The Alchemist of Souls (Night's Masque, #1)(90)

On the other hand, she was not sure how far she could trust Master Catlyn. It pained her to think how naive she had been, trusting a man she had known only a few weeks. What if Master Dunfell was right, and Catlyn was in collusion with Walsingham and the shadowy enemies of the ambassador? Was it too late to apologise to the duke's secretary and fulfil her abandoned mission? She sighed, letting her feet lead her towards London Bridge. After that, she did not know which way to go. East to the Tower, or west, to Suffolk House?

After what felt like an interminable wait but was probably less than an hour, Mal heard Walsingham's slow footsteps on the outer stair. He wished this had not been necessary, but if the ambassador's enemies wished to get to him by substituting one twin for the other, they could do that much more easily if Mal left the Tower.

"Master Secretary." He bowed low as Walsingham entered.

"Catlyn. I hope this is important."

"Rest assured, sir, I would not have asked you to come here if there were any alternative."

Walsingham raised an eyebrow in disbelief, but allowed himself to be shown to the seat at the head of the table. Mal paced back and forth, trying to get his thoughts in order.

"Well?" Walsingham said.

"I have reason to believe someone is plotting against the ambassador." There, it was said.

"Tell me something I do not know," the spymaster replied.

"You know who is behind this plot?"

"Of which plot do we speak?"

"Which plot?"

"Master Catlyn, my intelligencers bring me news of plots daily. Spare an old man's memory and tell me which one has you so concerned you must drag me from my supper."

Mal apologised, and told Walsingham everything Hendricks had told him, and as much of Sandy's history as he thought necessary.

"And it never occurred to you to tell me you had a twin brother?" Walsingham asked, when Mal's account was over.

"No, sir. He is – was locked up in Bedlam, and often so mazed in his wits that I cannot fathom how he could be of use to anyone."

"But he does have spells of lucidity."

"Yes, sir."

Walsingham nodded. "That might be enough to give a desperate man hope."

Mal hung his head. His own hopes had been raised – and dashed – so many times in the past nine years.

"Well, there is only one thing for it," Walsingham said at last. "The ambassador must have a new bodyguard."

"Sir?"

"If you are no longer guarding him, then they cannot use your brother as a false replacement. We will have to make the dismissal public, of course, to the damage of your reputation, but…"

"No." He had wanted release from this job, but not at such a price. "Sir, you cannot."

"Do you presume to tell me my business?"

"They will kill my brother the moment he ceases to have any usefulness."

"Alas, I fear you are correct."

"But–" Mal stared at the Queen's secretary. "He's my brother."

"We must all make sacrifices in the name of our Queen and country, Master Catlyn."

Mal shook his head, desperately trying to come up with a way out of this.

"Surely you want to know who is behind this?" he asked Walsingham.

"My agents will look into it, of course."

"And what will they find? One of the abductors is already dead, the second was no doubt using a false name, and the third…" Mal hesitated. Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord. No, he would not return betrayal in kind. That crime was on Ned's conscience alone. "I swear on my honour he knows nothing more than he has already told."

"What do you suggest?"

Mal took a deep breath. "A two-pronged attack. First, hold the hearing into the deaths of Mistress Faulkner and her killer as soon as possible, and have Ned Faulkner acquitted and released."

"You think to use him as bait?"

"This Kemp fellow wanted him dead. He may try it himself this time."

"And I thought you were merely asking a favour for a friend," Walsingham said, smiling thinly.

"The favour I ask," Mal said, "is that your agents catch Kemp before he kills Ned."

"I will instruct them to do their best."

Mal inclined his head in thanks. He was putting Ned in terrible danger, he knew, but it was better than allowing him to be tortured for information he did not have.

"Second, let me continue in my duties. I will find an opportunity to expose myself to the plotters, that they may be drawn out. The men who took my brother were mere pawns, I am certain. But we may capture a rook, or even a king, if we are patient."

"And if they succeed?"

"We must bring the ambassador into our plan. Each time I leave his presence and return, I must give some secret word or sign to prove who I am. If the sign be not given, his guards will arrest me, or rather, my brother."

"You hazard much," Walsingham said. "If these plotters lay their hands on you, they may kill you."

"They will most certainly kill my brother if I do not try this."

"Very well. I will leave it to you to inform the ambassador of his part in this, and to arrange your watchword."