This Scepter'd Isle (46 page)

"Then you think she will be a suitable instrument for bringing the Inquisition to England?" Aurilia's voice was soft, almost dreamy and her tongue slipped out between her pointed teeth to moisten her full, red lips.

"Her only fault as far as I can see is that she is very soft-hearted," Pasgen said thoughtfully. "Her nature is gentle and kindly. She really cannot bear seeing anyone suffer without wishing to relieve that suffering. She will need to be taught more strongly that to save the body, to relieve the physical suffering, will condemn the soul."

Aurilia turned toward Rhoslyn and smiled. Rhoslyn thought that was a mistake. It damaged the image of perfection she otherwise projected; her teeth were jagged and pointed like a shark's. Fleetingly Rhoslyn wondered how she managed not to stab Vidal Dhu when she kissed him.

"So, Rhoslyn, there is your next task. Find a place close to the princess. It must be a position of respect and one in which your advice will be attended." Aurilia's tone left no mistake that this was an order. "There should be little difficulty in putting steel into Princess Mary's spine since she already believes in the Church, and that to reject the Church and all that it stands for is to bring damnation."

"I can arrange it for you, Rhoslyn," Pasgen said. "I've already gotten into Chapuys's mind. Just say who you want to be and he'll introduce you to Vives, Mary's tutor."

"Good enough," Rhoslyn said. "I will deal with Vives. He's an idiot who thinks females are improved by harsh treatment. I'll have him put me in charge of Mary's religious training. It will be easy enough to convince her that faith is everything and triumphs over all small vanities. I'll pander to her love of music and fine clothing as long as she
believes.
Then, I will convince her that torment of a sinner's body is nothing, so long as the soul is saved—that the only thing that matters is confession of sin and heresy, and if death follows, not only is this no tragedy, it will enable the soul to go to heaven without repeating the sin with a recantation. Which, of course, will mean that anyone who does not believe as she does, believes wrongly and must be forced to accept her belief."

Aurilia smiled again and stroked Vidal's cheek. "See. See how we obey the High King. No harm will come to Mary. I'm sure Rhoslyn will defend Princess Mary from abduction or any other physical harm with all her skill and strength. And she will shape our tool—"

"
If
she comes to the throne," Vidal said, lips twisting. "How are we going to keep the red-haired babe away from it without abducting the child?"

"By making sure the mother is so disgraced that the red-haired babe is removed from the succession irrevocably. When the child is no longer of any interest to the powers of Logres,
then
we can set a changeling in its cradle.
Then
no one will care or think of witchcraft. And then
we
will have the child, we will have the use of the mind that would have ruled a realm and raised that realm to great heights."

There was a momentary silence as all four considered that. Rhoslyn and Pasgen had Seen the glory that was England, and the prosperity of Logres, under the rule of the one who had once been a red-haired babe. The creativity that welded a nation of self-seeking, squabbling nobles together and brought peace and prosperity could as easily be turned to the aggrandizement of the Unseleighe Court. What Vidal Dhu was thinking was not clear, but must have been something similar, because his tongue briefly caressed his upper lip, but then his mouth thinned with anger and anxiety.

"Easily said," Vidal remarked, "but the mother-to-be my FarSeers now say is Anne Boleyn, the absolute center of the king's love and attention. No matter what she does, what she says, the king holds her without fault. By your agreement, Aurilia, we cannot meddle with her; she must be inviolate."

Aurilia laughed softly and Pasgen stiffened his muscles to restrain a shudder. She looked at once smug and cruel—and satisfied. "Inviolate from physical hurt or abduction
only
," she said, voice purring. "That was what the High King ordered and to which I agreed. And remember that King Henry is as fickle as any pretty maid. Who knows how long he will think diamonds and pearls drop from her lips with each word, no matter how sharp. If the king casts her away, no one will care what we do with her—or the red-haired babe."

"Do not count on that. The Seleighe will be watching," Pasgen said. "Nor would I count on Boleyn losing the king's interest. I've heard Chapuys, the Imperial ambassador, speak of her."

Despite himself Pasgen was growing interested. He was not certain how powerful a sorcerer Aurilia was, but she had a brilliant and devious mind.

"And this Chapuys says what?" she asked, mildly.

"That Anne is very clever—infernally clever is the way he puts it. And he calls her a witch, who has ensorcelled the king."

"I wonder if that can be true?" Aurilia murmured. "If Mistress Anne Boleyn is Talented . . . Oh, if she is Talented and untrained, I have a plan that will destroy her and no Sidhe of the dark court need go near her to bring it about. No spell will be cast on her. We—" Aurilia giggled; Rhoslyn shivered "—we will not be to blame for what damage the girl does to herself."

"But how?" Vidal asked, pulling her hand away from his face as if he had suddenly become aware that her stroking caress was muddling his mind.

"Ask rather when than how," Aurilia said. "If she yields to Henry and he casts her off, we can exchange the child at any time. However, if she can manage to hold off the king until he is ready to marry her—if he can get her no other way—we will need to work more carefully. Once she is married and with child . . . Then—" Aurilia closed her eyes for a moment, savoring her plan "—then Anne will get a little gift from an old friend, an adorable little puppy."

"But if it is bespelled—" Vidal objected.

"No spell will be on it, nor will any spell manifest unless the dog is in Anne's own hands." Aurilia's smile made Pasgen shiver. "While she holds it and caresses it, her Talented mind will be prodded into an urgent need to express her pride, arrogance, and ill humor. And since those are natural to her, no one will suspect meddling."

"I hope not, but those accursed half-siblings of ours are likely to be somewhere around Mistress Anne watching and listening," Pasgen pointed out.

"Aleneil has already given Anne a safeguard, a small golden cross—" Rhoslyn began.

"A cross is no impediment," Vidal said.

"No, not the cross," Rhoslyn continued impatiently, "the spells set into every gemstone on the cross. The old Imperial ambassador wanted to cast some kind of spell on her, but his magician's attempts came to nothing. I understand you are not setting a spell, just an urging into her mind, and it may pass the wards, but if Aleneil is anywhere near Anne, won't she feel the effects of the dog?"

Aurilia shrugged. "That is a worthwhile warning. Half your pains will be remitted. It will be easy enough to make the dog shy of Sidhe. If Aleneil comes to call, the dog will go hide somewhere."

"And what are our pains to be?" Pasgen asked.

The Badger's Hole was just what it said, a very large hole in the ground, large enough for Miralys and Lady Aeron to pass through as well as Denoriel, Harry, and Matka Toimisto. The first few feet were pitch dark and forbidding; Harry tripped over some roots in the ground and would have fallen if Denoriel had not caught him and taken his hand.

"Sorry," a high-pitched voice with the hint of a chitter in it rang out. "Thought you were all from Underhill. Didn't notice the mortal among you."

And lights came on. The place, now visibly an earth tunnel with root tendrils hanging down from the roof and showing in the walls, thicker roots making the floor uneven, remained essentially a badger's hole. It widened out noticeably ahead, and the witch lights clustered and following them grew noticeably fainter as they drew nearer what should have been the badger's den.

So it might have been, if badgers, even mortal human-sized ones, furnished their chambers. Ceiling and walls remained much like those of the tunnel, except that the walls all had torch-holders with blazing torches in them and a huge root shaped into the form of a candelabra holding lighted candles hung down from the ceiling. Still the place was rather dim. FitzRoy craned his neck to see all around.

There were tables in the center of the room, rough-hewn, as were the benches and a few chairs that surrounded them, some of which still wore the bark of the trees from which they had been made. On them were quite an assortment of animals, some with manlike heads, some with the upright posture that permitted them to sit in humanoid fashion; some sat on their haunches, which was a bit less convenient for leaning over the table, but all had grasping hands with opposable thumbs. Most of them looked up at Denoriel's party, but not one looked surprised, even by the elvensteeds.

A five-foot-tall badger approached. Aside from his size and his hands—one of which held a tray with a bottle and a glass on it—he seemed to be an ordinary badger, black with white stripes and short powerful arms and legs. The kitsune stepped ahead and something passed from the kitsune's hand to that of the badger.

"Gate to the Bazaar what you want?" the badger asked Denoriel, casting a suspicious glance at the kitsune.

"Yes, thank you," Denoriel replied. "If you would be so kind."

The badger gestured at them to follow and wove his way among the tables, stopping about midway to deposit the bottle and glass. Denoriel saw that the walls at the sides of the room were undercut so that there were booths sheltered from the light of the torches in the deep shadows. Surely at the very back of one of them eyes gleamed just above the table and a dark form seemed to hang down from the booth ceiling. Some light from the suspended candelabra showed a very fair Sidhe sitting at the table to the front of that booth.

"Want to watch out for the boy," the badger said.

"He has King Oberon's mark," Denoriel pointed out. "Surely that will be protection enough."

"From those who come from Underhill." The badger snickered. "The Bazaar of the Bizarre didn't get its name for nothing. That's the fair attended by those who come from other worlds, and mortals who are strong enough in sorcery to find their way. Some of the otherworlders care nothing for King Oberon's commands."

Denoriel shrugged. "If they are forced to obey the rule of the Bazaar and commit no violence, I can hold my own."

"But can the boy?" the badger persisted. "Some of the inducements that will be offered to him will be hard to resist."

"Well, Harry?" Denoriel looked down at the boy who was still holding his hand.

"I don't believe I will be tempted after . . . after . . . I have my duty, after all."

The boy's eyes widened as he heard the words that came from his lips and he clutched tighter at Denoriel's hand. Lady Aeron stretched her neck forward from where she walked behind him and lipped at his hair comfortingly.

"Ah, duty." The badger chuckled. "Mortals and their duty. Duty brings them Underhill and duty gets them into trouble here. Never heard of duty keeping a mortal
out
of trouble."

"Harry means he must return to the mortal world," Denoriel said.

As he spoke they came to the back of the chamber, which was closed by double wooden doors, rather like those of a barn in the mortal world. The doors opened as they neared.

"Good luck," the badger said, pointing across the backyard at what seemed to be the roots of an enormous tree.

Six roots stood out of the ground, each as large as a mighty tree trunk, joining together some ten or twelve feet above the ground. Both Denoriel and Harry stared upward at the colossus, which reared out of sight into a silvery twilight sky.

"Where's the funny sun?" Harry asked.

Denoriel shook his head. "It may be that those doors we passed are a Gate in themselves. I don't know."

He was speaking slowly, examining the openings between the great roots. They were designed, he saw, to admit only one being at a time. Lady Aeron and Miralys could go separately; they would arrive anywhere they wanted to arrive when they wanted. The kitsune could presumably take care of himself, and in any case Denoriel felt no responsibility for him; however, Denoriel was damned if he was going to allow Harry to step through that Gate himself. He bent his knees.

"Up on my back, Harry," he said. "I'm not taking any chance on a Gate whisking you away."

The boy giggled, then obediently climbed up on Denoriel's back. Even through the pouch and the spells and all the clothing, Denoriel could feel the cold ache of that accursed cross. He thought with relief that Harry could now take it off whenever they were together. Oberon's mark would protect Harry from the Sidhe.

He stepped between two of the roots, but had no time to seek the power points. The faint shiver of dislocation passed through him immediately, and he found himself under a wooden arch with a decorative curved trelliswork that spelled out bazaar. Harry slipped down from his back but intelligently took his hand.

On each side of the arch, attached, brightly colored banners waved. Directly in front of the archway was a large sign so placed that no one emerging from the Gate could possibly avoid seeing it. In fact one had to walk several steps right or left to pass the notice.

The words, in beautifully calligraphed Elven, said, no spells, no drawn weapons, no violence and below those words on pain of permanent removal.

Denoriel stared at the sign for a moment. A feeling, gut-deep, assured him that the threat was real; something would remove . . . remove? remove to where? . . . any being that cast a spell, drew a weapon, or committed violence. He sighed. Then what did the kitsune fear? Resolved to watch that sly little fox closely, Denoriel stepped around the sign. Just on the other side he saw the kitsune standing between Miralys and Lady Aeron.

"Let's go," Matka Toimisto said, craning around Lady Aeron's shoulder to look. "The elvensteeds have generously offered to walk with us right to the entrance. I'll be safe once we're inside the Bazaar."