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Authors: Jane Aiken Hodge

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BOOK: The Winding Stair
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Unable to move, blinded and stifling under the hood, she heard the ripple of condemnation pass round the table: ‘Death … death … death …'

Then, from somewhere across the table, a dissenting voice: ‘Brothers, should we not look further into this before we condemn the heir to the House of Aviz on one man's voice, even be
it the Star's – and he her co-heir? Should we not ask, first, what she means by the Treaty of Fontainebleau, and what the Star's plans are for the House of Braganza?'

Juana held her breath as a little doubtful murmur ran round the table, but Vasco's voice quelled it. ‘All in good time, Brother of the Silver Serpent. As for the Treaty of Fontainebleau, it is true I had not meant to tell you of its monstrous provisions yet, but I see that I must. We are betrayed, Brothers, betrayed by our false friends, the French.' He rapidly outlined the provisions of the treaty as Juana had heard him describe them to the inner circle. ‘As to the House of Braganza,' he went on. ‘It is not I, but Napoleon, who plans its destruction. I hold in my hand, Brothers, a copy of the French gazette, the
Moniteur
, dated from Paris on October 13th. It says, in so many words, that the House of Braganza has ceased to reign in Europe.'

‘Long live the House of Aviz,' said a voice somewhere to the left. The cry was taken up round the table.

‘And death to the traitor.' This was a voice from the other end of the table, and Juana had a horrid picture of members of the inner circle, scattered at intervals where they could act as crowd-leaders.

‘But is her treachery proved? Has she not shown herself careful for our good? I say this needs more investigation, Brothers. I will not condemn even a woman unheard.'

‘Brother of the Silver Serpent.' Vasco's head must still be bare; his voice sounded more clearly than the others'. ‘You have tried the patience of the Star long enough. Ever since you first joined our Brotherhood you have been a quibbler and a questioner. Now I, who have revealed myself for the glory of the Star, demand that you too be put to the ultimate question. Bare your face, Brother, and show yourself a man to be trusted.' And then, mockingly, ‘See, Brothers, he dares not meet the challenge of the Star. Seize him and let us see.'

There was a scuffle; an exclamation: ‘The Englishman!'

‘You see, Brothers, how we are betrayed. This is one of Lord Strangford's people, set to spy upon us. At leisure, we will find out how he came to insinuate himself among the Brotherhood. But now we have lost too much time: I put the question to you all: death to them both.'

‘Death!' The unanimous shout echoed strangely from the cavern roof. Juana writhed unavailingly for a moment in her captor's grip,
then made herself stand still. At least she could die like a Queen. She bit her lips under the hood, remembering the ruthless cord that had killed Father Ignatius in front of them all. But Vasco was speaking again: ‘The Star is merciful,' he said. ‘For a traitor and a traitress the death in life will come fast. Take them away, Brothers.'

No cord. Her captors were dragging her away from the table. She was aware of other struggling figures nearby. The Brother of the Silver Serpent … The Englishman … It hit her like a blow. Gair. She stumbled, and was pulled along ruthlessly, rough rocks bruising her, then thrown to the ground. She lay for a moment, panting, sobbing for breath, then heard the unmistakable sound of the cell door slamming shut. The key turned in the lock outside. She pushed back the hood from her face and sat up, painfully.

The lantern was still burning on the table. Gair lay inert on the floor beside her, breathing heavily, unconscious … Quickly, shakily, she felt his pulse and found it steady enough, nor did he seem to be bleeding. Merciful to have left her the lantern. Merciful? The only source of air to the little cell was from the door, or the secret panel. With these shut, and the lantern burning, the two of them would not last long. The Star's merciful death in life was simply death by asphyxiation.

She rose shakily to her feet and moved over to the secret panel. Dared she open it? If the acolytes had been stationed by the cell door, it would destroy their last chance. But why should they be? No one knew about the panel. She thought she must risk it. Trembling convulsively, she blew out the lantern and pressed the spring.

Nothing happened. The acolytes were back in their places. The meeting was going on with extraordinary, blood-chilling normality. The episode of herself and Gair was over. The Sons of the Star were making their final dispositions for attacking the French and taking over the country.

It was frighteningly efficient. Vasco, still speaking with bare head, finished outlining his plans. ‘Remember, Brothers, not a word, not a breath till the French are in our power.'

‘And the signal?' asked the Brother of the Ragged Staff.

‘I, Sebastian, will give the signal when I proclaim myself heir of the House of Aviz and rightful King of Portugal.'

And once again the cavern echoed with cries of ‘Sebastian!' and ‘Long live the House of Aviz,'

‘I thank you, Brothers. And now, we meet only to part …'

Juana closed the panel. The meeting was over. She dared not wait and see how Vasco dealt with the problem of closing the cavern.

She found the tinder-box on the shelf, relit the lantern and knelt down by Gair, who was breathing more easily. Was she right about the death in life? Or would an executioner, any moment now, unlock the door and drag them out to the torture? She began, breathlessly, to count. How soon did she dare reopen the panel?

Chapter Twenty-Five

‘Five thousand and five, five thousand and six …'

Gair stirred, put a hand to his head and sat up. ‘Where am I?' And then, ‘Juana! How could you?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘You married him! That impostor, that …' He stopped himself with an effort. ‘I'm sorry. I shouldn't … But how could you, Juana?'

Of course. Vasco had let the meeting think them married. Well, for the moment, she would let Gair. ‘How do you feel? Did they hurt you much?' She put an anxious hand on his forehead.

‘There's nothing wrong with me.' He recoiled from her touch. ‘A few bruises … If they were all …' He pulled himself up to a sitting position, moving a little away from her as he did so, and looked about him. ‘Where are we?'

‘In the Handmaiden's cell. The meeting's just over. I don't dare open the panel to look yet. I'm beginning to hope they've left us here to die.'

‘To hope?'

‘Yes. Don't you see? They don't know about the panel. They think we'll die of suffocation. That's their “death in life” that leaves no mark. In fact, I think I'd better blow out the lantern now I know you're better.' The brazier had burned out, and now the darkness was absolute.

‘Better! I'll never be better. I don't care any more. When I think you let him fool you into marriage. But,' his voice changed, ‘poor Juana; you know now how little he cares for you. To leave you to die here in the dark … I suppose nobody knows you're here?'

‘Only Vasco. But what about you?'

‘Nobody. It seemed safer so.'

‘You might have told
me
you were the Brother of the Silver Serpent!' It was absurd, perhaps, to be angry about this, here in the shadow of death, but she was, just the same. Was this why she had not undeceiyed him about Vasco? ‘What a fool you must have thought me,' she went on. ‘Solemnly reporting to you the
things you yourself had said. No wonder you didn't always hurry to see me the day after the meeting. It must have been vastly tedious for you to have to come at all.'

‘Juana! Don't say that. You must see I did it for your sake. I thought it safer for you not to know.'

‘You sound just like Vasco.' Angrily.

‘Vasco!' It brought him back to it. ‘Juana, what madness seized you? After all, I did warn you …'

‘So you did.' She was still too angry to explain. ‘I wish I knew how long it was since I closed the panel.' She changed the subject. ‘We ought to open it again as soon as possible or we really will suffocate. I had counted to five thousand before you came to. We'd better wait a little longer, don't you think?'

‘How big is the panel? Is there any hope we can get out through it?'

‘None, I'm afraid. It will provide us with enough air to keep us alive, that's all. Have you any friends among the Sons of the Star?'

‘Who might come to the rescue? I doubt if they will be able. Your cousin will see to that. I'm sorry. I should say, your husband. When did you realise your mistake, I wonder? At least you made the best amends you could. Too late, I fear. If only I had known sooner that de Mascarenhas was the real leader … Surely you owed it to me to tell me that, Juana.'

‘Good God! You can't think—' He actually imagined that she had gone off with Vasco of her own free will. It made her, for a moment, too angry for speech. Then, ‘I shall open the panel,' she said. We need some air in here.' Fury gave her courage. Her hand hardly shook as she worked the secret mechanism. The panel slid open, revealing darkness absolute. ‘They've gone.' She whispered it, just in case, but it was hard to imagine that anyone would be lurking there in the dark.

‘So it's to be a slow death, not a quick one. I'm sorry, Juana. Whatever you may have done, this is my fault for bringing you here in the first place. Can you forgive me?'

‘That depends a little on what you have let yourself believe about me.' At least, talking in the dark like this made it easier to speak freely. She felt her way back to the chair and sat down. Gair was sitting at her feet; she could feel him move restlessly on the hard rock.

‘Let myself believe? What do you mean? There was your letter
after all. Your sisters showed it to me. That put it brutally enough.'

‘My letter?' Why had she not thought of this? ‘What letter?'

‘Why, saying you had gone off with Vasco de Mascarenhas. That you loved him beyond reason, “more than family, more than home, more than life itself”. You see, I remember every word of it. I shall never forget it. Not that it looks as if I'll have much time. But, poor Juana, what did he do to you to cure you so drastically and so soon?'

Another forgery. She should have thought of this. There had been no search parties. When she sang, hopefully, the old songs from Forland House, thinking Gair might be looking for her, he had believed her ecstatically married. ‘You believed I'd do that?' she said.

‘What else could I think? Except that you might have sent some message, one word of apology – of explanation for me. I've been frantic, Juana, don't you see, worrying about you and wondering what would happen about the meeting tonight.'

‘That's all you think about!' Anger was warming in that cold cave. ‘You're spying!'

‘It's all I've dared think about since I heard of your marriage, otherwise I believe I'd have gone mad. But you might have written me one line, for myself. After all, we've been comrades, haven't we, for more than a year? I trusted you, Juana.' He too was finding the darkness conducive to free speech. ‘I loved you. I only realised just how much when I knew I had lost you. But to lose you to de Mascarenhas – What did he do to you, Juana? Was it very bad? It must have been, to turn you against him so. You were splendid, out there in the cavern. That's when I really knew what I had lost.'

‘Lost? How can you lose something you never had?' But though she still spoke with surface anger, she felt a little incorrigible glow of happiness fighting the dank chill of the cave.

‘I'm sorry. You're right, of course. It's all far away, now, and long ago – a lifetime ago. But, Juana, remember the maze at Forland House – the sunshine and the scent of lavender – and tell me that, then, if I had had more sense; if I had not been a career-mad young fool … If I had spoken then, Juana, would you not have said yes?'

Of course she would have. ‘I was a child then—'

‘A delicious child, fighting her stammer. I'll never forget that
first night: Cesario, in the moonlight, ready to plunge into the river. Why did I not understand that I loved you from that moment? But, Juana, what could I do? I had my way to make in the world – still have, come to that, but now I'm sure of a seat in the House, the way is open before me. No use now. You're married to de Mascarenhas.'

‘Worse than that. Have you forgotten? We are shut up here, waiting a slow death in the dark.'

‘I won't believe it.' She heard him rise to his feet, and stagger a little as he did so. ‘My life may be finished. It ended when I heard of your marriage. But there is more than that to be thought of. We have to escape, Juana. We have to save Portugal – from – oh, God – from your husband.'

She really ought to tell him. Instead: ‘Try the door, if you like,' she said. ‘Look, it's this way.' She took his hand to guide him, and felt it tremble at her touch. She felt more than that. She had thought, once, that Vasco's touch was incendiary. This was an earthquake; a soulquake, she thought, and gave herself up to Gair's embrace. His lips on hers, not savage, as Vasco's had been, but pleading, loving … His hands, now, palm to palm against hers, with their own message … And her own mouth and hands, answering his, she knew, with all the feeling she had so long denied.

As quickly as it had happened, it was over. He let her go, and she could hear him breathing (sobbing?) in the darkness. ‘Oh, God, you're married. I'm sorry, Juana.'

Now, surprising herself, she laughed. ‘As a matter of fact,' she said, ‘I'm not, you know.'

‘Not!' She felt him take it, in the darkness, like a blow. ‘You mean he didn't even – Oh, God, Juana!' And then, quickly! ‘It makes no difference: you must know that. But we must be married at once. Just in case …'

BOOK: The Winding Stair
6.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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