it ought, and he put the cup aside. "Did you know, madame, that I'd found out about Claudine?"

"Yes, I knew."

"Then why would you want to take me into your service?"

"I felt reasonably confident that you would come to me with the truth. I suppose I was curious to see how long it would take," she said, with a slight smile.

"You were testing me?"

"What do you think?"

"The truth?" he said, with a shaken laugh. "That I'm in over my head!"

She smiled at him over her wine cup. "I think you've been treading water quite well. No… you're a better swimmer than you realize, Justin. You proved that by the shipwreck story you concocted to tempt Claudine."

He stared at her. "How could you know about that? It is not as if Claudine would tell you!"

"No… but Durand did."

For Justin, this was one shock too many. "I do not understand," he said, in what was the greatest understatement of his life. "Why would Durand tell you? He is John's tame wolf!"

"No," she said, with the faintest glimmer of grim amusement, "he is my tame wolf."

"Are you saying that Durand has not been spying for John?"

"No… he has been spying for John for months. But what John does not realize is that Durand tells him only what I want him to know."

Justin was still trying to come to terms with this new reality. "But Claudine knew about Gilbert the Fleming. How could John have learned about him if not from Durand?"

"Yes, that came from Durand," she confirmed. "What use would he be to John if he did not deliver valuable information? He gives up just enough to keep John coming back for more."

"So… when Durand confronted me in the great hall, that was all an act?"

"No, not entirely. Oh, he was doing what you expected. You'd have been surprised, even suspicious, if he had not blamed you for his supposed fall from grace. But his dislike of you is quite real. He was very vexed at being caught out in Winchester. He rarely makes mistakes like that and does not take failure well. It is obvious that you return his hostility in full measure, and that is one reason why I am telling you this. You are likely to be working with Durand in the future, and I'd not want your suspicions of him to blind you to other dangers."

Justin was regarding Eleanor with awe. If family could indeed be equated with that "castle on a hill" he'd once envisioned, hers was a magnificent structure, luxurious and majestic, but with blood splattered on the walls within. While he marveled that she could face a son's treachery without flinching, he sensed, too, that the queen's needs would always prevail over the mother's. He was not sure if he'd have chosen to be part of her world — so sun blinding and dazzling and dangerous — but he could not imagine walking away. For better or worse, it was too late.

Thinking that Durand must like to ride his stallion along the edge of cliffs and sleep in burning buildings, he said, "I am still puzzled, though, about Durand's role in this… you called it a 'Devil's dance,' I believe. Since Durand was not truly John's man, why bother following me all the way to Winchester, not once but twice? Why not simply tell John that he had done so and save himself a lot of needless time in the saddle? Instead, he even went so far as to interrogate Luke de Marston — "

The answer came to him then, in a burst of clarity that took his breath away. "My God… he was not in Winchester at John's behest, was he? You sent him after me!"

"I was wondering," she said, "when you'd realize that."

Justin had so many questions that he settled for one, a simple "Why?"

"You alone had seen the killers. That made you the logical choice. But you were still a stranger to me — and if you'll forgive me for saying so — very young. I wanted to make sure that I'd not be throwing a lamb into the lion's den. So I thought it best that you had Durand there to keep an eye on you, at least until you'd demonstrated that you were quite capable of looking after yourself."

"And until you could be sure that I'd not make a botch of it," Justin suggested and Eleanor laughed.

"Yes, that, too. With so much at stake, I needed to know that I could rely upon you. Fortunately, my instincts were right. But then I've always had good judgment where men are concerned."

Her lips curved and she added wryly, "Except for husbands, of course!"

Drifting clouds hid the moon and when Justin led Copper from the stables out into the Tower bailey, it was like plunging into a black, silent sea. Swinging up into the saddle, he was almost at the Land Gate when several horsemen rode in. Raising his lantern as they passed by, Justin was jolted to come face to face with Durand de Curzon.

Durand was astride a big-boned black stallion, an ill-tempered beast to judge by the flattened ears and white-rimmed eyes. Spurring the horse forward, he swerved into Justin's path. Justin hastily reined in. Fortunately, his chestnut was of an equable temperament and not easily spooked. He did not doubt that Durand's action had been deliberate, a warning to stay out of his way. The queen's tame wolf was going to make a provoking ally, if not a downright dangerous one.

Justin exhaled a deep breath, wondering what he'd gotten himself into, for in that moment, the future seemed as dark and murky as this moonless spring night. But he glanced up then, saw the lights still burning brightly in the queen's windows, like a shining beacon midst the blackness of the bailey.

"Come on, Copper," he said. "The Devil with Durand and John, too." Leaving the Tower behind, he rode for Gracechurch Street, for home. And each time he looked back, he could still see the glow from Queen Eleanor's chambers, high above the sleeping city.