Lucy's Blade

by John Lambshead

  There was a pause. 'Gosh!' thought Lilith. 'Do you know what those women do?'

  'I know.' Lucy giggled inside. 'Did you see uncle's face? Isn't this fun?'

  Walsingham escorted Lucy across the field, detouring around the larger piles of animal waste. He walked around the building to the door that led to the boxes.

  A steward reading a notice gave a bored "Yes?" as Walsingham's shadow fell across him. Gwilym prodded him and the steward looked up. He immediately smartened his attitude. "Can I help you, lady, gentlemen?" The steward would have no idea who Walsingham was but their clothes, especially Lucy's dress, indicated that they were "quality."

  "Sir Christopher Hatton has invited us to his box."

  "Yes sir, he is expecting guests. Please follow me."

  He led the way up steep wooden stairs to the first floor and knocked on a door. A servant opened it. Sir Christopher was sat on one of the wooden benches but he jumped up as his guests entered. "Francis, welcome, and Lady Dennys, what a unique pleasure."

  Lucy kissed him demurely on the lips and he held her hands. "Francis, your niece gets more pretty with every passing year. You sit at the front, Lady Dennys, where you can see. Francis can sit behind with me so we can talk."

  Simon sat down beside Lucy. Gwilym leaned against the wall by the door where he could watch anyone entering. A servant came in with glasses of hypocras. This expensive sweet liqueur, imported by Venetians from Smyrna, was a rare treat. The servant passed around plates of sugared pastries and pears.

  The theatre was a hexagon open to the sky in the centre. The stage was a raised area against the front wall. Two highly decorated pillars held up a canopy that protected the actors from the elements. The underside of the roof was painted deep blue and decorated with stars.

  All sorts of fascinating doors and hatches opened onto the stage. Hatton's private box was on the left side. There was another box above them and two more on the other side of the stage. Covered galleries with benches ran all round, many already full of prosperous traders and yeomen. "Groundlings," who paid a penny a head for the privilege, sprawled around on the wooden floor. A great buzz of excitement filled the air. Beer and snack sellers worked the crowds, shouting their goods.

  Simon kept half an ear on the conversation behind him.

  "Rumours say that Drake has taken a great treasure off the dons. What say the Secret Service?" Hatton looked enquiringly at Walsingham.

  "Rumours for once are right. My sources suggest Drake may have more than half a million pounds in treasure aboard," said Walsingham.

  "More than half a million?" Hatton whistled. "We could fund a war with that."

  "We may have to," said Walsingham. "Admiral Santa Cruz is preparing a great fleet to invade the Azores. This will be a testing ground to see if Spanish Mediterranean amphibious warfare can be adapted to the Atlantic. I suspect we will be next if the invasion succeeds."

  "The appeasers on the Council plan to prosecute Drake for piracy, when he comes back, if he comes back," said Hatton. "They think Philip will be satisfied with just Drake's head."

  "Burghley will sit on the fence. He knows we need the sea dogs but he also still hopes for a rapprochement with Madrid," said Walsingham.

  "The western merchants will back Drake. Plymouth and Bristol have suffered badly from Spanish practices."

  "But the northern woollen men will back the appeasers, as they want to protect their trade to the Low Countries, and the London men will split half and half," said Walsingham.

  "There is nothing else for it, Francis. You, Leicester, and I will have to use our vetoes on the Council to block any prosecution moves."

  "It will come down to the Queen then," said Walsingham. "And that means it will come down to money. The Queen will support him if Drake brings enough Spanish treasure back, otherwise." Walsingham shrugged.

  "She may even knight him if he really has captured half a million pounds." Hatton laughed. "I'm joking, of course, not even Elizabeth would knight a privateer. Not that Drake doesn't deserve it, mind."

  "Open war with Spain is inevitable, Christopher, but I want it on our terms, which means at sea. We have not a hope if we let a Spanish army into England. Even if we win, the country will be devastated by war but the most likely result is an endless stalemate, like the campaign in the Low Countries."

  Musicians filed out onto the gallery over the stage and began to play a jaunty tune on wind instruments and drums. The audience quietened down to a low murmur. A master of ceremonies came on stage and briefed the spectators on the background to the play, which involved Greek heroes and gods. Simon could tell Lucy was enjoying herself immensely.

  The actors created their usual magic with a minimum of special effects and props. 'Lucy,' thought Lilith. "Why are all the women's parts played by boys?"

  'Women on the stage?' Lucy thought. 'Why, that would be scandalous and would bring the noble city of Southwark into disrepute.'

  Lilith pondered. So whoring was acceptable but women on a stage was scandalous. It was all so perplexing.

  Gwilym went over to Walsingham and whispered in his ear.

  "Tunstall," said Walsingham. "Have a good look at the upper left box on the other side of the stage."

  Simon did as he was bid. "My God, Sir Francis. It's Bernardino de Mendoza, the Spanish Ambassador."

  "I wonder what the head of the Spanish spy network in northern Europe is doing here," pondered Walsingham.

  One of the Greek Gods descended from heaven by means of a trapdoor and a series of pulleys. Walsingham leaned over to Lucy. "Doctor Dee made stage props fly better than anyone I know. Of course, they tried to burn him at the stake for it."

  The play ended with an uplifting moral conclusion and a song. Some people left but many stayed to hear the musicians play.

  "We must be going, Christopher. Thank you for your hospitality. I have a wherry waiting east of the bridge to take me to the Tower. Can I give you a lift across the river?"

  The pilings of London Bridge acted like a great dam across the Thames. It was possible to "shoot" the bridge and get a boat from one side to another but tide and wind had to be just right so it was safer to change boats each side of the obstacle.

  "Thank you but no, Francis. I will tarry here a while as I am expecting a lady to join me."

  "Ah," said Walsingham. He led Lucy out on his arm. Their route took them through the centre of the theatre. Here was all a chatter and bustle.

  "Can I have something to eat, Uncle?"

  "Of course, Lucy. You always seem to be hungry these days."

  Walsingham took out his purse and purchased the girl a bag of nuts from one of the vendors. Simon noticed a groundling look intently at Walsingham's purse and nudge his mate. The two men moved towards Walsingham. At that point, Gwilym casually strolled over. Covering the ground quickly for such a large man, he grasped the groundling's arm. The groundling tried to pull away but his arm could not have been anchored more securely had a granite block materialised around it. Gwilym shook his head. "Somewhere else," he said

  "What?" asked the groundling, confused.

  "Try your luck somewhere else, mate." Gwilym released his arm. The two men scuttled away. Walsingham and Lucy strode on. They circumnavigated a crowd around a beer seller and came face to face with the Spanish Ambassador, who was also escorting a lady. There was no room to pass unless someone gave way.

  Lilith watched in fascination as Lucy scanned along the faces in the way humans, or at least Lucy, did. She was detached from the encounter until Lucy reached the lady.

  Lilith screamed in Lucy's head. 'It's her, it's her.'

  Walsingham inclined his head. "Your Excellency."

  "Sir Francis, did you enjoy the play?"

  "Immensely, it is so satisfying when the forces for good triumph," said Walsingham.

  Two large, hard men moved to flank the Ambassador and his lady. Gwilym likewise moved alongside Walsingham's left. Simon copied Gwilym and moved to flank Lucy on the right.
He tried to look suitably tough but he was aware that he cut an indifferent figure as a bodyguard.

  "May I introduce Lady Isabella, who is newly arrived on these shores?" said de Mendoza.

  "You servant, milady," said Walsingham, taking off his hat in a wide sweep. "This is my niece, the Lady Dennys."

  Lucy curtseyed. "Your Excellency."

  'It's the witch-woman. Look out, Lucy, it's the witch-woman.'

  'Will you behave, Lilith? I can't follow the conversation with you screaming,' thought Lucy.

  "I have warned Isabella to be careful. England looks pretty but it can be such a dangerous place, like many developing nations. I understand that even you were attacked the other day." De Mendoza smiled.

  Sir Francis smiled back. "Indeed, England can be dangerous, Your Excellency. This very morning my groom had a serious accident. Poor fellow was kicked by a horse and died."

  Gwilym spoke softly in Walsingham's ear.

  "My mistake. The horse doesn't kick him until this afternoon," said Walsingham.

  That explains who was the traitor at Barn Elms, thought Simon. Gwilym had clearly arranged to stopper the leak of information permanently.

  "However, I am sure the Lady Isabella is quite safe. It's your health that bothers me, de Mendoza. You can imagine how upset I would be if a horse kicked you." At this point Walsingham's false smile slipped. The bodyguards reacted to the increased tension. One of the Spanish heavies put a hand on his dagger's hilt. He froze as Gwilym's dagger appeared from thin air.

  Lilith was hardly an expert on human reactions but she could feel the tension. She was confused, as nothing had happened that seemed to justify the way the men were behaving. She decided to ask for clarification.

  'Lucy, what is going on?' thought Lilith.

  'There is going to be a fight.'

  'Why do they want to fight?' thought Lilith.

  'They don't. A fight will be disastrous both for England and Spain.'

  Lilith pondered this but Lucy's explanation only added to her confusion. Lucy's gaze flicked over Isabella as the girl's eyes scanned from side to side. Lilith noted something. She reran, magnified, and analysed the short flicker of vision that she had recorded as Lucy's eyes had swept past Isabella. Lilith squandered power and extended her gravitonic senses towards the witch.

  'Lucy, Lucy, the witch is doing something with her hand. Look.' Lilith patched onto Lucy's optic nerves and fed in a signal that allowed Lucy to "see" what Lilith could detect gravitonically. 'The witch is making magic.'

  Lucy "saw" a black whirlpool forming around Isabella's hand. Each rotation of her wrist built up a bigger swirl.

  'I can earth it,' said Lilith.

  Simon saw Lucy's head snap down to follow Isabella's left hand which was making slow circular movements. He focussed on the women.

  "You'll hurt your wrist doing that, lady," said Lucy and she grabbed Isabella's hand. There was a crack and a pungent smell of sulphur and burning.

  "Ouch!" Isabella sucked at her fingers. A livid burn mark snaked across them. Smoke burned lazily from a charred wooden brick in the floor between the women.

  "There is more to you than meets the eye, Lady Dennys," said Isabella, examining her hand.

  "Much, much, more," said Lucy, cheerfully. She pulled out a nut. Simon noticed that Lucy also had a burn mark on her fingers but it did not seem to bother the girl. A line from an old poem went through his mind. "When the dogs have finished growling, the cats unsheathe their claws."

  "Refreshment, Lady Isabella. No? Oh well." Lucy shrugged. She casually squeezed the nut between her thumb and forefinger, until it shattered into tiny pieces.

  Isabella's eyes opened very wide.

  Walsingham and de Mendoza still faced each other down.

  'They are going to kill each other,' thought Lucy to Lilith. 'No one wants it but they will fight because my uncle will not step aside for a Spanish papist and a Spanish grandee steps aside for no man but royalty.'

  'That is illogical,' thought Lilith. 'Can't we do something to stop them?'

  'Men are illogical. They are just not rational like we women. To lose face before another man is worse than death.' The girl paused. 'That's the key. Watch and learn, Lilith.'

  "Uncle, I am rather fatigued and I have hurt my hand." Lucy held up her right hand to show the burns. She curtseyed to de Mendoza. "I am sorry to interrupt your conversation, Your Excellency, but would you mind awfully if Sir Francis escorted me home now?"

  De Mendoza seized on the moment to step aside with a gracious bow. "Of course not, Lady Dennys. I could not possibly inconvenience such a charming lady." He raised Lucy's hand to his lips. "You do seem to have hurt yourself, milady," he said, examining her fingers.

  The Ambassador turned to one of his men. "Clear those peasants aside to gain the lady passage." The bodyguard created a way for Lucy by the simple expedient of seizing a groundling by the scruff of the neck and using him as a broom to sweep away his friends. If the groundlings objected, they kept it to themselves.

  Lucy kissed de Mendoza on the lips and gave him her special smile. "I see the reputation of Spanish gentlemen for gallantry is not exaggerated, sir."

  "Neither is the reputation of English ladies for beauty and wisdom, madam."

  Simon could have cheerfully strangled the man. Why do women find these Latin lovers so compelling? he thought, unconsciously reiterating the question that has plagued North European men through the ages.

  "Another time," de Mendoza said to Walsingham.

  "You can count on it, Ambassador."

  Lucy took Walsingham's arm and the two swept out.

  Gwilym, following, passed a Spanish bodyguard. The men looked at each other with the dispassionate assessment of one professional for another. Their principals had parted civilly, therefore so did they. In other circumstances, they would have attempted to kill each other with the same professional detachment.

  Lilith had watched but she was not sure that she had understood much of what had just happened. Lucy had defused the situation with some sort of special magic.

  'Why did de Mendoza give way so eagerly? You said he would not step aside for anyone,' Lilith thought.

  'You weren't listening, Lilith. I said he would not step aside for any man. But I—' Lucy elevated her nose another five degrees. '—I am a lady.'

  Act 9

  The Streets of London

  Lucy found a sunlit bench in a quiet corner of the bailey in the Tower of London, where she could read in peace. Bushes secluded the bench from prying eyes.

  She had a talent for finding a small oasis of calm in whirlpools of activity. Life at Barn Elms had honed this skill to perfection.

  "Lilith, where are you? Come out where I can see you," said Lucy, out loud.

  The air in front of Lucy seemed to shimmer and Lilith appeared in a blue dress.

  "There you are, demon," Lucy said. "I wondered where you had got to."

  "I am where I always am—inside you," said Lilith.

  "I though, mayhap, you had found a way to withdraw," said Lucy. "I understand that you are casting a spell to show me an illusion but I find it easier to talk to someone that I can see."

  Lilith had tried to explain to Lucy just how she placed an image in her head but Lucy lacked the world picture to grasp the explanation. Maybe "casting a spell" was not such a bad explanation. The Shadow World with computers and other electronic devices had regarded magic as a primitive superstition but witchcraft seemed to work in this world. In fact, magic showed interesting similarities to her own gravitonic capabilities. Lucy's people appeared to work magic by influencing the probability of quantum effects with their minds.

  "So where have you been, Lilith? Have I offended you?"

  "No, I am trying not to interfere with your life. I only make contact with you when you call."

  "But you see everything that I do?"

  "Yes." Lilith paused. "I also record what you see and hear and touch. Would you like to see the play aga
in? I could arrange that."

  "That might be fun, but later. You know, I have never really had a friend before. At Barn Elms I was always the little Lady Dennys. I used to see the servant's children playing in the fields but I could never join them. It wasn't done, you see."

  "Ah," said Lilith. Things that are done and not done, the essential core of the human condition raised its head again.

  "Uncle Francis is a sugar-pie, of course."

  "Of course," agreed Lilith.

  "But he's my master, not my friend."

  "I have never had a friend either," said Lilith. "Before coming here my whole life was spent training for a role."

  "Just like me." Lucy clapped her hands with pleasure. "Lilith, you can always talk to me when you want. Just don't distract me when I am involved with someone or people will think me crazy or stupid."

  Lucy paused. "You are my friend, aren't you Lilith?"

  Lilith found it difficult to analyse her feelings. No one had ever shown her any affection and now this little human trusted her. After all she had done to the girl, Lucy still trusted her and called her friend. Lilith felt a rush of emotion. This is leakage, a stubborn analytical subroutine insisted, just leakage from the human's emotion centre. Lilith did not care, leakage or not it felt wonderful. Lucy's electrochemical nervous system was ridiculously inadequate compared to Lilith's own gravitonic processing and storage systems but somehow the little biosystem powered a wonderful person.

  "Yes," Lilith said, simply, and meant it.

  "Can you tell me exactly what Isabella was doing in the theatre?" asked Lucy.

  "That's not easy," said Lilliith. "She was manipulating gravitonic energies to draw power out of the matrix between the Shadow Worlds. She had aligned the strings that reach into the eleventh spatial dimension to link two universes. Everything lies close alongside everything else in the eleventh dimension."

  "I see," said Lucy. "Or rather I don't see. Could you translate that into English for me?"

  "She was working up a magic spell," said Lilith.

  "What would the spell have done if you hadn't 'earthed' it? And what is earthing anyway?"