Mark Chadbourn - The Silver Skull

"And then the voice proceeded to tell Mary about the plot to steal the Silver Skull from the Tower, and the time and the date."

"And Bulle passed this information on to you, for you to find some way to gain financial advantage from a blow against England itself," Will said sharply. "You did not pass this on to the authorities. You sought only your own personal gain. That is treason in and of itself." He nodded to Kemp to tighten the winch another notch.

Pickering's shrieks ended in a series of juddering sobs. "I did not seek to harm my country or my queen!" he wailed. "I simply saw an opportunity."

"As all men of business do," Will said sardonically.

"I planned to return the Skull to the authorities-"

"Once you had played England and Spain off against each other, and grown fat on the proceeds. What else did Bulle tell you?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing that you remember?"

"No."

Will gave the nod to Kemp, who tightened the rack another notch. Briefly, Pickering blacked out from the pain, and when he finally came round, Will said, "Jog your memory, while your limbs are still attached."

Babbling incoherently, Pickering eventually attempted to run through everything his cousin had told him, one drunken night in the Bear in Alsatia. It was only after two more turns of the winch that he recalled something new.

"The voice said ... they still search ... beneath the palace," he gasped.

"For what?"

"I do not remember! I ... I ..." Kemp moved a hand onto the winch. "A shield! Yes, my cousin said a shield!"

"A shield," Walsingham repeated.

"Thank you for your time," Will said to Pickering. "You have been most helpful. Now, I believe Master Kemp has some further questions for you on other matters."

From a brown leather bag, Kemp removed a sheaf of documents an inch thick. Pickering began to sob gently.

As Will and Walsingham made their way back to the light, Walsingham mused, "The Shield. The third and final item required for the Silver Skull's operation. It lies-or lay-beneath the Palace of Holyroodhouse. The Enemy searched at the time of Mary's execution, but do they now have the object they sought?"

"If the Enemy had the Shield, the Hunter would have used it in Alsatia," Will replied. "As it was, the Skull's power was only released briefly, the display stopped before it could do harm to all present. It was a warning to us ... mockery, perhaps ... nothing more."

"My agents in Hertfordshire reported a black carriage moving north at great speed, all curtains drawn. It did not stop at the usual places," Walsingham said.

"Then I will be away to Edinburgh within the hour," Will announced. "There may still be hope if we act swiftly."

"Godspeed," Walsingham said. "But remember, Scotland and England may now have a steady relationship, but Dee's defences do not extend beyond the border. The Enemy has always thrived on the lonely moors and misty mountains of that northern land, aye, and in their cities too. One reason why King James is so keen to bring England into an even closer embrace. It is said he rankles nightly to his advisors about yawning churchyards, straw dolls in babies' cribs, and the threat that waits for him and all Scotsmen under the Hill of Yews. You must watch your back at all times."

"Nathaniel will do that for me. Our spies in Edinburgh are to be trusted?"

"As much as any. I will alert them to your arrival."

"No," Will said. "Let my arrival be a surprise. I will contact them when I reach the north."

In the carriage on the journey back to the Palace of Whitehall, Will ordered Nathaniel to pack his bags to accompany him on the journey to Edinburgh.

"Scotland." Nathaniel sighed. "I hear it is a place of hard, grey skies and a constant drizzle that dampens the spirit as much as the clothes."

"But you'll have the joy of my company, and such learned and witty discourse that many would pay for such a privilege." Will watched the faces pass the window, afraid that with every one he would see some sign of disease starting to flower.

"My heart sings already," Nathaniel replied.

In the courtyard next to the Black Gallery, the carriage pulled into a stream of activity, with several servants accompanying the court physician and bystanders whispering in doorways. Almost as ashen as Launceston's natural complexion, Mayhew dashed from the Black Gallery and tore open the carriage door.

"What is wrong?" Will enquired. "The queen-?"

Mayhew shook his head. "The boy."

He led Will at speed from the Black Gallery through the Tryst Rooms and into a loft where pigeons cooed. The physician was just leaving as they arrived, shaking his head as they passed.

Miller hung by the neck from one of the rafters.

Sickened, Will could not speak for a moment as he tried to comprehend the torments the youth must have suffered after his encounter with the Hunter. He cursed himself for not doing more to ease Miller's pain, and for failing to protect one in his charge.

"Cut him down," Will ordered.

"I searched for him as you said," Mayhew stuttered, "and could not find him anywhere until one of the servant girls came here for a tryst with her love and-"

"Cut him down!"

Mayhew hastily complied. Once the youth was laid on the dusty boards, Will collected him in his arms and carried him down to the Tryst Rooms. Although he had only known Miller for a matter of hours, he felt the death more personally than any he had experienced in recent months.

"We failed him," he said to Mayhew as he laid the body on a table.

"We did what we could," Mayhew replied. "The knowledge of the Enemy affects all of us in different ways. We cannot predict the outcome. We can only hope."

"We did not do all we could have," Will stated. "He was thrust into this battle too soon, without proper precautions."

"Desperate times-"

"Quiet!" Will snapped. "Many people killed this youth and they will all have to carry it on their conscience-our side, who engaged him in activities beyond him, those who stole the Silver Skull and ensured he would be forced into battle too soon, but most of all the Enemy ... the Hunter." Will recalled the Hunter whispering in Miller's ear, the grinding expression of confusion, then the horror that bloomed in his face at whatever had been said. "He was murdered at that moment, though it took some time to take effect. But know this: there is a price to be paid here, and I will ensure it is extracted from that Hunter the next time we meet. So do I vow!"

Will studied Miller's face, which even in death contained the innocence that he had carried like a torch. He tried to recall the last time he had felt that warm innocence himself, but it had long since been driven out of him.

"Fetch me parchment and a quill," he said desolately. "I shall write to his father myself."

CHAPTER 19

an this thing not go any faster?" Will bellowed over the thunder of the carriage wheels on the rutted lane winding through the nightdark Scottish lowlands. Hanging out of the window, he clutched the rail on top of the carriage to stop himself being thrown clear.

"Not unless you want to risk pitching down the bank into the valley," the driver yelled back. Even so, he cracked his whip and the horses increased their pace, but the carriage immediately slewed onto one wheel, skidding sideways across the mud before crashing back with an impact that threatened to shatter the axle.

The road had been treacherous ever since they had left England behind, winding around the side of great hills still touched by snow on the top, or ploughing across valley bottoms beside sucking bogs. Horses would have been quicker, but the carriage allowed them to sleep while travelling, and to remain out of sight of prying eyes.