Shadow of Night (52 page)

“Not yet, no.” Matthew’s eyes went to the door. “Is the emperor in?”

“Yes. He is looking at a new painting by Master Spranger. It is very large and . . . ah, detailed.”

“Another picture of Venus,” Strada said with a sniff.

“This Venus looks rather like your sister, sir.” Hájek smiled.

“Ist das Matthäus höre ich?”
said a nasal voice from the far end of the room. Everyone turned and swept into deep bows. I curtsied automatically. It was going to be a challenge to follow the conversation. I had expected Rudolf to speak Latin, not German.
“Und Sie das Buch und die Hexe gebracht, ich verstehe. Und die norwegische Wolf.”

Rudolf was a small man with a disproportionately long chin and a pronounced underbite. The full, fleshy lips of the Hapsburg family exaggerated the prominence of the lower half of his face, although this was somewhat balanced by his pale, protruding eyes and thick, flattened nose. Years of good living and fine drink had given him a portly profile, but his legs remained thin and spindly. He tottered toward us on high-heeled red shoes ornamented with gold stamps.

“I brought my wife, Your Majesty, as you commanded,” Matthew said, placing a slight emphasis on the word “
wife
.” Gallowglass translated Matthew’s English into flawless German, as if my husband didn’t know the language—which I knew he did, after traveling with him from Hamburg to Wittenberg to Prague by sled.

“Y su talento para los juegos también,”
Rudolf said, switching effortlessly into Spanish as though that might convince Matthew to converse with him directly. He studied me slowly, lingering over the curves of my body with a thoroughness that made me long for a shower.
“Es una lástima que se casó en absoluto, pero aún más lamentable que ella está casada con usted.”

“Very regrettable, Majesty,” Matthew said sharply, sticking resolutely to English. “But I assure you we are thoroughly wed. My father insisted upon it. So did the lady.” This remark only made Rudolf scrutinize me with greater interest.

Gallowglass took mercy on me and thumped the book onto the table.
“Das Buch.”

That got their attention. Strada unwrapped it while Hájek and Rudolf speculated on just how wonderful this new addition to the imperial library might prove to be. When it was exposed to view, however, the air in the room thickened with disappointment.

“What joke is this?” Rudolf snapped in German.

“I am not sure I take Your Majesty’s meaning,” Matthew replied. He waited for Gallowglass to translate.

“I mean that I already know this book,” Rudolf sputtered.

“That doesn’t surprise me, Your Majesty, since you gave it to John Dee—by mistake, I am told.” Matthew bowed.

“The emperor does not make mistakes!” Strada said, pushing the book away in disgust.

“We all make mistakes, Signor Strada,” Hájek said gently. “I am sure, though, that there is some other explanation as to why this book has been returned to the emperor. Perhaps Dr. Dee uncovered its secrets.”

“It is nothing but childish pictures,” retorted Strada.

“Is that why this picture book found its way into Dr. Dee’s baggage? Did you hope he would be able to understand what you could not?” Matthew’s words were having an adverse effect on Strada, who turned purple. “Perhaps you borrowed Dee’s book, Signor Strada, the one with alchemical pictures from Roger Bacon’s library, in hope that it would help you decipher this one. That is a far more pleasant prospect than imagining you would have tricked poor Dr. Dee out of his treasure. Of course his Majesty could not have known of such an evil business.” Matthew’s smile was chilling.

“And is this book that you say I have the only treasure of mine you wish to take back to England?” Rudolf asked sharply. “Or does your avarice extend to my laboratories?”

“If you mean Edward Kelley, the queen needs some assurance that he is here of his own free will. Nothing more,” Matthew lied. He then took the conversation in a less trying direction. “Do you like your new altarpiece, Your Majesty?”

Matthew had provided the emperor just enough room to regroup—and save face. “The Bosch is exceptional. My uncle will be most aggrieved to learn that I have acquired it.” Rudolf looked around. “Alas, this room is not suitable for its display. I wanted to show it to the Spanish ambassador, but here you cannot get far enough from the painting to view it properly. It is a work that you must come upon slowly, allowing the details to emerge naturally. Come. See where I have put it.”

Matthew and Gallowglass arranged themselves so that Rudolf couldn’t get too close to me as we trooped through the door and into a room that looked like the storeroom for an overstuffed and understaffed museum. Shelves and cabinets held so many shells, books, and fossils that they threatened to topple over. Huge canvases—including the new painting of Venus, which was not simply detailed but openly erotic—were propped up against bronze statues. This must be Rudolf’s famed curiosity cabinet, his room of wonders and marvels.

“Your Majesty needs more space—or fewer specimens,” Matthew commented, grabbing a piece of porcelain to keep it from smashing to the floor.

“I will always find a place for new treasures.” The emperor’s gaze settled on me once more. “I am building four new rooms to hold them all. You can see them working.” He pointed out the window to two towers and the long building that was beginning to connect them to the emperor’s apartments and another new piece of construction opposite. “Until then Ottavio and Tadeáš are cataloging my collection and instructing the architects on what I require. I do not want to move everything into the new
Kunstkammer
only to outgrow it again.”

Rudolf led us through a warren of additional storerooms until we finally arrived at a long gallery with windows on both sides. It was full of light, and after the gloom and dust of the preceding chambers, entering it felt like taking in a lungful of clean air.

The sight in the center of the room brought me up short. Matthew’s altarpiece sat open on a long table covered with thick green felt. The emperor was right: You couldn’t fully appreciate the colors when you stood close to the work.

“It is beautiful, Dona Diana.” Rudolf took advantage of my surprise to grasp my hand. “Notice how what you perceive changes with each step. Only vulgar objects can be seen at once, for they have no mysteries to reveal.”

Strada looked at me with open animosity, Hájek with pity. Matthew was not looking at me at all, but at the emperor.

“Speaking of which, Majesty, might I see Dee’s book?” Matthew’s expression was guileless, but no one in the room was fooled for an instant. The wolf was on the prowl.

“Who knows where it is?” Rudolf had to drop my hand in order to wave vaguely at the rooms we had just left.

“Signor Strada must be neglecting his duties, if such a precious manuscript cannot be found when the emperor requires it,” Matthew said softly.

“Ottavio is very busy at present, with matters of importance!” Rudolf glared at Matthew. “And I do not trust Dr. Dee. Your queen should beware his false promises.”

“But you trust Kelley. Perhaps he knows its whereabouts?”

At this the emperor looked distinctly uneasy. “I do not want Edward disturbed. He is at a very delicate stage in the alchemical work.”

“Prague has many charms, and Diana has been commissioned to purchase some alchemical glassware for the Countess of Pembroke. We will occupy ourselves with that task until Sir Edward is able to receive visitors. Perhaps Signor Strada will be able to find your missing book by then.”

“This Countess of Pembroke is the sister of the queen’s hero, Sir Philip Sidney?” Rudolf asked, his interest caught. When Matthew opened his mouth to answer, Rudolf stopped him with a raised hand. “It is Dona Diana’s business. We will let her answer.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” I responded in Spanish. My pronunciation was atrocious. I hoped that would diminish his interest.

“Charming,” Rudolf murmured.
Damn.
“Very well then, Dona Diana must visit my workshops. I enjoy fulfilling a lady’s wishes.”

It was not clear which lady he meant.

“As for Kelley and the book, we shall see. We shall see.” Rudolf turned back to the triptych. “
‘I will see, be silent, and hear.’
Isn’t that the proverb?”

"D
id you see the werewolf, Frau Roydon? He is the emperor’s gamekeeper, and my neighbor Frau Habermel has heard him howling at night. They say he feeds on the imperial deer running in the Stag Moat.” Frau Huber picked up a cabbage in her gloved hand and gave it a suspicious sniff. Herr Huber had been a merchant at London’s Steelyard, and though she bore no love for the city, she spoke English fluently.

“Pah. There is no werewolf,” Signorina Rossi said, turning her long neck and tutting over the price of the onions. “My Stefano tells me there are many daemons in the palace, however. The bishops at the cathedral wish to exorcise them, but the emperor refuses.” Like Frau Huber, Rossi had spent time in London. Then she had been mistress to an Italian artist who wanted to bring mannerism to the English. Now she was mistress to another Italian artist who wanted to introduce the art of glass cutting to Prague.

“I saw no werewolves or daemons,” I confessed. The women’s faces fell. “But I did see one of the emperor’s new paintings.” I dropped my voice. “It showed Venus. Rising from her bath.” I gave them both significant looks.

In the absence of otherworldly gossip, the perversions of royalty would suffice. Frau Huber drew herself straight.

“Emperor Rudolf needs a wife. A good Austrian woman, who will cook for him.” She condescended to buy a cabbage from the grateful vegetable seller, who had been putting up with her criticisms of his produce for nearly thirty minutes. “Tell us again about the unicorn’s horn. It is supposed to have miraculous curative powers.”

It was the fourth time in two days I’d been asked to account for the marvels among the emperor’s curiosities. News of our admittance to Rudolf’s private apartments preceded our return to the Three Ravens, and the ladies of Malá Strana were lying in wait the next morning, eager for my impressions.

Since then the appearance of imperial messengers at the house, as well as the liveried servants of dozens of Bohemian aristocrats and foreign dignitaries, had roused their curiosity further. Now that Matthew had been received at court, his star was sufficiently secure in the imperial heavens that his old friends were willing to acknowledge his arrival—and ask for his help. Pierre pulled out the ledgers, and soon the Prague branch of the de Clermont bank was open for business, though I saw precious little moneys received and a steady stream of funds flow out to settle overdue accounts with the merchants of Prague’s Old Town.

“You received a package from the emperor,” Matthew told me when I returned from the market. He pointed with his quill at a lumpy sack. “If you open it, Rudolf will expect you to express your thanks personally.”

“What could it be?” I felt the outlines of the object inside. It wasn’t a book.

“Something we’ll regret receiving, I warrant.” Matthew jammed the quill in the inkpot, causing a minor eruption of thick black liquid onto the surface of the desk. “Rudolf is a collector, Diana. And he’s not simply interested in narwhal horns and bezoar stones. He covets people as well as objects and is just as unlikely to part with them once they’re in his possession.”

“Like Kelley,” I said, loosening the parcel’s strings. “But I’m not for sale.”

“We are all for sale.” Matthew’s eyes widened. “Good Christ.”

A two-foot-tall, gold-and-silver statue of the goddess Diana sat between us, naked except for her quiver, riding sidesaddle on the back of a stag with her ankles demurely crossed. A pair of hunting dogs sat at her feet.

Gallowglass whistled. “Well, I’d say the emperor has made his desires known in this case.”

But I was too busy studying the statue to pay much attention. A small key was embedded in the base. I gave it a turn, and the stag took off across the floor. “Look, Matthew. Did you see that?”

“You’re in no danger of losing Uncle’s attention,” Gallowglass assured me.

It was true: Matthew was staring angrily at the statue.

“Whoa, young Jack.” Gallowglass caught Jack by the collar as the boy sped into the room. But Jack was a professional thief, and such delaying tactics were of little use when he smelled something of value. He slid to the floor in a boneless heap, leaving Gallowglass holding the jacket, and sprang after the deer.

“Is it a toy? Is it for me? Why is that lady not wearing any clothes? Isn’t she cold?” The questions poured out of Jack in an unbroken torrent. Tereza, who was as interested in spectacle as any of the other women in Malá Strana, came to see what the fuss was about. She gasped at the naked woman in her employer’s office and clapped her hand over Jack’s eyes.

Gallowglass peered at the statue’s breasts. “Aye, Jack. I’d say she’s cold.” This earned him a cuff on the head from Tereza, who still retained a firm grip on the squirming child.

“It’s an automaton, Jack,” Matthew said, picking the thing up. When he did, the stag’s head sprang open, revealing the hollow chamber within. “This one is meant to run down the emperor’s dinner table. When it stops, the person closest must drink from the stag’s neck. Why don’t you go show Annie what it does?” He snapped the head back in place and handed the priceless object to Gallowglass. Then he gave me a serious look. “We need to talk.”

Gallowglass propelled Jack and Tereza out of the room with promises of pretzels and skating.

“You’re in dangerous territory, my love.” Matthew ran his fingers through his hair, which never failed to make him look more handsome. “I’ve told the Congregation that your status as my wife is a convenient fiction to protect you from charges of witchcraft and to keep the Berwick witch-hunts confined to Scotland.”

“But our friends and your fellow vampires know it’s more than that,” I said. A vampire’s sense of smell didn’t lie, and Matthew’s unique scent covered me. “And the witches know there’s something more to our relationship than meets even their third eye.”

“Perhaps, but Rudolf is neither a vampire nor a witch. The emperor will have been assured by his own contacts within the Congregation that there is no relationship between us. Therefore there is nothing to preclude his chasing after you.” Matthew’s fingers found my cheek. “I don’t share, Diana. And if Rudolf were to go too far . . .”

“You’d keep your temper in check.” I covered his hand with mine. “You know that I’m not going to let the Holy Roman Emperor—or anybody else, for that matter—seduce me. We need Ashmole 782. Who cares if Rudolf stares at my breasts?”

“Staring I can handle.” Matthew kissed me. “There’s something else you should know before you go off to thank the emperor. The Congregation has fed Rudolf’s appetites for women and curiosities for some time as a way to win his cooperation. If the emperor wishes to have you and takes the matter to the other eight members, their judgment won’t be in our favor. The Congregation will turn you over to him because they cannot afford to have Prague fall into the hands of men like the archbishop of Trier and his Jesuit friends. And they don’t want Rudolf to become another King James, out for creatures’ blood. Prague may appear to be an oasis for the otherworldly. But like all oases, its refuge is a mirage.”

“I understand,” I said. Why did everything touching Matthew have to be so snarled? Our lives reminded me of the knotted cords in my spell box. No matter how many times I picked them apart, they soon tangled again.

Matthew released me. “When you go to the palace, take Gallowglass with you.”

“You’re not coming?” Given his concerns, I was shocked that Matthew was going to let me out of his sight.

“No. The more Rudolf sees us together, the more active his imagination and his acquisitiveness will become. And Gallowglass just may be able to wheedle his way in to Kelley’s laboratory. My nephew is far more charming than I am.” Matthew grinned, but the expression did nothing to alleviate the darkness in his eyes.

Gallowglass insisted he had a plan, one that would keep me from having to speak to Rudolf privately yet would display my gratitude publicly. It wasn’t until I heard the bells ringing the hour of three that I caught my first glimmer of what his plan might entail. The crush of people trying to enter St. Vitus Cathedral through the pointed arches of the side entrance confirmed it.

“There goes Sigismund,” Gallowglass said, bending close to my ear. The noise from the bells was deafening, and I could barely hear him. When I looked at him in confusion, he pointed up, to a golden grille on the adjacent steeple. “Sigismund. The big bell. That’s how you know you’re in Prague.”

St. Vitus Cathedral was textbook Gothic with its flying buttresses and needlelike pinnacles. On a dark winter afternoon, it was even more so. The candles inside were blazing, but in the vast expanse of the cathedral they provided nothing more than pinpricks of yellow in the gloom. Outside, the light had faded so much that the colorful stained glass and vivid frescoes were of minimal help in lifting the oppressively heavy atmosphere. Gallowglass carefully stationed us under a brace of torches.

“Give your disguising spell a good shake,” he suggested. “It’s so dark in here that Rudolf might miss you.”

“Are you telling me to get shiny?” I gave him my most repressive schoolmarm expression. His only reply was a grin.

We waited for Mass to begin with an interesting assortment of humble palace staff, royal officials, and aristocrats. Some of the artisans still bore the stains and singes associated with their work, and most of them looked exhausted. Once I’d surveyed the crowd, I looked up to take in the size and style of the cathedral.

“That’s a whole lot of vaulting,” I murmured. The ribbing was far more complicated than in most Gothic churches in England.

“That’s what happens when Matthew gets an idea in his head,” Gallowglass commented.

“Matthew?” I gaped.

“Hee was passing through Prague long ago, and Peter Parler, the new architect, was too green for such an important commission. The first outbreak of the plague had killed most of the master masons, however, so Parler was left in charge. Matthew took him under his wing, and the two of them went a bit mad. Can’t say I ever understood what he and young Peter were trying to accomplish, but it’s eye-catching. Wait until you see what they did to the Great Hall.”

I had my mouth open to ask another question when a hush fell over the assembled crowd. Rudolf had arrived. I craned my neck in an effort to see.

“There he is,” Gallowglass murmured, jerking his head up and to the right. Rudolf had entered St. Vitus on the second floor, from the enclosed walkway that I’d spotted spanning the courtyard between the palace and the cathedral. He was standing on a balcony decorated with colorful heraldic shields celebrating his many titles and honors. Like the ceiling, the balcony was held up by unusually ornate vaulting, though in this case it resembled the gnarled branches of a tree. Based on the breathtaking purity of the cathedral’s other architectural supports, I didn’t think this was Matthew’s work.

Rudolf took his seat overlooking the central nave while the crowd bowed and curtsied in the direction of the royal box. For his part, Rudolf looked uncomfortable at having been noticed. In his private chambers, he was at ease with his courtiers, but here he seemed shy and reserved. He turned to listen to a whispering attendant and caught sight of me. He inclined his head graciously and smiled. The crowd swung around to see whom the emperor had singled out for his benediction.

“Curtsy,” Gallowglass hissed. I dropped down again.

We managed to get through the actual Mass without incident. I was relieved to find that no one, not even the emperor, was expected to take the sacrament, and the whole ceremony was over quickly. At some point Rudolf quietly slipped away to his private apartments, no doubt to pore over his treasures.

With the emperor and priests gone, the nave turned into a cheerful gathering place as friends exchanged news and gossip. I spotted Ottavio Strada in the distance, deep in conversation with a florid gentleman in expensive woolen robes. Dr. Hájek was here, too, laughing and talking to a young couple who were obviously in love. I smiled at him, and he made a small bow in my direction. Strada I could do without, but I liked the emperor’s physician.

“Gallowglass? Shouldn’t you be hibernating, like the rest of the bears?” A slight man with deep-set eyes approached, his mouth twisted into a wry smile. He was wearing simple, expensive clothes, and the gold ring on his fingers spoke of his prosperity.

“We should all be hibernating in this weather. It is good to see you in such health, Joris.” Gallowglass clasped his hand and struck him on the back. The man’s eyes popped at the force of the blow.

“I would say the same about you, but since you are always healthy, I will spare us both the empty courtesy.” The man turned to me. “And here is
La Diosa
.”

“Diana,” I said, bobbing a greeting.

“That is not your name here. Rudolf calls you ‘
La Diosa de la Caza.’
It is Spanish for the goddess of the chase. The emperor has commanded poor Master Spranger to abandon his latest sketches of Venus in her bath in favor of a new subject: Diana interrupted at her toilette. We all wait eagerly to see if Spranger is capable of making such an enormous change on such short notice.” The man bowed. “Joris Hoefnagel.”