Mark Chadbourn - The Silver Skull Страница 21

As they drove up through the flue system, Will looked down between his boots and glimpsed the glint of the dog's teeth as it snapped only a few feet below him. Finding near-invisible footholds, it climbed with relatively little purchase on the blackened stone, so that it almost appeared to be gliding upwards.

"What is happening?" Kintour cried. The edge in his voice grew more intense as he surfaced from the spell.

Finally, they broke out into the chill night. Disoriented, Kintour almost pitched off the roof until Will burst from the chimney and caught hold of his shirt. The dog wriggled up the final few feet, snapping its jaws like a gamekeeper's trap.

"Along the roofs," Will urged. "We can be away from here before-"

"No!" Kintour clutched his head as though in pain, his legs buckling. Will held on to him tightly as his feet slipped on the tiles. "I ... I remember now," Kintour stuttered.

Clambering fully from the chimney, Will attempted to guide Kintour along the roof's pitch. "Do not look down," Will said. "Keep your eyes on my face." The fingers of the gusting wind tugged at them. At their backs, the dog's snarling echoed from the chimney.

Kintour looked up at Will with an expression of devastation. "They told me ... I could never ..."

There was a faint poof and Kintour burst into silvery-grey dust. In shock, Will grasped for the glittering power, but it drained through his fingers, was caught on the night wind, and blew out across the city. Within a second, where a man had stood, there was nothing.

For a second, Will was rooted, aghast. His incomprehension at Kintour's sudden fate was eventually supplanted by the certain knowledge that the Enemy-the unholy, Unseelie Court-were capable of any atrocity. He was shocked back into the moment by the dog thrusting its head out of the chimney. Eyes glaring, it thrashed savagely as it attempted to extricate itself.

Will threw himself rapidly along the pitch of the roof as he heard the dog crash onto the tiles, slipping and scrabbling until it found purchase and balance. Caution was no longer an option-the dog's speed and strength would punish even the slightest hesitation-but at the speed he was travelling, one misstep meant certain death.

At a wynd, Will threw himself across the gap without slowing his pace. Tiles flew out into the void under his heels. He half slipped, caught himself on the brink of careering down the roof and over the edge to the cobbles far below, and almost fell the other way as his weight shifted. The dog thundered along the roof behind him.

When he landed on the roof of the haphazard construction he had passed through earlier that night, it swayed beneath his feet. A notion struck him. Casting an eye towards the dog bounding along the roofs and the Hunter loping with supernatural ease in its wake, he hammered a foot through the tiles and yelled at the two occupants he spied inside to vacate their rooms.

At the edge of the next roof, he braced his back against a chimney and pressed his feet into the shuddering roof he had vacated. After a second, it began to move.

The dog slammed onto the roof, only feet away from him. It was too late to escape now. Grunting, he drove all his strength into his feet. The roof shifted away from him, gathering speed as it moved, and with a lurch and a loud rending, it tore free from its slipshod moorings and slid off the top of the building. Frantically paddling to keep its balance, the dog continued to snap savagely, even as it fell away with the roof, over the edge and down. The cries that rose up from the ragged remnants of the tenements' lower floors were drowned out by the explosive boom of the entire floor smashing into the street.

Feet kicking, Will dragged himself up onto the next roof. As he caught his breath, he looked back to see the Hunter standing on the far side of the newly formed gulf, watching him with a cold, malicious eye, the gaping wound on his cheek visible in the moonlight. Will had no doubt that the dog had survived the fall, but it felt like a small victory and a marker for what he would do the next time he encountered the Hunter.

With a sardonic salute to his adversary, he continued along the roofs, filled with conflicting emotions, but sensing he had come a step closer to stopping the Enemy's plans.

CHAPTER 22

ill made it back to Reidheid's house on Cowgate within twenty minutes, taking care to scan every street and wynd he passed for the Enemy who would soon be flooding in pursuit.

"You have protection here?" Will asked as he bounded over the threshold when Reidheid opened the door.

Reidheid indicated the trail of salt and herbs across the doorway. "Every entrance to this house is defended. The Enemy will never enter. It is a safe haven."

"That is reassuring. I fear at this moment that the Enemy may well be consumed with a desire to see the inside of your house."

"Your mission was a success?" Reidheid guided Will into the drawing room, where Nathaniel and Meg sat in deep, quiet conversation. They left quickly at Reidheid's gesture.

"The Silver Skull is here in Edinburgh, as we presumed. Unfortunately, the time was not right to bring it back with me, but it is clear the Enemy is not ready to use the destructive force it carries with it. They need the Shield to complete their plan, and they have not yet located it."

"And do you know what this plan is?" Reidheid asked.

"Not yet. But now I have my own plan."

Reidheid smiled broadly. "Of course. I would expect no less from the great Will Swyfte! Could you enlighten me?"

"I am going to find the Shield myself."

Reidheid's eyes narrowed as he tried to ascertain if Will was serious. "But the Enemy have been searching for the Shield without any result."

Will shrugged. "But I am not the Enemy. And there are places I can go where they cannot. Do you know a man by the name of Kintour, a keeper of the records at the palace?"

Reidheid nodded. "He has been missing for a long time ... since the days of Mary. Many felt he was loyal to the queen and fled when she fell from grace. That, or dead."

"He is dead now, another thing for which the Enemy must pay." From his pocket, Will withdrew the parchment Kintour had given him. He studied the scrawled writing. "He had found a guide to the whereabouts of the Shield, but had not yet broken the cipher."

"Oh? May I see?"

"Perhaps later. You have a library? With books pertaining to Edinburgh and the palace?"

"Of course," Reidheid said. "I have many books. Come."

Reidheid led Will through the house to a large library at the rear. The smell of great age lay across the shelves of leather-bound books. Reidheid indicated the volumes on local history and left Will to study them at a table by the light of a candle.

After several hours, when the bright morning light flooded the room, Will had become so engrossed in his work he didn't notice Nathaniel enter until a goblet of wine was placed before him.

"Thank you, Nat. You are thoughtful, as ever," Will said without looking up. "I see you have found a friend in the beautiful Meg."

"It is pleasant to speak with someone who is untarnished by this business of ours," Nathaniel replied. "She is entertaining and witty. A novelty," he added pointedly.

Will allowed himself a small, unseen smile. "Then enjoy yourself, Nat. God knows there are few entertaining distractions in this work."

His curiosity getting the better of him, Nathaniel leaned over Will's shoulder to examine the book he was reading. "It is also a novelty to see you with an open tome rather than a woman in your lap and a goblet in your hand. Which is why I brought you that drink, to right a world that has gone mad. What do you read?"

"The object of our search and the key to our success in defeating our Enemy is hidden at the Palace of Holyroodhouse. A ciphered text left by the Templar Knights points to its location."

"The Templar Knights? Their job was to protect good Christians in a dangerous world. What do they have to do with this?"

"There was more to the Knights than the world knows," Will mused while turning the pages. "As there is more to everything than the world knows."

Nathaniel picked up the parchment. "This is the cipher? The protection lies where the heart of truth beats, beneath the Holy Rood where the martyr stands in black and white." He considered the words for a moment and then suggested, "Under a statue of a martyr in the palace?"

"A good attempt, Nat." Pushing his chair back, Will swung a boot onto the table and wiped a bleary eye. "Enlightenment might strike you if you had taken the time to read The Matter of Olde English by Williams, a dour fellow from Cambridge. I presume you have a copy on your bedside table?"

Sighing, Nathaniel motioned for Will to continue.

"If you had, then you would know of heorot, our ancestors' word for deer, which the rough-tongued people of England pronounced hart. H-a-r-t."

"Hart ... heart," Nathaniel mused. "Ah, I see. We search for the deer of truth, who bounds through the glades of faith ... or is it charity? ... not far from the fields of hope. In the hunting grounds behind the palace, I presume."

"Why, Nat, in your sadly familiar mockery you come close to striking the nail upon the head."

"Is that a copy of The Matter of Olde English I spy before you?"

As Nathaniel leaned forwards, Will moved the book to the other side of the table. "Concentrate, Nat! I am here to add to your poor education. Another word for `hart' is `stag.' I read this morning of the early days of the palace, and more importantly of the abbey that stands beside it. It was built for the Augustinians by King David in 1128, guided, I was told earlier this night, by the Templar Knights. The location was precise, and chosen by King David following a vision he had of a white stag with the cross lodged between its antlers-the cross, or the Holy Rood, from which the palace gets its name."

"So the thing for which you search-"

"A Shield, or the protection."

11 -it is at the abbey, not the palace."

"Correct. The Enemy presumed the reference to the Holy Rood meant the Shield was beneath the palace."

"And the martyr in black and white?"

"Still eludes me. But we have a start. And when we are entertained by the king this evening, we shall investigate further."

CHAPTER 23

s the sun set, the carriages rolled down the cobbles of the mile-long avenues that stretched from the castle to the Palace of Holyroodhouse, each one awash with peacock feathers, pearly beads, and gold banners. Inside were the Scottish aristocracy in their finest clothes, the ambassadors, and the senior clergy who had amassed great fortunes to match their indulgent lifestyles.

From the Cowgate house, Will, Nathaniel, Reidheid, and his daughter travelled together in a less extravagant carriage. Though it was protected, Will kept a close watch along the route for any sign of the Enemy.

"This will be a fine night," Meg said. Her eyes shone when they fell on Nathaniel. "The king's festivities are lavish. I think he likes to take the opportunity to rebel against the preachings of the church."

"Yet still no queen," Nathaniel noted. "And he is ... twenty-two?"

Eyeing Nathaniel askance, Reidheid added with a strained note, "The king prefers the company of males. His advisors have struggled to find a suitable mate, but at least the damnable Earl of Lennox no longer exerts his influence over James."

"You know the court well," Will noted, "and you have some influence to gain an invite for a well-known English spy."

"Not influence enough. The king is suspicious of all beyond his immediate circle. The threats that preceded the forcible removal of Lennox from the king's company have made him wary of all. Indeed, he has moved to exert control over his lords. Yet I have been informed that the king was very keen to have you present."

Will raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"He has some concerns over mutual enemies. He is fearful of many things."

Will and Reidheid exchanged a glance while Meg and Nathaniel smiled at each other, oblivious. The carriage rattled past the last of Edinburgh's houses and the crowd of local people who had gathered to watch, to the wild, green land at the foot of the hills that surrounded the palace. The extensive gardens that James had remodelled when he took the throne overflowed with colourful blooms and the last strains of the day's bird-song filled the air. It was a far cry from the oppressive darkness of the city, and the filth and the crime. Yet the wilderness that stretched from the hunting grounds beyond the palace was disturbing in its own way, for it belonged to the Unseelie Court, and particularly after dark. To Will's eyes, the palace was an island extending into Enemy territory.

The building was much smaller than the Palace of Whitehall, though still imposing with its pale stone and red-tiled roof, towers and spires, and soaring diamond-paned windows that flooded the interior with light. Just behind it, to the south side, Will spied the solid bulk of the abbey, a brooding presence beside the bright palace.

There was already a queue of carriages passing through the gate in the wall to drop off the nobility under the protective arches of the large stone gatehouse on the west side of the palace. Once they had stepped down from their carriage to be greeted by a clutch of the king's busy but silent servants, Reidheid led Will, Nathaniel, and Meg through the gates to the quadrangle, a grassy area surrounded by the three-storey palace buildings, and from there to the State Rooms where the guests were gathered.

The court was big, almost six hundred people, swelled by the other guests, and the perfumed atmosphere was abuzz with conversation. Musicians played a masque specially composed for the occasion, with lutes, both bass and mean, a bandora, a double sackbut, a harpsichord, and several violins.

As Reidheid introduced Will around the room, the young wife of the Earl of Angus broke off from her conversation to be presented to Will. She looked him in the eye flirtatiously and smiled. "I have heard tell of your exploits, Master Swyfte, even here in Edinburgh, and I would know if they are true."

Will bowed and kissed her hand. "If all the stories about me were true, my Lady, I would be worn down upon my deathbed."

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?"