The Devil's Looking-Glass - By Mark Chadbourn Page 0,57
steel herself, does she not?’
Will flinched inwardly. He knew he had been remiss in not revealing to Grace the secrets of the Unseelie Court the moment she had been found aboard. But she had shown such spirit in coping with the privations of the past weeks, never complaining, always bright, ever offering a kind word when she saw the other spies in a gloomy mood, that he hadn’t the heart to bring darkness into her world. He looked towards the main deck where she walked among the sweltering crew with a leather pail of seawater with which the sailors could mop their burning heads and necks. She reminded him still of Jenny, and the life she might have had if she had not been taken from him. He had no desire to see Grace’s innocence tainted, her hope and her future stolen as her sister’s had been, and he would protect her until the last possible moment.
‘The more you delay, the more danger you put her in,’ Carpenter pressed, as if he could read Will’s thoughts.
‘I will deal with her when I am good and ready,’ he said, ending the conversation.
Already irritable, the other man flushed with frustration. He gripped the rail and hissed, ‘Will you take no advice from anyone? The great Will Swyfte, England’s greatest spy! Who knows better than all others . . . until disaster strikes, and then he throws his friends to the wolves.’
‘What happened between us is long gone, John. Will you not let go of it?’
‘Easy words for you. You do not see the results of that betrayal every time you look in a mirror.’
Will grunted. What could he say to ease the other man’s pain that he had not said a thousand times? He thought back to frozen Muscovy and the flight through the stark woods where they were attacked by the nameless creature that had been summoned by their enemies. He had thought Carpenter slaughtered in the assault. If he had returned to search for his friend, he could well have lost not just his own life but all they had gained for the Queen during their expedition. For a while Carpenter seemed to have come to terms with what he saw as a grand betrayal. Clearly, resentment still simmered inside him, but Will had a greater fear.
‘John, when this business is done . . . should we survive . . . you must ask for time away from your duties,’ he said. ‘I sense the taint of the Unseelie Court in you, that creeping despair that afflicts all of us eventually when we have spent too long battling those things.’
Carpenter looked over the water, not meeting Will’s eyes. ‘Time away? I am sick of all this. Sick to the heart. I would leave the service of Sir Robert Cecil for ever and seek a new life for myself where there are no nightmares walking under the sun.’
‘You know Cecil will never sanction that,’ Will said gently. ‘You are too valuable in this long fight—’
‘This never-ending fight!’
‘Few others have your expert touch, John, your knowledge of the Enemy, your ability to look them in the eye and survive. The Queen needs you.’
‘Enough,’ the other man snarled. ‘I tell you now that I will be gone from here, sooner or later. I deserve a life of my own, and by God I will take it, if I have to cut my way through a hundred colleagues to get it.’ He rounded on Will, his eyes narrowing. ‘See to the girl. Do not let her days be blighted as mine have been.’ He stalked away from the rail, clattering down the steps to the main deck where he shoved aside any who crossed his path as he made his way to his berth.
Before Will could consider whether he truly was betraying Grace, a cry rang out from the topman. Looking up to the top of the mainmast, he saw the lookout pointing towards the north-east where lightning crackled from a looming black cloud. Captain Courtenay bounded up the steps to the poop deck.
‘Storm’s coming,’ he barked, clapping his large hands together. ‘In these waters, that could be good or ill. It’ll blow some much-needed wind in our sails and speed us on our way. But in the tropics, storms can come down like a hammer on an anvil, with us caught between the two.’
‘I will gladly take our chances, captain. I have had my fill of stewing here waiting for something to happen.’