Blood of the Rose (22 page)

“Well, thank you for that reassurance, Uncle. I’ll be there.”

Christopher bowed and headed toward Anne’s apartments, his mind in a whirl. His uncle was indeed in league with Anne Boleyn. It also explained why the Mithras Cult had been ordered to follow only the dictates of the Vampires. But exactly what had Anne offered Edward in return for his support?

Christopher turned to watch his uncle’s stumbling gait, and remembered his ill health. Could it be that Anne had promised to turn Edward into a Vampire, thus giving him immortality and immunity from death?

Christopher let out a curse. It might well be that simple. It would be like his uncle to put his own skin ahead even of his devotion to the Mithras Cult. He and Anne Boleyn were very alike indeed.

“Rhys, I told you, Christopher said he would get away if he could. Lady Anne watches him closely, you know that.”

Rhys’s face took on a mulish expression that Rosalind knew all too well. “He needs to be here. How can we discuss how we mean to go forward if he fails to make an appearance?”

“You can’t have it both ways, Rhys. We told him to keep away from us.”

It was after midnight and, even though she was dressed in her boy’s garb, Rosalind was cold sitting on the palace rooftop. She drew her cloak more firmly around herself and studied Rhys, who sat opposite her. His long legs were drawn up to his chin, his arms wrapped around them. His hazel gaze seemed far away.

“Is something wrong, Rhys?”

He jumped as if she had poked him. “No, my lady. I’m just thinking through what you’ve told me.”

“And?”

“I have no idea what a Vampire wants,” he said flatly. “Especially one like Anne Boleyn, who already has more than any other woman in the kingdom.”

“Do you think she wants to rule in the king’s stead?”

“How could she do that? She’s a woman.”

Rosalind frowned at him. “Maybe she intends to make history. Women are quite capable of ruling, Rhys.”

“As if I didn’t already know that.” Rhys ran a hand through his thick pelt of red hair. “Let us suppose Anne wants to rule the kingdom; why not turn the king now, or simply kill him?”

“Because she has to be legally married to him to gain his powers in this mortal world?”

“Aye, that’s a possibility, and might explain both the delay and the king’s current good health.” Rhys glanced over at the waning moonlight. “And how is your health, my lady? Are you still puking?”

“Yes.” Rosalind made a face at him. “I am beginning to wonder if Anne Boleyn is having me poisoned.”

“She’s certainly capable of it, and poison is a woman’s weapon.”

“Not one that I would choose. I’d much rather use my dagger.”

Rhys chuckled. “Perhaps you should find a wisewoman and ask her about your sickness.”

“I might do that if it gets any worse. I hate being sick.”

There was a scraping sound on the edge of the parapet and Christopher’s gloved hands appeared. He levered himself up over the crenellations and onto the flat roof.

“Good evening, Rhys.”

“ ’Evening, my lord.”

Christopher smiled at Rosalind and she suddenly felt warm. “And how are you this fine night, my lady?”

“I’m quite well, sir.” Rosalind shifted over to allow Christopher to sit on the stone ledge beside her. “You managed to evade the Boleyns, then?”

“They were entertaining the king, so I was able to slip out.” Christopher hugged Rosalind and then looked expectantly at Rhys. “Have you come up with any ideas to bring down the cursed Boleyns?”

Rhys cleared his throat. “No, but I know it’s simple enough; we just have to discover what Anne wants more than anything else in the world.”

“And yet she already appears to have everything, including the prospect of lording it over a whole nation full of Vampires.” Christopher groaned and rubbed his bearded chin.

Rosalind stared at Rhys and then at Christopher. “I wonder . . .”

Both of them turned to her. “What?”

Rosalind stood and started pacing the small space. “If Anne believed she could rule the country in her own right, would she do it?”

“She’d probably love to, but no one would accept a female ruler, not the king’s privy council, parliament, or the Vampire Council,” Christopher said.

“That’s what Rhys said, and it reminded me of something I heard Anne say, that she wanted to marry the king so that she could give him the heir he desires. What if she gave King Henry an heir and then killed the king? She could rule through her son.”

Christopher looked thoughtful. “What would stop her from simply doing away with the king and choosing another Vampire to create an heir?”

A familiar voice broke into the conversation. “Because Vampires, especially those who are older and more powerful, tend to be unable to have young.”

Rosalind turned to face Elias, who had appeared on the roof behind her. “Is that so?”

He floated down to stand beside her. He wore a dull brown silk doublet that blended into the darkness. “Most Vampires make their ‘children’ by turning other humans. It has proved difficult for Vampires to breed amongst ourselves.” He nodded at Rosalind. “Your theory is an interesting one. At her age, Anne might believe she needs a lusty human male to provide the ‘new blood’ necessary to create a child. She may indeed be pinning her hopes on the king.”

“Which would explain why she hasn’t turned him yet.”

“Indeed.” Elias took a seat beside Rhys. “I’m not sure if that really helps us or not.”

Rosalind crouched in front of him. “It might help us. What if we could guarantee that Anne would give the king an heir?”

“What madness is this?” Christopher asked.

Rosalind sought his gaze. “We do not have the time or the resources to stop Anne becoming queen. It is a near certainty. But what if we offer her a bargain? One that means she will be assured of giving the king an heir? If we promise her that, maybe in exchange we can make her promise not to turn the king.”

Rhys interrupted. “But what if we help her get with child, and then she turns on us and kills the king anyway?”

“We’ll make the bargain a sacred one. If she tries to break it, we will expose her dark secrets to the king.”

Rosalind looked hopefully at all the men and saw only their doubts. “We have to do
something
. If we bind her with sacred vows, even for a little while, it gives us more time to work out how to disentangle the king from her magic and make sure he realizes what he is really facing.”

“But how can we ensure she has a child?” Christopher asked.

Rosalind smiled. “Rhys and I will take the matter up with our Druid priests and Elders. Remember, the Vampires and Druids share a common ancestry, and fertility rites are a foundation of our beliefs.”

Christopher had the grace to blush as if he too remembered their heated encounter on the Beltane altar the previous year. “It sounds preposterous, but I cannot think of anything else, so you might as well try.”

“Thank you, Christopher.” Rosalind looked at Rhys and Elias. “Are you both in agreement too?”

“Aye,” Rhys said. “I’ll come with you to the stone circle tomorrow night.”

Elias stood up more slowly, his thoughtful gaze fixed on Rosalind. “I will see if I can find out anything that supports your theory, my lady.” He hesitated. “It does make a certain sense. I have never succeeded in producing a child, and George is so new that any child of his would be an easy kill for most Vampires.”

Rosalind took his hand and he looked startled. “Be careful, Elias.”

He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them, his breath as cold as the grave. “I will be, my lady.”

Elias disappeared and Rosalind turned to face Christopher, who was still frowning. “Don’t feel sorry for him, Rosalind, or he’ll start thinking about making you his life mate again.”

“But I do feel sorry for him. He obviously cares for Anne far more than he is prepared to admit.”

“Are you suggesting that Vampires can have feelings? I thought they were all soulless monsters.”

Rosalind held Christopher’s gaze. “I was wrong about that.”

“And I was wrong about the Druids.” Christopher nodded at Rhys. “Some of you are quite pleasant.”

Rosalind raised her eyes heavenward. Sometimes, Christopher’s tendency to jest when things became serious was quite irritating. “Rhys and I will confer with the Elders tomorrow night.”

Christopher headed back toward the edge of the roof, his black silk doublet glinting with silver threads in the moonlight. “Why would they agree? Surely they will not allow their ancient knowledge to be used to help a Vampire?”

Rhys moved closer to Rosalind. “They helped you, didn’t they?”

“Well, they allowed me to survive the stone circle twice, so I suppose that’s true, but surely that was different. That was because of the prophecy.”

“The Druid race will always do what it must to survive.”

Rhys sounded harsh and Rosalind understood why. Their race was dying out. She could only hope that the threat of the Vampires taking over the whole country would sway the Elders’ decision in their favor.

Rosalind caught Christopher’s hand. “We will do our best. How did it go with your friend Marcus?”

“Not terribly well. Marcus was quite happy to accept my assistance in deposing my uncle, but rather unwilling to help me help myself.”

Rosalind frowned. “Why do you need his help?”

He opened his mouth and then shut it again. “I must learn to keep a still tongue in my head when I am around you. You make me far too confiding.”

“What is going on? Are you in danger?”

He glanced down at her, his ready smile bittersweet. “I’m in no more danger than a year ago, so don’t fret.” He kissed her hand and gave it back to her.

She tossed her head. “Either tell me the truth or don’t. I care not.”

He cupped her cheek. “I cannot tell you. That’s the truth. There—will that do?”

She stamped her foot. “Christopher, you promised to be honest with me.”

“And I’m trying to be. I’m also trying not to betray others who are involved. I owe them my silence. Can’t you see that?”

“I suppose I have no choice in the matter.”

He chucked her under the chin. “Don’t pout, love. It is most unbecoming.”

She scowled at him instead. “Is that better?”

“Infinitely.”

Rhys cleared his throat. “Have you lovebirds finished?”

“We have, indeed.” Christopher bowed and walked away, leaving Rosalind staring at his back.

“Verily, I’m worried that Christopher is not telling me the whole truth.”

“About what?”

“About the Mithras Cult. Why is it so important for him to deal with his uncle and the cult when we need all his attention here with us?”

“I have no idea.”

“And that is why I’m worried.”

Rhys folded his arms across his chest. “What do you expect me to do about it?”

“Watch out for him. Tell me if you hear any gossip.”

“While I’m also watching out for the Vampires?” Rhys sighed. “Is there anything else? Would you like me to lie down on the ground so that you can walk all over me properly?”

Rosalind bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

He turned his back on her.

“What is it, Rhys?”

He slowly turned around. “It’s just that I seem far too willing to care about women who will never come to care for me.”

“Is there someone else?” Rosalind found it surprisingly hard to ask the question without making it sound like an accusation. “Are you in love with another woman?”

“I am . . . a fool.” He headed off toward the stairs. “A fool who needs to seek his bed and stop talking.”

Rosalind followed along more slowly. Had Rhys really met another woman? She’d hardly think he had time, what with all the fighting they had been doing recently. She took a deep breath of the cool air and savored the silence. It was a victory of sorts. In one night, she’d managed to make both Christopher and Rhys stop talking and walk away from her.

Chapter 17

R
hys grabbed hold of Rosalind’s hand and helped her through a tangle of dead branches and dried-out sage bushes. The waterfall that guarded the secret valley was almost silent now, its sound and flow reduced to a small trickle of brackish water that crept through the rocks rather than cascaded.

The ancient stone circle at the bottom of the valley looked the same, rising from the ground as if it had grown there as naturally as the wilderness that surrounded it. Rosalind pressed her hand to the nearest upright dark blue stone and felt an immediate pulse of energy. The sun was setting behind the trees, leaving the circle bathed in a warm welcoming glow.

“Are we expected, Rhys?”

“I prayed for help, so I assume someone will come.” Rhys’s reply was unhurried, his calm gaze fixed on the inner circle of stones where the altar lay. “If we wait in the center and make an offering, I’m sure they’ll find us.”

Rosalind walked slowly through the outer circle and onward, her mind recalling the last time she was here, when the powerful Spanish Vampire had almost succeeded in killing her, the king,
and
the men she loved. With a shiver, she drew her cloak around her and pushed the memories away.

Rhys drew a leather pouch from his jerkin pocket and crouched down in front of the altar where a flat piece of scorched rock gave evidence of other sacrificial fires. He cleared a space in the dirt and laid out narrow strips of bark and twigs.

“Willow to ask for the gift of sight, birch to protect us against the Vampire evil, and oak for fertility and luck,” Rhys murmured. On top of the small pile he added some sage leaves. “That should do it.”

Rosalind watched as he struck a flint to produce a spark, slowly blew on a wisp of grass until it glowed red, and then built up the fire until it was capable of devouring his piled-up twigs.

Sweet-smelling smoke rose from the small fire. Rosalind closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. The herbs cleansed her thoughts and reduced her anxiety. She felt far more ready to face whatever was coming. Beside her, Rhys took a hasty breath and went still.

She opened her eyes to see three figures emerging from between the stones. Two elderly men and one woman, all dressed in simple white robes. Rosalind quickly knelt down beside Rhys.