Johnny O'Brien - Day of Deliverance

As the second queen entered the Great Hall everyone turned towards her and bowed. She approached her strange twin and paused briefly. It was uncanny seeing the two women together.

“Lady Sarah, I thank you for your services today,” she offered her twin a hand, “your bravery will be rewarded.”

The real queen strode forward to inspect the figures of Whitsun and Gift in the middle of the hall. She gave one of them a contemptuous poke with her foot. Tony and Gordon stood nearby, their heads bowed. The hall fell quiet as the queen prepared to speak, her dark eyes glinting with fiery confidence — a confidence wrought from twenty-nine years of hard-earned power. She spoke clearly and defiantly.

“My friends. We have defeated a plot to murder your queen — the Queen of England. Let tyrants fear. I have always so behaved myself that under God I have placed my chiefest strength and safeguard in the loyal hearts and goodwill of my subjects; and I thank you for your help in crushing this foul plot. I know I have the body of a weak and feeble woman but I have the heart and stomach of a king, and of a king of England too, and think foul scorn that Parma or Spain or any prince of Europe, should dare to invade the borders of my realms…”

The speech continued in a similar vein for some minutes and when it ended there was a great roar of approval and, spontaneously, a chant of “God save the queen!” rang out. She stood, chin high, imperious and triumphant. It took several minutes for the adulation to die down. The queen turned to the dark-clothed man and said quietly, “Walsingham — I trust you will deal with matters now.” With that she marched from the hall, surrounded by an escort and followed by her twin — Lady Sarah.

Walsingham took charge. He pointed down at Christo. “The Spaniard — put him in chains. He will be tortured until we know the identities of all the other plotters.” He pointed at the bodies of Whitsun and Gift, addressing Tony and Gordon. “Make sure they are stripped and find any other evidence. I have a good mind to send their heads to the Spanish court. And, now, where are they?”

Walsingham looked around the hall. Angus had come down from his position in the minstrel’s gallery and was standing with Jack and the other members of the cast, who huddled together in one corner of the stage, agog at the events unfolding in front of them. Walsingham strode over to them. He was a commanding, sinister figure. Tony and Gordon followed close behind. Walsingham eyed the cast of the Henslowe Players and turned his attention to Angus and Jack at the front.

“And you claim that, apart from the Spaniard, Christo, the Henslowe Players had no knowledge of the plot?”

Tony looked at Jack. “Absolutely not. This is confirmed in Marlowe’s letter. By waiting and laying the trap here at Hampton Court we knew we would catch any other plotters red-handed.”

Walsingham nodded. “Your point is fair.” Then he turned angrily towards Angus. “But you… smuggling a weapon into the palace…”

Jack intervened before Angus could answer. “Sir, a theatrical prop — just like the swords.” As he spoke, Jack spotted a knowing smile of approval cross Tony’s lips.

“Indeed, sir,” Tony continued, “the fact that this young man saw the danger of Christo and acted to save the woman he thought to be the queen proves that he had no knowledge of the plot… or indeed the trap we had laid for the plotters.”

Walsingham stared at Jack and then back at Angus with beady, black eyes. Jack could almost hear the mind of the queen’s spymaster whirring away, carefully analysing their statement for flaws. But in Jack Christie, Sir Francis Walsingham had met a worthy match and at last, Walsingham gave a firm nod.

“Fine. Indeed, more than fine. You and your friends shall be rewarded.” His face relaxed — but there was still no hint of a smile. “After all, today is a day of triumph — a victory for England — and tomorrow we shall celebrate. The Henslowe Players shall be rewarded and I shall personally commission an extended run of The Spanish Tragedy .”

It took a while for the news to sink in, but then the Henslowe Players started to cheer and whoop in excitement and Trinculo needed no further encouragement to launch into a wincingly awful celebratory jig.

Satisfied, if somewhat perplexed by the reaction of the Henslowe Players, Walsingham moved off to deal with more pressing matters. Tony and Gordon sidled up to Jack and Angus.

“Well, gentlemen, it is good to finally meet you again…”

“Likewise — but I think you might have some explaining to do,” Jack replied.

“Of course. But first we need to deal with our next problem.”

“What’s that?” Jack asked.

But Tony did not have time to respond. The doors at the front of the hall flew open and a royal guard hurried over to Walsingham. He looked terrified.

“The queen! She has been taken! Lady Sarah too…”

Walsingham’s face creased up in confusion and shock. “What do you mean?”

The guard stammered, “A man… with pistols, he surprised us, killed the other escorts and took them…” he waved a hand around his head, “into the gardens.”

Walsingham unleashed a sort of primeval scream and then lashed out violently with the back of his hand, connecting with the face of the wretched guard. The blow was so ferocious that his nose exploded in a mess of blood.

“Idiots!” Walsingham started to bark orders. “Secure the gates, secure the water gallery, search the gardens and deer park…” He swivelled round to Tony and Gordon. “You — help them!”

Tony turned to Jack and Angus. “As I was about to say, we need to deal with our next problem…”

But Jack had already understood. “Pendelshape’s here too.”

Jack, Angus, Tony and Gordon raced down the steps into the gardens. It was getting dark — a crimson sun was setting in a clear winter sky above the oaks of the deer park. The place was crawling with guards — many held flaming torches above their heads.

They paused for breath at the bottom of the stairs, as Tony surveyed the great gardens.

“Pendelshape has managed to kidnap the queen and Lady Sarah?” Jack asked.

“It must be him… desperate to make sure the plot didn’t fail,” Tony replied.

“Why not just kill her immediately?” Angus said.

“He must have some other warped plan,” Gordon said. “And there’s something else.” He put his hand inside his jacket and took out his time phone. He snapped it open and the telltale yellow light blinked back at them. “We’re getting a time signal.”

“We’ve only got minutes to find him…” Tony looked out at the broad vista of the gardens and the deer park beyond and added in frustration, “He could have gone anywhere. Dammit! Where is he?”

Just as the words left Tony’s mouth an image popped into Jack’s head. It was something from the book that Miss Beattie had shown him. He couldn’t have looked at the page for more than five seconds as he leafed through it, but miraculously it now reappeared in his memory, perfectly formed.

“Maybe he’s hiding somewhere, preparing to time travel… where would be a good place to hide?” Gordon said.

Jack knew the answer. “On the outskirts of the palace there is a sort of forest — I’m sure of it.”

The others turned towards him. He repeated it. “I think they call it the wilderness — it’s a woodland with paths, hedges and thickets. I remember it from Miss Beattie’s book. It’s the perfect hiding place, and it’s just on the edge of the palace grounds. If we move quickly, we might catch them before they go too far.”

The light from the sky was fading fast as they sprinted away from the palace. Soon they were working their way along a narrow pathway to the threshold of the wilderness, the huge trees looming over them. The quicker members of the group, including Tony and Gordon, had raced ahead, leaving Jack and Angus slightly behind. As the two boys reached the edge of the forest, they couldn’t quite see which way the others had gone.