Witchrise (17 page)

To my surprise, I found Richard was right. I was burning hot. There was a fine sheen of sweat on my forehead and neck, as though I had been sitting too close to a fire, and my cheeks were glowing. Yet one glance told me the fire in Elizabeth’s chamber had long since gone out.

The tallow candle had also burned low in my absence, the chamber quiet and gloomy. I looked at it assessingly. Had I truly been ‘gone’ nearly an hour? My head was spinning, my heart thudding, and I felt sick. So this was what happened to the body after journeying too far in the mind.

Elizabeth was impatient to hear my news. ‘Did you manage to see Robert? To speak with him, perhaps?’

‘I did not speak with Master Dudley,’ I muttered, and saw her face fall. ‘But I saw him, yes. And I also saw . . .’ I hesitated, glancing up at Richard. It felt strange to be here at Hatfield again, when seconds ago I had been standing in an unknown house many miles away. ‘Your master, John Dee. He says thank you for the letter, by the way.’

‘Does he now?’ he said drily.

I almost smiled, but my head was hurting too much. ‘He was dining with Bishop Bonner tonight. The other guests were Master Robert Dudley and his wife.’

Richard’s eyes widened, but he said nothing.

‘With his wife? And Bishop Bonner, you say?’ The princess crouched beside me in a rustle of heavy skirts, her face intent. ‘Are you sure it was he?’

‘Yes, the bishop was their host. It was a very fine house. Like a palace. I saw John Dee, Master and Mistress Dudley, and Bonner himself at the dinner table. They were discussing the Queen’s health.’

She drew a sharp breath. ‘So my sister is unwell.’

‘Not any more, Dee said. She was sick, but has recovered. Then they talked of . . . of Master Cranmer’s burning.’ I glanced at Richard. My throat was parched. ‘Is there any wine? My mouth is like dust.’

‘Yes, poor Thomas Cranmer.’ The princess crossed herself, her voice cracking with pain. ‘I knew him all my life; he was a great churchman. Such a terrible death, burning. But my sister hated him, of course, so his arrest became inevitable once she took the throne.’ She saw my puzzled expression. ‘Thomas Cranmer was one of those who negotiated my father’s divorce from her mother.’

Behind her, Richard was pouring me a cup of wine. I remembered the servant pouring wine for the bishop’s guests. My teeming brain seemed to jerk, and for an instant it felt as though I were back in that other space, watching them. Then I looked at the cup in my hand and could not recall how it got there.

Richard, kneeling beside me, frowned. ‘Meg, your eyes went all blurred again. Are you still here with us?’

I nodded, though the world was tilting slightly. I had lost time for a moment there. Gone somewhere else in my mind and not been able to control it.

‘
Invictus
,’ I muttered, remembering Master Dee’s warning.

‘Pardon?’

It can be dangerous.

I shook my head, struggling to put my thoughts together. What had I been saying?

‘Master Dudley did speak of you, my lady,’ I said huskily, and the princess sat down to listen, her face eager.

Briefly I covered what the two men had discussed once Bishop Bonner had left the room. Then I attempted to describe, carefully prompted by Elizabeth, Robert Dudley’s clothes, how he had been wearing his hair, his voice, what he said, his expression at every point in the conversation, and in particular his questions about the princess.

Finally I outlined Robert’s sudden argument with his wife. ‘She seemed very angry, as though she already knew about your . . . your friendship with her husband.’

‘But he denied it?’

‘I do not know. They spoke too quietly.’

She nodded, looking pained, then abruptly hid her face in her hands. ‘Oh, this business is so awful. Master Dudley is a married man! I love him with all my heart, God knows that I do. But it is a most unnatural love, an impossible love, and I wish that I could rid myself of it.’

I knew only too well how she felt.

Elizabeth looked at me through the cage of her fingers, her eyes red-rimmed. ‘Oh, leave me. Go, both of you. It’s late and I need to be alone.’

As we left, Elizabeth was picking up the miniature portrait from the floor where I had left it, her face pale and determined. I wondered if she would burn it, and the letter too, ridding herself of all possessions which reminded her of Robert Dudley.

But of course she would not.

In her position, would I burn a portrait of Alejandro just because he could never be mine?

Richard squeezed my arm when we reached the small chamber I shared with Alice, stopping me when I would have gone inside.

‘
Invictus
,’ he said, repeating the word I had muttered in the princess’s chamber. ‘What did you mean by that?’

‘John Dee said it. There was a picture of my mother’s ring on a spare parchment, and he had written
Invictus
beneath it. He also said “It can be dangerous”, but I heard no more.’ I felt my sore head gingerly; there was a lump developing under my hair. ‘It’s Latin, of course. You know the word?’

He nodded. ‘
Unconquered
.’

‘He said it to
me
, Richard. Master Dudley was not in the room at the time.’

Richard stared at me, incredulous. ‘Master Dee saw you, you mean? He knew you were there and spoke to you?’

‘It sounds mad, I know. But it’s true.’

‘Or perhaps that bump on the head has affected your brain.’

‘So little faith in my magick. When your master’s next letter arrives, you will owe me an apology.’ But I touched his cheek lightly. I did not want him to think me ungrateful for his help. ‘You are a good friend, Richard. Thank you for being there tonight. I needed you.’

His gaze became intense. ‘Any time, Meg. You only have to ask.’ He paused. ‘We will wait till tomorrow to set the new protective spells. You will need your wits about you for the work.’

I looked along the dark corridor to Alejandro’s room. The door was closed but I had the feeling he was still awake, listening to our whispered conversation.

‘We’ll talk more in the morning. Right now I seem to be growing an egg on the side of my head. Goodnight, Richard.’

The weather had changed, I realized, slipping quietly into the bedchamber I shared with Alice. It was a blustery night outside, the wind moaning around the house like a soul in torment. I kindled a candle, moving softly about the room.

Gazing out through the gap in the shutters, I reached behind to loosen the lacings of my bodice. The moon was high. Clouds scudded across its white face, some smudged a dirty black, almost menacing.

Unconquered
.

I frowned, the word worrying at me.

I slipped out of my bodice, then removed my foreskirt, hanging it carefully over the back of the chair. There might be another meaning to
Invictus
, of course. Perhaps Alejandro would know; his Latin was superb.

Still in my undershift, I knelt by my mother’s chest to put away the hazel wand, then felt for the ring in my pouch. That should go back into the chest too. I should not be carrying it about with me like this – it could too easily be lost . . . and Master Dee clearly thought it held some special significance.
Invictus
. For some reason I thought of my champion, Alejandro de Castillo, his sword drawn against the powers of evil.

Before I could pull the ring out, a rustle behind me brought me round sharply. Alice was sitting up in bed, staring at me.

‘Did I wake you?’ I whispered, smiling. ‘Forgive me, Alice. It’s been a long evening. I will only be a moment.’

My heart was thumping like a scared rabbit’s. God’s blood! I was so nervous these days, I was seeing attackers in every shadow. Wearily I dropped the ring back into my mother’s casket, closed the lid, then began to cast a slow protective circle about it. Tomorrow Richard and I would set a new circle around the house and grounds, and despite my misgivings I would still feel safer . . .

Suddenly I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder, and turned, staring into Alice’s white face.

‘You cannot hide from me,’ she told me coldly, her empty eyes boring into mine.

Only it was not Alice’s voice.

My body shook violently as I realized the trap I had walked into. I pushed the demon-creature away, stumbling backwards in my haste and knocking over the candle.

The flame guttered on the rushes and was extinguished. Now we were standing in the pitch-black together, listening to the moan of the wind, this nameless fiend and I.

In the silence, my breathing sounded loud and harsh to my ears. I clamped a hand over my mouth, struggling to breathe quietly, to listen for
her
breathing.

I thought of escape, perhaps shouting for Richard or Alejandro. But I dismissed the idea. Alejandro was already wounded, and I did not want anyone else to be hurt on my account. Besides, she might be standing between me and the door. And instinct told me not to let her touch me again.

My eyes adjusting to the dark, I caught a faint glimmer: Alice’s white nightgown moving as she turned her head, trying to locate me.

Now was my chance.

But even as I raised my hand to strike her down, I realized it could not be done. Not without hurting Alice. My friend was not my enemy. She was possessed. Just as Blanche had been in the old shepherd’s hut. And now I knew why. Because Richard had lowered the barrier of protective spells about this house, now it lay wide open to whatever evil spirit or fiend from Hell cared to enter it. And chief amongst my suspects must be Marcus Dent, a man who would stop at nothing to destroy me – before I could destroy him. Richard’s actions would have been as a gift to him. An invitation.

Abruptly I changed my mind. And the spell with it.

‘Banish!’ I shouted in Latin instead, clapping my hands as loudly as I could.

Alice dropped like a stone to the floor, a white flash in the darkness.

I thought the thud must have been heard throughout the house, and waited in expectation of running feet along the corridor. But none came.

I was on my own, it seemed.

Falling to my knees beside Alice, I fumbled in the dark for the pulse at her throat. Her heart beat steadily, as though she had been asleep the whole time. She was not dead, then. For a moment, I had feared . . .

I jumped up and groped my way to the window. With trembling hands, I threw back the shutters and let the moonlight flood in across her face.

Alice looked like a fallen dove, lying white as a ghost beside my mother’s chest.

‘Alice?’ I tried, but knew from her steady breathing that she would not waken. Not until the effects of the possession had worn off.

She needed to sleep. And so did I.

Crouching, I got my hands under my friend’s arms, then dragged her over to the bed. But she weighed more than I had realized, and I was soon out of breath, grinning as I imagined what Richard would say if he could witness all this undignified puffing and panting.

Getting Alice under the covers was the hardest part, and afterwards I slumped against her unconscious body for several minutes, exhausted beyond thought.

The last thing I remember thinking before I fell asleep was, how much had the demon seen before I broke its possession of Alice’s body? My mother’s chest of magickal objects must still have been open as the creature came up behind me, the lid thrown back, everything on display.

You cannot hide from me.

Or had it said,
You cannot hide
it
from me
?

The next morning, Elizabeth appeared to have returned to her usual calm self. Looking at her in the Great Hall I could not see the red-eyed, lovesick girl from last night who had demanded every detail of her beloved’s looks and expression, then wept bitterly and turned us out of her room because she knew Robert could never be hers.

Today, Elizabeth was practising to be a queen. Her voice was cool and clear as she gave us our duties for the day: I was to tidy the sewing box and disentangle a mess of embroidery threads and silks with Alice’s help.

I did not mind this. Richard and I could do our spell work later – if it was even worth doing, now I knew that Marcus Dent had made his presence felt. I shivered as I thought of the man; this time of domestic tasks would be good for me, I realized. I could not spend all my days fearing the witchfinder’s arrival, and hopefully my banishing-spell last night would give us at least today in which to plan, to set our defences again. And I was at least now forewarned.

Alice had smiled at me on waking, cheerful as ever, her hair tousled, and I had known at once that she had no memory of what had happened last night.

I considered mentioning it, to see if Alice could remember anything, then changed my mind. It would serve no purpose and only distress her. No girl, after all, wanted to be told they had been possessed by a demon during the night, then manhandled back into bed afterwards.

Alejandro had offered to write out some Spanish poetry from memory for the princess to study, and Blanche and Kat were to take up their sewing on the wooden settle, the princess declared. Only my brother William was given no task, but set himself to work by fetching in fresh logs for the fire.

I wanted to sit near Alejandro and ask him discreetly about last night’s possession, but he had chosen the small desk under the windows for better light. So instead Alice and I arranged ourselves on the narrow bench we used at supper times, passing the sewing box between us along the table.

Richard came in from outside during these arrangements, and halted on the threshold, looking embarrassed. I studied him with a secret smile, wondering what on earth he had been doing. His clothes were filthy, his long fingers soiled with dirt, and he had lost his cap. Had he been casting spells
without me
?

‘Forgive my appearance, my lady,’ he said, bowing stiffly to Elizabeth. ‘The wind blew a tree down in the night across the track to the gate. I was just helping John to move it.’

The Lady Elizabeth eyed him from her position by the hearth, an unfathomable look on her face. Some days she seemed to be warming to John Dee’s apprentice, then other days she dismissed him as a servant beneath her notice.