In Defense of the Queen

by Michelle Diener

  Parker spun in close, and Henry’s sword bit air. He thought the King had cause to be glad of choosing the Low Countries rules, prohibiting corps-à-corps, or Parker could have struck him with an elbow to the face or sternum.

  He danced to the side, and spun again, and now he was behind the King, in the perfect position for a back or side thrust. Or even a neck blow.

  He didn’t take the back strike. He waited for Henry to turn.

  As he did, Parker crouched down, so the King’s neck strike passed harmlessly overhead, and he brought the flat of his sword against Henry’s side.

  Bryan called the strike, but as King, rather than Champion, per the rules, Henry had the advantage of an after-stroke. He took the single step allowed, and countered.

  Parker brought his sword up to block, and for the last time came in close, the two swords resting against each other’s hilts.

  They stared straight at each other for a moment, before Parker dropped his gaze.

  “Well played.” Henry stepped back, forcing his breathing slow and even through his nose. “You always fight as if your life depended on it, Parker.”

  “That is because my life often does.” Parker did not say it was usually on the King’s business. He didn’t need to.

  “You think we merely play games here?” Henry’s eyes flashed, but Parker was already shaking his head.

  “I think I need to come here more often. It is good to practice.” His response was truthful, and Henry accepted it with a grunt.

  “Why did you come today, if not to take a turn with bouting?”

  “My lady still sits in the Tower, Your Majesty. I have no time for anything but seeing she is released.”

  “Wolsey has yet to bring me any proof of her treason, or even tell me what that treason is, and her confinement is slowing down the portrait I would have of Fitzroy.” Henry stripped off his gloves, and tapped them against his leg.

  “I will give Wolsey until tomorrow evening to bring me proof, and if he has none, I will sign her release myself.”

  It was more than he’d hoped for.

  Parker bowed. “My thanks.”

  Henry nodded his acknowledgement, and turned away, calling to Bryan to match the next opponents.

  Parker looked up and saw Wolsey just within the ranks of spectators. For a beat, their gazes clashed, and Wolsey took a step back in surprise. He recovered, drew himself tall and turned on his heel, robes fluttering about him as he strode from the inner courtyard.

  Parker felt a frisson of satisfaction. Run and beg for proof, Cardinal. You won’t find it.

  He turned back to hand Bryan his gloves and stopped midway as he saw someone slip from the courtyard after the Cardinal.

  He frowned. The man trailing Wolsey was Will Somers.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  I must freely own that as long as there is any property, and while money is the standard of all other things, I cannot think that a nation can be governed either justly or happily: not justly, because the best things will fall to the share of the worst men; nor happily, because all things will be divided among a few

  Utopia by Thomas More (translated by H. Morley)

  “You feel it, too?” Susanna’s words halted Harry in his tracks at the far end of the room. He turned, but instead of pacing back, he stood still. Grimaced.

  “Feel what?” Eric looked up from his letters, and Susanna was pleased to see his progress. He would be reading in no time.

  She enjoyed the thrill this small act of subversion gave her. Very few women could read, and certainly very few-man or woman-of Eric’s station could do so. That she could teach him, give him this weapon that would serve him a thousand times over for the rest of his life, was a matter of deep satisfaction.

  “We’ve been lucky to have two nights, as it is.” Harry did not soften his voice, he spoke baldly.

  “I would have thought if they were going to take me, they’d have tried earlier today.” She said it, because it was what she wanted to think, but she did not truly believe it herself. They would be back. It was only a matter of time, and time was running out.

  “They can’t come at night, though.” Eric dipped his quill into the ink again. “When curfew is announced, no one can come through those gates.”

  “They could already be here. Hiding in there.” Harry stepped over to the window and looked out at the White Tower. “All they need do is take you to that dungeon, and their problems with you are solved.”

  “I don’t think they will try after curfew.” She knew Kilburne and his men enforced the curfew strictly, and she didn’t see Wolsey’s thugs trying to get to her then. It was easier during the day, when so many outsiders had access to the Tower, going about their business.

  “It’s not long to curfew now.” Eric joined Harry at the window, and all three of them looked out at the darkening sky.

  “You don’t often get a sky that purple.” Harry spoke reverently.

  Susanna wanted to answer, but she was too busy staring at the colour. It was so amazing, if she painted it, it was sure to be taken as an artistic impression. She would do it, anyway. She was already choosing the pigments she would need to mix to get the right shade.

  “Funny, how beautiful it is, no matter where you are.” Eric pressed his nose to the glass. “You would think from in here, the view would be worse somehow, just because it is here.”

  The knock at the door, so firm and authoritative, made them all jump.

  Harry had the knife from his boot before he’d crossed the room. He stopped at the door and raised his hand, ready to strike down, as he swung it open.

  A figure stepped through, in dark monks’ robes, with the cowl pulled deep over his face. A long, bony-fingered hand came up to push it back. “You don’t seem pleased to see me.” The King’s Fool smiled his death-mask smile.

  They stared at him in shock.

  Susanna was the first to recover. She curtsied and when she lifted her face again, she saw Somers had a strange glint in his eye.

  “There are all sorts of rumours flying about the court regarding you, Mistress Horenbout.” He made no move to step deeper into the room.

  “What do they say?”

  “Very little of substance.” Somers smiled. “I should know. I’ve started most of them.”

  Harry’s grip on his knife tightened, and Susanna shook her head.

  “My guess is those rumours have been in my favour.”

  Somers chuckled. “Well, let us say the rumour the King has imprisoned you while you work on a portrait of his son so none can see it until it is finished is holding its place as the favourite. Especially as two courtiers saw you arrive and leave Durham House yesterday accompanied by a guard but not restrained by them in any way. The original rumour from the night you saw the King, that you were a traitor, has been quite forgotten, or dismissed.”

  Harry let his knife-hand drop. “They believe the King would lock someone away to keep a painting private?”

  Somers turned to stare at him as if he were simple-minded.

  Harry shrugged. “It sounds ridiculous.”

  Somers let out a truly deep belly laugh. “As ridiculous as they are themselves.”

  “My thanks for the distraction, sir. If I am able to return to court, I would rather it not be with whispers of treason about me.”

  “Why doesn’t Wolsey say why he’s got you here?” Eric frowned. “He would like you disgraced in everyone’s eyes.”

  “I’m sure he would like to. I would say his natural prudence is at war with his need to crush Mistress Horenbout, but until he has his proof—”

  “You know he has no proof?” Susanna stepped closer to him.

  Somers lifted his hands to his ears and pretended to flap them. “I can be invisible, when I wish. And I’ve taken quite an interest in the Cardinal of late. I just happened to be skulking at the right place at the right time. It is just a pity that I cannot repeat the conversation I overhead to the court.” He sighed, his face tur
ning hangdog. “Some wonderful material dropped like a coin down the gong.”

  “Wolsey has no proof, and he cannot be sure he will get it. So he’s said nothing, lest he has to release me later, and look a fool.” Susanna spoke slowly, turning the words over on her tongue like a gold-leaf covered confection.

  “Better to be a Fool than look a fool.” Somers spoke deadpan, and then gave a quick, sly smile when Susanna’s cheeks heated in embarrassment.

  “What did you hear?” Harry watched the Fool in bemusement.

  “The King has given Wolsey until tomorrow evening to present proof or release you. Wolsey is having difficulty persuading his source to provide the proof, so his new solution is to extract it from Mistress Horenbout herself. As painfully as possible.”

  Susanna fisted her hands as he spoke. She had known this was a possibility, but to hear it . . . She breathed deep, the sweetness of Wolsey’s inability to label her traitor had gone. “Go on.”

  Somers sent her a sympathetic look. “I heard him informing one of his thugs to be ready to accompany him tomorrow. He has not been able to get a writ signed by the King, giving you over to him for questioning, but he has decided if he comes with his own writ, in person, Captain Kilburne or, if necessary, the Constable of the Tower himself, will have to acquiesce.”

  “They may. He is the Cardinal, after all.” She bent her head. “Although Wolsey is surely risking the King’s displeasure.”

  “What is your play in this?” Harry stepped between Somers and the door. “Why did you risk coming?”

  Irritation flashed in Somers’ eyes. “I owe no explanation to you.” He turned to Susanna. “Will you trust me?”

  She had wondered herself why Somers was taking the risks he had. But she didn’t doubt his honesty. Ever. She nodded.

  He nodded back, and extended his leg in a pretty imitation of courtly manners.

  “When tomorrow is he coming?” Eric had waited his turn, and now he clutched at Somers’ robe.

  “I don’t know. I would think it best if one of you were to watch him. Slow him down on his journey here. And meanwhile get Parker to have the King intervene in some way.”

  “If I’m to go, I have to go now.” Eric went to gather his cloak. “Curfew is in a few minutes.”

  Somers lifted his hood. “I will walk out with you. With luck, they will think you my acolyte. If Wolsey has spies watching, it’s better they don’t see you leave.”

  “Eric.” Susanna looked between him and Harry. “Tell Parker all is well with me. That I love him.”

  “You want me to go instead?” Harry was looking at her, and she shook her head.

  She did not want anyone in danger, guarding her, but her choices had been taken from her. “Eric, promise me you’ll be careful. That you’ll go straight to Parker.”

  He drew his cloak about him and lifted the hood. “I won’t do anything to endanger you. I swear.”

  He joined Somers at the door.

  “I have one last thing for you. And if you can, I would have it back when this is over, because it doesn’t belong to me.” He held out his hand and Susanna extended hers. Something heavy dropped onto her palm. Somers closed her fingers around it.

  “As a last resort,” he whispered, and then closed the door.

  Susanna opened her hand and gasped. She was holding a worked piece of jewelry, masculine and ornate.

  Somers had stolen her the King’s ring.

  * * *

  Kilburne had invited her to dinner, coming to the door so soon after Somers and Eric left, Susanna had stuttered her way through her acceptance, sure he was there to say they had both been taken to the dungeons.

  Harry accompanied her, standing behind her at the table like one of the King’s sewers, ready to respond to her slightest wish.

  As she sat opposite Kilburne, the King’s ring lay heavy in the hem of her sleeve. It was the only place she’d had time to put it.

  She could not wear it, yet. But where it was, she could lay hands on it in a moment. And if Wolsey came for her, a moment might be all she would have.

  “You seem nervous, my lady.” Kilburne leaned back as the last dishes were taken away.

  Susanna pushed an unused spoon to one side. “I do not trust the calm, Captain.” She sipped his fine wine.

  He nodded. “I do not trust it, either.” He cupped his goblet with both hands. “I have word I must take you again to the prince. The King is anxious that you complete his portrait as soon as possible.”

  Susanna lifted her brows. She had done nothing but work on Fitzroy’s portrait since she’d returned from Durham House. “Is there an occasion for which he wants it?”

  Kilburne looked uncomfortable, as if he had been given too much information. Been drawn deeper into this than he wanted. “Henry Fitzroy will be officially presented to the Order of the Garter on the 7th of June.” He tapped the table with his fingers. “The King would like to have it by then.”

  Susanna did not flinch. She’d been hearing unreasonable demands from royalty since she could first understand her father’s occupation.

  “I could have a charcoal by the 7th, but then I would have to stop work on the painting.” She rested her chin in her hand.

  He seemed disconcerted by her calm. “He wants a painting, not a sketch. Like the one you had done of the princess. He would present it at the meeting for all to see.”

  She didn’t like it. It felt as though he would replace one child with the other. But who was she to voice that opinion?

  “Then I had better be back to work.” She stood. “Let us hope the Cardinal does not interfere with the schedule by dragging me to the White Tower.”

  Kilburne’s chair scraped back, and he made no comment to that.

  Harry preceded her to the door and opened it, making sure the passage was clear. Kilburne lifted a brow at his caution, but said nothing.

  He could not call him to account for what amounted to an insult on Kilburne’s security. He knew as well as they, they had reason to worry.

  He walked with them to the front hall.

  “Thank you, and good night.” Susanna curtsied and Kilburne bowed before going to the huge double doors leading out and opening one side.

  “It was my pleasure, Mistress. I will take you and one of your servants to Durham tomorrow afternoon again.”

  If Wolsey had his way, that wouldn’t happen, but Susanna smiled and watched him step out into the night to check on his men.

  After a moment, she and Harry heard his key turn in the lock. They were truly imprisoned, now.

  She felt again, nervously, for Somers’ gift.

  How had he taken the King’s ring? It swung in her sleeve, and she crossed her arms in front of her to hide that it pulled the fabric a little.

  “What was that? That Somers gave you.”

  Harry waited for her at the foot of the stairs, and she took the arm he held out. “The King’s ring.”

  He stopped, the movement jerking her back. “How do you know?”

  “I’ve seen it once before. The King gave it to Simon, a while ago, and he showed it to me.”

  “Do you think Somers stole it?”

  Susanna urged him up the stairs. “What else can I think?”

  “Why does he help you?” A frown etched deep in Harry’s forehead. “I do not like that we know nothing of his motives. He could be doing this for sport.”

  “I don’t know why he does it. But it is not for sport. He risks a charge of theft if I use this ring unwisely. If I use it at all. Wolsey will have to let me go if I invoke its powers, and he will surely inform the King I had it in my possession.” She kept her voice soft, they were still in the open, although they had reached the top of the stairs now, and the door to her room was ahead. “I think it may be as simple as Will Somers likes me.”

  “Theft from the King means death. He’s risked his life, if you’re right.”

  Susanna shrugged. “Perhaps there are not many people he likes?”

>   They were in the last stretch of passageway, walking in near total darkness. A wall lantern shone from the top of the stairs behind them, but the one between the stairs and her door had gone out, and there was no light beyond to the stairs up the Bell Tower.

  Harry put an arm out in front of her, forcing her to stop, and put a finger to his lips. Then he pointed.

  Susanna saw a faint glow just beneath the door to her rooms, a slice of gold in the darkness.

  Someone was in there.

  Harry drew his knife from his boot, and she sensed him gathering himself, ready to leap.

  He slammed open the door with a cry, knife raised, and came to a stumbling halt.

  Susanna took a step in after him, hesitant but curious.

  Parker’s eyes, warm and creased at the corners, glittered at her in the light of the candle he’d placed on the table.

  “How . . .” She put a hand against the door post to steady herself.

  He stood and she flung herself across the room to him, each breath a tight, painful joy.

  “I had to come.” He whispered the words into her hair. “I can’t seem to sleep if you aren’t with me.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  They think it is an evidence of true wisdom for a man to pursue his own advantage as far as the laws allow it, they account it piety to prefer the public good to one’s private concerns, but they think it unjust for a man to seek for pleasure by snatching another man’s pleasures from him;

  Utopia by Thomas More (translated by H. Morley)

  “Gertrude Courtenay and Will Somers have been here today?” Parker knew his mouth was agape, but he could not help it.

  “We have been quite popular.” Harry slid another log on the fire, and then came to sit at the table with them.

  Susanna held Parker’s hand in a vice grip, and Parker drummed the fingers of the other on the table. “I saw Somers follow Wolsey today. They had both vanished by the time I was able to go after them.”

  “Do you think Somers speaks true? That Wolsey plans to force Kilburne to hand Susanna over for questioning?” Harry lifted a cup of mead to his lips and set it down beside his plate. Neither he, nor Parker, had eaten, and he had uncovered the tray of dishes he’d gathered earlier for dinner; game pie, bread, cheese and apples.