Mark Chadbourn - The Silver Skull

"Your Armada has floundered before."

"Not this time," Philip said sharply. In that instant, Will could see the strain the king was under: victory would cement Spain's reputation and empire for all time; defeat would deal a blow from which he might not recover. Realising he had revealed too much, Philip sniffed and said, "I wished to see what kind of man England thought was the best it could offer in opposition to my plans. I am not impressed. If you are the best, this business is already concluded."

Philip spun on his heel and marched to the door, coming to a slow halt when Will said, "You pray to God, but a devil whispers in your ear."

Uneasily, the king turned and fixed a warning eye on Will.

"Do her kisses ease your conscience?" Will pressed. "Do her honeyed words cause blindness to the choices you make?"

"Beat him," Philip said to the guards. "Severely."

"You fail to understand," Will continued. "You think you have taken me prisoner. But I am exactly where I wish to be."

A shadow crossed Philip's face when he saw Will's expression and he hurried from the room.

CHAPTER 39

n the lee of a heap of ancient mine-workings on the edge of the spoiled land around El Escorial, Launceston, Carpenter, and Mayhew waited. Every now and then they scrambled over the blackened rocks to peer at the stone fortress through the yellowing grass and weeds. The sky was aflame with the end of the day, scarlet and gold and orange.

"Do you think Will still lives?" Mayhew had a feverish air that had only grown worse as they made their way to the plateau from the Madrid road. His knuckles were red and raw from where he had worried at them.

Balancing his throwing knife on the tip of his finger, Carpenter did all he could to show he really didn't care what the answer was. "Perhaps," he said.

"Then why should we risk our own lives on a maybe?" Mayhew added desperately.

"Because it is what we do." Launceston studied the guards at the gates, and those patrolling around the walls. More came and went on the road winding around the small village that was now dwarfed by the sprawling complex. There was no visible way through the defences.

Mayhew rested his head on his knees with a resigned sigh. They were all exhausted after tracking the carriage that had brought Will from Seville to El Escorial. But his plan had worked so far. As they had agreed on the journey from Cadiz, sooner or later Will would allow the Enemy to take him so they would deliver him to Grace for his punishment, and they were to follow at a distance. Hidden by the storm, Launceston had kept watch on al-Rahman's shop, and had followed Will and his pursuers to the cathedral. He and the others were waiting when Will was brought out unconscious.

"He took a great risk. They could have killed him the moment they captured him," Mayhew said.

"Will knows the Enemy well," Launceston replied without taking his gaze off the palace. "Simple death does not provide enough revenge for them. Pain in the heart and mind is their preferred response to an act against them, and they had already told him he would be brought to his friend, Grace, to watch her suffer at his own slow torture and death. They would not walk away from such an exquisite response."

"Exquisite?" Mayhew repeated, unsettled.

"Swyfte is a gambler. Risks filled his plan, as they always have, and it is others who pay the price," Carpenter said bitterly. "We could have lost the Silver Skull if it had gone west to a port. While gaining his friend, we may have lost the battle and the war."

"He knew what he was doing," Launceston said distractedly. "The girl would have been held at the centre of the Enemy's plans. And where else would the Skull have gone before it was used?"

"They could already have tortured him," Mayhew continued. "Cut bits off him. He might be useless to us. He may not even be able to walk."

"Then we leave him and finish the important business-the girl and the Skull," Carpenter said.

"Do you hate him so much?" Mayhew asked.

"He left me for dead." The edge in Carpenter's voice revealed his raw emotions, even after so much time had passed. "The tsar's soldiers found me, and their allies ..." He spat. "... and they called off the beast that was tearing me apart. If Swyfte had waited, he could have rescued me and I would not have had to suffer all those months of ... of. .." He swallowed, waved the remainder of the sentence away with the back of his hand.

"You are a child," Launceston said baldly.

Carpenter was so taken aback by the insult, he could only gape.

"Or a dog," Launceston continued, not caring what Carpenter's response might be. "You whine and whine. `Poor me, I have been so mistreated.' But you live, do you not? You survive. You are stronger."

"You do not know what deprivations I suffered at the hands of the tsar's torturers," Carpenter snapped.

"Whine and whine," Launceston continued. "You think you are the only one to suffer? To experience pain in the line of our work?"

Carpenter thrust his knife towards Launceston, but the earl only gave it the merest attention before returning his attention to the guards swarming around the palace. "Master Swyfte remained true to his work. He completed his business, as directed, and England is better for it."

"Is it?" Carpenter growled. "I have seen no sign of the object we retrieved since the day Swyfte brought it back. And I paid for it with my agonies!"

Launceston shrugged. "He was not distracted by emotions. There are bigger things here than your petty feelings. Child."

Trembling with emotion, Carpenter could barely hold the knife still, but Launceston no longer gave it, or Carpenter, even a cursory glance. Carpenter slumped back against the rocks and ran his still shaking hands through his hair, casting brief murderous glances towards Launceston.

"You trouble me, Carpenter," Launceston continued. "If you give in to your emotions so, it makes me wonder how far you will go to gain revenge to soothe your poor, hurt feelings."

"What are you saying?" Carpenter snapped.

"Perhaps you would even go so far as to ally with the Enemy to see Master Swyfte paid back in full."

Barely had Carpenter begun the lunge with his knife when Launceston's own knife was at his throat.

"Stop now!" Mayhew interjected. "If we cannot trust each other, we will forfeit our own lives when we are in the thick of it. We must protect each other's backs."

Slowly, Carpenter relented, although his emotions barely subsided.

"You have never given in to your emotions?" Mayhew said to Launceston.

"No." The earl's face became more ghastly as the shadows lengthened.

Mayhew eyed him curiously. "You speak little about your past. We have all been touched by misery, or by the hand of the Enemy. Why have you given yourself to this business?"

"Sport," Launceston replied.

"Sport?"

"Yes, I like to kill our Enemies."

They sat in silence until night had fallen.

Finally Launceston prised himself from the top of the spoil-heap and said simply, "It is time."

Across the desolate landscape they moved, hoods pulled down to hide their faces. As they neared El Escorial, Launceston motioned for them to use more caution. The guards watched the approach to the palace and continued to patrol the perimeter. Others were stationed in the vast formal gardens.

"Impregnable, they say," Launceston mused.

"I do not know who I fear for the most," Mayhew said. "Us trying to get in, or Swyfte trying to get out."

Launceston levelled his knife at the guards. "I fear for them."

CHAPTER 40

till raw from his beating earlier, Will was dragged through the palace by the guards. From a courtyard open to the moonless sky, and under one of several porticos, he eventually arrived at statues of David and Solomon flanking the entrance to the basilica, the central point of the whole complex. Philip waited for him there, and motioned for the guards to take him in.

"A fine place for torture." Will admired the huge dome overhead and the granite simplicity of the basilica's interior, which perfectly reflected Philip's character.

Still dressed in mourning black, Don Alanzo waited by one of the Doric columns with Grace beside him. She met Will's eyes once, then looked away.

"There will be no torture here," Philip said.

"No physical torture," Don Alanzo added, bowing apologetically when the king glared at him.

Philip motioned for the guards to wait outside. They were reluctant to leave their monarch alone with a potential assassin, but they checked Will's bonds one more time and whispered threats in his ear before departing.

Once the door to the basilica was closed, Malantha appeared from behind one of the columns. Will had the briefest flash of chalky skin and her implacable gaze before she unveiled her potent sexuality, at odds with the sanctified surroundings.

"I am starting to believe you are a guilty secret," Will said. As she levelled her icy, unblinking stare at him, Will had the impression she was imagining slowly opening up his body.

Shifting uncomfortably, the king quickly changed the subject. "Today saw the funeral of Don Alanzo's father. A great man, brought low by a dog."

Will glanced over at Don Alanzo, whose hateful glare never left Will's face. "You will not believe me, but I offer my condolences again, in good faith," Will said.

"My sister refused to come to the funeral," Don Alanzo said. "She blames me for our father's death. She will have nothing more to do with me, she says, and has ensured I will be refused entry to her convent. Now you have taken two people from me. You will pay for both of them." He bowed curtly to Malantha, who gave a brief, dismissive nod in return. "Our allies ... your Enemies ... are correct. Sometimes death is not enough to right a wrong. Pain must be inflicted in the heart, and the mind, and on the soul."

Will looked to Grace. "Do you see now what you stand with? Do not trust them, Grace."

Striding forwards, Don Alanzo struck Will forcefully across the face with his leather gauntlet. Blood bloomed on his lip.

"Please do not hurt him," Grace begged. "I will do anything."

"Of course you will," Malantha said.

"I have brought you here," Philip said to Grace, "under the eyes of God, so you will know there is no treachery in my words when I make this offer: help us and we will spare your friend's life."

"No!" Will shouted. "Do not believe them!"

Don Alanzo struck him again.

"You vow, before God?" Grace said.

"I so vow."

"The Unseelie Court will not allow it," Will spat. "He is so under their spell that even the threat of damnation will not deter him."

This time Don Alanzo knocked Will to the floor.

"Please," Grace sobbed, wringing her hands.

"I so vow!" Philip said firmly.

"I will do anything you ask. But please ... please ... do not hurt him anymore."

Philip nodded to Don Alanzo, who guided Grace to the door as Will struggled to his feet. By the time he had shaken off the effect of the blow, Grace had gone.

"And so the torture begins," Malantha said.

"And you save my life?" Will sneered, spitting a mouthful of blood.

"Once she has done her duty, we will allow you to live," Malantha replied, "although you will be in no state to enjoy it. We will ensure your friend gets to see how you work. Inside. In your mind, when you scream and cry and beg for us to take her life instead. And then you will know she must live on with the knowledge of what she saw, and it will never leave her." She raised her arms in a flamboyant request for applause. "My brother proposed your death, I know, but he lacks my assured touch in these matters."