She laughed, her eyes twinkling. "How you evaded the Doge's men in Venice by disguising yourself as a Harlequin?"
"True, my Lady." Will hid his weariness at the familiar tranche of questions, smiled and nodded and answered several more.
"And how you have romanced all the women at the Court of Elizabeth?" She narrowed her eyes.
"I have not heard that story, my Lady," he replied.
As a ripple of excited conversation crossed the room when the king entered, she took the opportunity to lean in close and whisper in Will's ear. "I would hear more of your tales, Master Swyfte. Perhaps in a quieter place?"
Before Will could respond, the king swept towards Will under the guidance of an unsettled Reidheid, and the Earl's wife retreated with a knowing gleam in her eye.
"Master Swyfte, the king would speak with you in private," Reidheid said, clearly unused to such attention.
The king had inherited his mother Mary's red hair, but none of her good looks or sexual charisma. Slightly feminine in manner, he had a weak chin, a lazy eye, a prominent nose, and his lips pursed in a manner that suggested he was passing judgment, but as he spoke to his guests in passing, Will could see he had a ready intellect and a bright sense of humour.
Will bowed. "You honour me."
"Yes. I do." James gave a wry smile.
Will followed him to the edge of the room where Reidheid and James's aides kept a respectful distance so the conversation could be conducted privately.
"Master Swyfte, your reputation precedes you," James said.
"So I have just been told."
"I would say, firstly, that the execution of my mother at Fotheringhay last year was a harsh blow, `a preposterous and strange procedure,' as I pronounced at the time." He chose his words carefully, hesitating for a long time at the end of the sentence. "How strange was it, Master Swyfte?"
"It was in accordance with the law of the land."
"That is not my meaning." After a moment's consideration, he continued, "My mother acted strangely for many years. She was not herself, do you understand?"
Will did not respond.
"The circumstances surrounding her execution led me to believe that there was more to her death than perhaps even I knew."
"These are matters of state, and I am a lowly-"
"I know what you are," James interrupted sharply. "I know the business of Walsingham's men." He leaned in and whispered forcefully, "Do you think me blind to the terrible ways of the world, when I am surrounded by vile things that seek to threaten everything we have built?"
"We have an understanding," Will replied.
"But you do not understand what it is like here in Scotland, Master Swyfte." Emotion rose in James's voice and for a moment it looked as if he might cry. "You do not understand the trials we face, the suffering inflicted upon my people in secret. They feel themselves the victims of a harsh fate, plucked from their homes, murdered as they cross the glens and hillsides. If only they knew the truth!"
"Which is why they should never know."
James calmed himself, nodding. "Scotland needs aid, Master Swyfte. We need the defences you have established in England."
"That is not a matter for me-"
James held up his hand. "I know. And I know you have the ear of some of the highest in the land. If you could take word back with you-"
"There are proper channels for that communication."
"And yet they are always closed to me! England does not want to know of our suffering!"
"England has suffering enough of its own. It faces enemies on every side, and from within. Many, I might add, that have crept in from north of the border, from your own Catholic sympathisers, and through the connections you have with France."
James's expression grew taut. "We need the aid of England. One day, if Elizabeth passes without issue, I will be king of England, and then there will come a change. I will save my nation, Master Swyfte."
"We all wish to see the Enemy defeated. This is not a matter of nations, or religion. Those are distractions ... yes, that is tantamount to treason in some quarters, but it is the truth. We are a brotherhood of man, and we should stand together against the greater threat. Only by recognising our common values can we rise up from our knees."
James smiled with a touch of relief. "It pleases me that we share this common ground, Master Swyfte. Perhaps change will come in my lifetime. Perhaps-"
A commotion rose up near the entrance to the State Rooms, and a second later several of the king's advisors ran over, concern marring their features. Ashen-faced, they hovered near their king, until one said, "They insist on entering. They claim it is their right as nobility."
With Will close behind, James marched towards the door, the crowd opening before him. The music died away, and the conversation stilled.
As the doors to the State Rooms swung open, the light from the candles grew dimmer, although the flames burned as strong. Shadows fell at strange angles, and a suffocating atmosphere descended. Here and there across the room, blood began to drip from noses.
Ten members of the Unseelie Court stepped in, the terrible weight of their gazes ranging across everyone present. The king's guests recoiled as one. The strangers advanced with languid superiority, like wolves among sheep, their emotions, their thoughts, everything about them unreadable. No one could look them fully in the face, and if any caught an eye by accident, the blood drained from them, and they crossed themselves, muttering prayers. Will knew the unease went far beyond the physical appearance of the Unseelie Court; it was as if a grave had been opened in everyone's presence.
So potent was the sense of threat, it was as if the strangers were on the brink of falling upon those assembled and slaughtering them where they stood. Their clothes, while of the finest material, appeared to be on the brink of rot, stained here and there with silvery mildew, the style harking back to a distant age. A scent of loam accompanied them. Their cheekbones were high, their hair long, their eyes pale, but there was an odd quality to their features that meant they rarely registered on the mind; once they had passed from view it was almost impossible to recall the details of their appearance.
Instantly, Will went for his knife, but James stopped him with a cautionary hand. "Leave them," he said desolately. "If we dare to challenge them, my people will pay the price for months, perhaps years, to come. Now do you see what I mean? Now do you see?" His voice cracked with anger.
From his bearing, one was clearly the leader. His long hair, the colour of sun on corn, fell around his shoulders, but failed to soften his icy features.
Spying James and Will, he approached, while his advisors circled the room, pausing to stare into the faces of those nearby. Some of the guests sobbed or swooned under the attention. Others took on a fatalistic expression that was painful to see, as if they had accepted that the date of their death had been decided.
The leader studied James's and Will's faces for a moment as if examining a lesser species. His eyes were too black, his stare unblinking. "I am honoured to be in the presence of the great King James of the land of Scotland," he said, pronouncing each word as if he carried a pebble in his mouth. His voice was low, and quiet, and some quality to it made Will feel unaccountably cold. "I am Cavillex of. . ." He paused, and then added with a contemptuous nod "... the Unseelie Court."
"You are the king of your people?" James asked.
Cavillex's eyes narrowed. "My family guides the Court." His attention skittered on to Will. "You trespassed in one of my homes, hurt one of those close to me, took what is mine-"
"I freed a poor soul imprisoned against his will."
James flinched at Will's defiance.
"Took what is mine," Cavillex repeated. "The disrespect you have shown is unforgivable. I would know your name."