Mark Chadbourn - The Silver Skull

On his knees, head bowed in prayer, Philip did not deign to acknowledge them. Will could see he was preparing to meet his God, and ready to be a martyr to his religion.

"The king," Carpenter said incredulously.

Launceston caught Will's arm and whispered, "It is one thing to beard the Spanish on their home ground, but quite another to threaten the life of a monarch. You are an ordinary man. To challenge a king in such a manner goes against the established order. You could bring all of Europe down on England's heads. The queen will not take this lightly."

"If I had another path I would take it." Will strode over to Philip and said, "You must come with us."

Philip did not look up from his devotions. Will nodded to Carpenter and Mayhew, and after a moment's hesitation, they took Philip's arms and helped him to his feet.

"You are our passage out of here," Will said. "You have my word you will not be harmed."

Philip was unmoved. "England will burn for this."

"Where is that witch who has your ear?" Will hastily searched the quarters, but there was no sign of Malantha, and it was clear Philip would never betray her.

Containing his desire for revenge, Will led the way out of the king's quarters, through the basilica, and into the courtyard. They were brought up sharp by fifty or more of the king's men racing to defend Philip's residence. Coming to an abrupt halt, the blood drained from their faces when they saw the king in the hands of their enemies.

Drawing his knife, Will pressed it to Philip's throat. "Safe passage," he called, "or the king's death will be on your conscience."

Swords drawn towards the massed ranks of hateful eyes, Launceston, Carpenter, and Mayhew huddled in a tight knot around Will and Philip. Will could feel the tremors running through Mayhew and hoped they weren't visible.

With a snarl, one of the soldiers raised his pike, but the captain quickly thrust an arm across his chest.

"Safe passage and he will not be harmed," Will stressed.

Slowly, the ranks parted and Will and the others moved steadily through, eyes flashing all around for any hint of an attack. But Will knew they could not risk the king's death; grave repercussions would surely follow if any harm came to the monarch. Would he go that far? he wondered.

The soldiers closed around them, until they were an island in a sea of steel armour, threatened from every side by pikes and swords. Step by step they advanced, Will's knife never leaving Philip's throat, the entire courtyard enveloped in an anxious silence. The tension demanded release, but that would only result in slaughter.

Hold steady, Will thought. He cast an eye towards Mayhew, the most likely to crack and bring everything falling down, and then to Launceston, who still had the gleam of his death-hunger in his eyes.

As they came to the portico leading out of the courtyard, Will ordered Carpenter to collect several pikes. When he had them, they moved through the first set of doors, which Launceston slammed shut. An eruption of anger blasted from the other side as the soldiers threw themselves against the doors as one, but Carpenter had already rammed one of the pikes through the iron ring-handles; the doors bowed, but the pike held-not for long, Will knew.

With the clamour ringing at their backs, they now raced through the palace, hauling Philip along with them, and using the remaining pikes to block door after door. Will hoped it would give them enough time.

Emerging into the warm night, they saw a carriage waiting in the courtyard before the palace. The gates were already open. Beside it stood Don Alanzo and Grace. Cautiously holding the Silver Skull, opened on a hinge that was invisible when it was worn, the Don moved to fix it on Grace's head.

His gently persuasive voice floated through the still air: "Place this 'pon your head. You must do what I say. And we will release you from it when your task is complete." Yet Will could see the Don was reticent about what he had been guided to do.

"Grace, do not heed him!" Will called.

Whirling, Don Alanzo dropped the Skull as he went for his sword. Grace cried out and made to run to Will until the Don held her back with one arm.

"In case your eyes have failed you, we have your king here," Will said.

"And that will be added to the list of crimes for which you will pay," Don Alanzo replied. With a flourish, he brought his sword tip to Grace's breast. "Let us see where your loyalties truly lie." Don Alanzo scooped the Skull back up with his free hand and placed one foot on the step of the carriage.

Blood throbbed in Will's temples. He could feel the eyes of Launceston, Carpenter, and Mayhew upon him; and from somewhere unseen, too, he could feel the terrible regard of Malantha.

"Well?" Don Alanzo mocked. "Release the king or the girl dies."

"Give me the Skull or the king dies," Will responded.

"Then let us see whose life you consider more valuable." Don Alanzo pressed the sword tip against Grace.

"Kill the king," Will ordered. He couldn't bear to examine the devastation that flared in Grace's face.

Don Alanzo laughed, but the humour drained rapidly when he saw Will was not bluffing. Hesitantly, Carpenter drew his knife, and when Will gave the nod, moved in for the kill.

Eyes fixed on lion Alanzo as he estimated if he could save Grace before the killing blow, Will heard frantic activity at his back.

Carpenter's knife clattered across the flags. An instant later Carpenter was on his knees, his lips and nose bloody. Half turning, Will saw Philip flee across the courtyard to the palace. He was about to give chase when he was struck so heavily across the temple, it drove him to his knees, dazed.

Muffled voices rumbled through the dull haze in his head, and when he shook off the stupor, he saw Mayhew running to join lion Alanzo with Launceston in pursuit.

Mayhew, the traitor.

His head spinning, Will scrambled to his feet, just in time to see lion Alanzo thrust a screaming Grace into the carriage and bound in after her, with the Silver Skull safe under his arm.

Mayhew cried out, but the carriage began to move away. At the last, he flung himself onto the step, clutching the open window for dear life, and planted one boot into Launceston's chest to send him sprawling.

The carriage built up speed and rattled out of the gates and away across the dark Spanish countryside.

CHAPTER 43

cave me alone!" Mayhew shook his fist at Grace in a rage. Her tearstained face was filled only with contempt for him.

As the carriage raced away from the palace, lion Alanzo leapt forwards and drove Mayhew back into his seat, eyes blazing. "You do not speak to her like that!" he snarled. "You have no right to speak to anyone ... traitor."

Mayhew felt like his heart would burst. The strain of keeping his traitorous nature undercover for so long had led him to the brink of selfdestruction, but now a corrosive guilt had been added to the potent mix. He held his head in his hands and tried not to think about what he had sacrificed-his life in England, his countrymen, his queen, and his country itself-and he wondered how he would ever live with himself.

"But ... I helped you," Mayhew said. Even he could hear the pathetic note in his voice. Why was the Spaniard treating him so badly? He had brought victory to Spain.

Don Alanzo studied him intently for several long moments, and Mayhew couldn't meet the intensity of his gaze. Then he said: "You are not a Spanish spy or I would know."