Montfallcon scarcely heard her as he stood breathing deeply and glowering at the man who had robbed him of his power. Quire moved to the Queen’s side, as a guard might, out of concern.
Montfallcon whispered: “He is capable of any crime. He is more terrible than Hern, for he is not mad or vain, as Hern was.”
“Sir Thomasin-please escort the Lord Chancellor back to his apartments and make him to rest. Return, my lord, when you are in more civil humour. Doctor Dee, if you can help, please do so, though I fear…”
Montfallcon looked from Dee to Ffynne as they stood on either side of him. “Am I arrested?”
“Of course not, Perion,” said Ffynne, “but you are distressed. The Queen’s concern is for your health. Doctor Dee could attend you, if you so wished, giving you some drug to help this mood pass.”
“What? Am I to be poisoned by the magus?”
With these predictable words, he was led away.
Gloriana embraced her Quire. “Oh, my love, that you should suffer so much insult!”
Quire was brave. “I do not blame him, madam.” He stroked her face as she stretched beside him on the couch. “He is, as you say, distracted by his friend’s death.”
“Tell me that I shall not have to make the Progress. It would mean parting from you for so long. And I do not think it will do any good to our cause.”
“You must not exhaust yourself, madam, by a journey of that length. Albion needs you at the Court. Who knows what evil would develop here? Already so much, as I understand it, is unexplained. It could be that the Countess of Scaith is still alive….”
“Oh, Quire my dear, if it were only so. What two good friends I should have then.” And she hugged him tightly, burying her head on his shoulder as he seemed to reel, with frowning, puzzled eyes, beneath the force of her love.
THE TWENTY-SEVENTH CHAPTER
Lord Shahryar of Baghdad drew off his pointed helm, causing its silver curtain to clash as he placed it I J beside his curved sword on the table in the tavern’s private room. It was almost dawn and he had been waiting for Quire for three hours; it would be their third meeting since their original bargain had been struck. Near the shuttered window the snag-toothed Tinkler, who now sported threadbare brocade and a crumpled ruff, drained the last of the bottle he had brought for them both but which the Saracen had disdained. “He’ll be here soon, my lord.”
“You know? It was I sent you the message of where to be.”
“I know my old master, the Captain.”
“It’s your new master who concerns me.” Lord Shahryar seemed nervous. “What shall you report, eh?”
“Lord Montfallcon gave me to understand that I carried on Captain Quire’s work. And so I served him. Now that Captain Quire is back, well, I serve the same master as he serves.” Tinkler, however, was uncomfortable. “I shan’t betray you, sir-it would mean betraying the Captain.” He scratched at his itching head.
In came Quire, hastily, a little short of breath. “There are disadvantages in being so close to the monarch.” He slammed the door shut, pushing back his cloak. As well as his usual black he now wore a wide red sash, knotted on the right. It was as if the lower part of his body was stained with blood, so unlikely was the sight. He placed his sombrero near the Saracen’s helm. “You prepare for war already, my lord?”
“This is court dress. I have been waiting a week in the Presence Chamber for audience with the Queen. Together with a large deputation from the Caliph, who is growing doubtful, Quire, about the success of our scheme.”
“He should not be. Everything progresses.” A wink at Tinkler. “You’re looking quite a gallant, Tink. Montfallcon’s gold?”
“He paid me your wages in full.”
“He’s generous. You should continue to serve him.”
“Not now you’re returned, Captain.” Tinkler became relaxed.
Quire seated himself opposite Lord Shahryar and put folded arms upon the table. “Forgive me if I seem weary. My duties exhaust me.”
Tinkler laughed coarsely. Lord Shahryar feigned suitable disgust and said: “I need more specific news. Matters seemed to move well, but now I suspect your plans stick. The death of the girl created all that you told me would be created. On Accession Day your plan could not have been better realized. But now there is silence from you and, save for Ingleborough’s death, which was to be expected and which achieved nothing (the page, by the way, is embarked for Arabia, a present for the Caliph), it is almost as if you had given up on us.”
“I have a handful of Privy Councillors with me. Upstanding gentlemen become besotted fops, who support every decision I encourage the Queen to make.” Quire lifted his lip. “Montfallcon is all but exiled, he is so disgraced, and the Queen will no longer listen to him, for she is convinced he is mad with jealousy. The Court divides into two main camps-those who share Montfallcon’s opinions and those who share the Queen’s-and further divisions are to be expected. The Progress is halted and so the Realm will not be reassured. The Perrotts continue with their fleet and shall soon sail against Arabia-giving you just cause for war, but also allowing you to hold off and make kindly terms (though you may have to defeat the Perrotts first, as well as those who choose to sail with them). There are enough, and more coming to the Perrott side, particularly nobles who feel slighted by the Queen’s refusal of their invitations. And there are details of other schemes I bring to fruition. And you are unhappy, my lord? If that is so"-a theatrical reaching for the hat-"then I can always find a fresh patron, and chance these advantages about.”
“You owe me your life, Captain Quire. And you swore you would serve my interests.”
Quire fell back against the chair’s rest. “But if I’m not serving them well enough, my lord, I see no reason why you should continue to employ me. Can any one man do what I have done? As Montfallcon almost singlehandedly built up the Golden Age, so am I destroying it. As, in all reason, it deserves to be destroyed; Myth is but another word for Ignorance.”
“How long, then? Before everything is ready?”
“Another month. By October the nobles will be glad of a marriage between Gloriana and Hassan, if it soothes their fears.”
“And what can I be doing for you, Captain?” eagerly said Tinkler, drunk on the talk he had overheard. “I could kill Montfallcon for you.”
“And throw suspicion immediately onto me? No-he destroys himself. I want you to continue working for him, Tink.”
“What? I can’t!”
“It’s best. You’ll bring me information I can use.”
“You don’t want me to come back with you, Captain, into the old partnership?”
“No. Serve Montfallcon in every way he tells you-only report to me when it is possible.”
Tinkler shrugged. “If you say so, Captain Quire.”
“Your position is perfect for us.”
“Very well, Captain.” He seemed to be sulking.
Lord Shahryar picked up his helmet. “Then what shall I tell my Caliph?”
“That the Queen’s bewitched by me, that she will do anything I say, that when the time comes I shall give her decisions which shall put her firmly into the marriage bed with him, though I know not what good it will do either-”
“Captain Quire!” Shahryar snatched up the curved sword. “You’ll make no offensive jests concerning my master!”
“I’ll make what jests I care to make,” said Quire coldly. “For my secrets are recorded, as always. And if I die, your plans are given away. If that were to happen, the Realm would unite at once. It would undo all our work. Thus, too, Lord Montfallcon fears to betray me. For years he has sustained the myth through lies and espionage, murder, torture and destruction of contrary opinion. If evidence should emerge-as I might allow it to do, at the right moment-that Gloriana’s golden reign is based as firmly on blood as was her father’s, then you’ll have a thousand nobles turning on her, snatching down the figurehead in the vulgar belief that they destroy the ship.”