The Alchemist of Souls (Night's Masque, #1)(139)

He looked through the curtains towards the river. Crowds lined the banks, perhaps expecting some sudden and dramatic conflict between skraylings and royal guards. With any luck they would be disappointed. The shouted exchange had ended better than he feared, but he was not out of the woods yet. Kiiren's negotiations might fail. No, best not to invite defeat by thinking about it. He glanced across at his brother. Sandy sat cross-legged on the cushions, his expression as inscrutable as any skrayling. Had Erishen taken him over completely?

He was about to ask Hendricks to fetch the ambassador when Kiiren appeared in the curtained doorway.

"I have done my best," the skrayling said. "Now we wait."

"You have a plan?" Mal asked.

"I am hoping you have one," Kiiren replied. "I have negotiated many trade treaties, with my own people and with humans of lands beyond ours, but you Christians think very strangely. I do not know what will sway your prince to our cause."

Mal pondered for a moment. "He is his father's son, and his mother's also. Ambitious, yes, but cautious. He will not easily set aside this alliance, not if Walsingham has anything to do with it."

"Ah yes, your friend Walsingham. But he is only one man. How many sit on Privy Council? Six? Seven?"

"Eight at least, including the prince. But Effingham may be on our side. Without the skraylings on Sark, the Narrow Sea will no longer be safe for our ships, nor the Atlantic. The Lord High Admiral could lose many vessels to the Spanish."

"Even so, that is only two. And your prince cannot set aside the law. If you killed a man–"

"Begging your pardons, sirs," Hendricks put in. "Are we certain that is true?"

They both looked at her.

"You wounded Grey," she went on. "But Suffolk's physician is very good, by your own account. He may not be dead yet, nor his father neither."

"There is still the assault to answer," Mal countered.

"But not, perhaps, murder. Not yet."

"Your friend sees truly," Kiiren said. "If Suffolk and his son both live, perhaps prince will be merciful."

Mal shook his head. "I like not these odds."

"But it is worth a try, sir, is it not?" Hendricks gazed up at him earnestly.

"I will send message to our best physicians, to attend upon Suffolk," Kiiren said.

"No."

They both looked at Mal.

"Why not?" Hendricks asked.

"Because if either of them dies under the skraylings' care, all is lost. They will say the ambassador sent them to finish what we started."

"So what do we do?"

"We must trust to the skills of Doctor Renardi," Mal said. "And pray."

Kiiren clicked his tongue. "Pray if you wish, but I will talk to prince."

"No, there is no time, not if we wish to move whilst the Greys still live." If they live. "You must hand me over now, and I will take my chances."

Hendricks turned pale and opened her mouth to protest, but he squeezed her hand in reassurance and warning.

"Tell them," he went on, "tell them you will release me into the custody of Sir Francis Walsingham and none other."

"You trust Walsingham?" Kiiren asked.

"As much as any man. If he is an ally of Suffolk, he dissembles very well, and plays a game of deceits that would put a Southwark card shark to shame."

"Very well." Kiiren lowered his voice. "I must take your brother to our camp. It is time to reveal what is done here."

"You were very keen to keep it a secret, once," Mal said.

Kiiren nodded. "It is forbidden for us to take human form. But now I know Erishen did not do this willingly, I think perhaps he may be forgiven."

"And my friends?"

"They must go home. I cannot allow them into camp." Seeing Mal's frown, he added, "I can have them escorted to guild house, if you wish, and guarded by my own men."

"Thank you, sir. It would ease my mind greatly." He smiled at Hendricks, and she attempted to smile back, not very successfully.

Kiiren went out onto the deck to await the captain's return. Hendricks lifted Mal's hand and pressed his knuckles to her cheek, closing her eyes against the tears beginning to form.

"Sssh," he murmured, and pulled her closer with his good arm.

He kissed the top of her head chastely. Her hair smelt of smoke. Was it only yesterday that they had escaped the fire together? And now they had outrun death a second time, only to part after all. She would be much safer without him, that was for certain. Besides, what could he offer a woman? He had no property or fortune, no means to support a family. And to cap it all, he had made an enemy of the Prince of Wales. At this rate he would be lucky to get out of England alive.

Looking up he saw Ned standing at the curtained entrance, staring at them, and realised what this must look like. He almost pushed Hendricks away, but checked himself. He owed Ned nothing. Let the wretch think what he liked, at least for now. It was up to the girl to tell the others, if and when she was ready.

At last all was arranged, and there was nothing left but to make his farewells. He shook hands with Gabriel and Ned. The latter winked at him, irrepressible as always. Last of all he turned to Hendricks. After a moment's hesitation she slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him briefly, then retreated in embarrassment.