be Christmas soon, and the snow lay already thick upon the ground, muffling the horse’s hooves. Poley had awakened before we reached the manor, struggling madly against his bonds for a few minutes before resigning himself. Rhys met us at the stable, taking the horses and vanishing into the dark building.
I slung my squalid burden across my shoulder easily and made my way into the cellars through the outside entrance. There was a little room there, caught against the foundations of an older building when the present house had been rebuilt. It was a somewhat damp and a bit airless, but I wasn’t overly concerned with the little assassin’s comfort, only with my own revenge for that day in Deptford, over seven years before. I dropped the man to the floor and took the candles from the serving-wench who had accompanied us to light the way. I perched the candles on the outcroppings of the rough foundation stones, and stood over my victim in contemplation. Poley struggled into a seated position, then gasped as he recognized me.
“Good evening, Robin,” my smile was no more than a feral baring of teeth. “I see you remember me, after all. What else do you remember?” I stooped and plucked the gag from his mouth, letting it fall to the floor.
“What is the meaning of this outrage? I am an Englishman, and not to be treated so! I have friends, very highly placed friends, and—”
“You have no friends, Robin, and you never had. You are a tawdry twisted little man who has come to the end of his tawdry twisted little life. Did you think that you would never have to atone for the lives you warped and ruined? Did you think that you could explain it all to God, and he would forgive you? Well, perhaps you are right. You are certainly about to find out.”
“Who are you?” Robin shouted desperately, “You’re not Marlowe! Marlowe is dead!” I nodded agreeably, and took a step back from the man, closer to the candle, then removed the patch that covered my scarred eyelid. Robin gasped again, but said nothing.
“Marlowe is dead, Robin, undeniably dead, but I yet live, at least after a fashion. No,” I cut off the spluttering protests, “I do not wish to know the whys of the thing, or how you were forced to do it, or even how I forced the council into moving as it did. It makes no difference, you see. You will die, and I will kill you. I’ve just not decided upon how, yet.” That was a lie, though Poley could not know that. I would let the man stew all day, and break his neck quickly and cleanly the following night. “Of course, the precept ‘an eye for an eye’ offers a certain ironic symmetry,” I added, tilting my head to listen to the crowing of a distant cock, allowing the candlelight to fall full upon the jagged ridges of the heavy scar before turning on my heel and leaving the room, locking the door securely behind me. There was yet time for Geoffrey to read Poley’s correspondence, if I hurried.
Geoffrey’s voice was steady as he read, but my gorge rose at the crowing note in the terse tale of Hal’s capture and imprisonment. He had married his Libby, there in the prison, and had thought that word could not be taken to the Queen before he himself was well on the road back to Paris. But Cecil’s spies were legion, and the tidings had soon reached his ears. He then presented them to the queen as a perfect means to abate the objectionable earl’s imagined influence on Essex, whose precarious position at court was obvious to every eye but Essex’s own.
It scalded me to think of Hal imprisoned, though I had to admit that the romantic role of captive would probably afford him some little amusement, at least at first. Poley’s latest message to Cecil had been little more than a wail of supplication, entreating the secretary to recall him to London, and employ him there. We altered the message, advising Cecil that Poley was going out of Paris for what might be a protracted time, and hinting at some momentous news he would uncover.
“Take your rest now, Christopher,” Geoffrey ordered. “It grows late.” I thanked him, and left. The late winter’s dawn was almost upon me; I paused in the kitchens long enough to give orders concerning my guest, and reached my bed in