few minutes, regretfully thinking of Montague. The little man had been of great use, renting the house and seeing to the special demands of the stratagem, but of course he would have had to die sooner or later, as would any who had learned of the vampire’s existence. The serving man and his son had already been dealt with, having met with an unfortunate accident on the way back from market late one night. The earl brushed off his clothing and began the walk back to his own house, some five miles distant.
Marlowe strove against the rags that bound him, but the knots were good, and Geoffrey’s strong arms held him fast. Presently he ceased to struggle.
Geoffrey felt him slacken, and the ashen face and blank expression troubled him. The long miles vanished beneath the pounding hooves, but as the dawn approached Kit grew restless, the remembered torment of his exposure welling in him, and Geoffrey murmured to him, gentling the man as he would a restive horse. Jehan, running on his own four paws across the fields, reached the manor first and as they arrived he, without bothering to dress, was preparing the bath in the heavily shuttered room Kit would occupy. Geoffrey and Nicolas brought the bound and struggling man in between them, and he quieted somewhat in the safe shadows of the room. Geoffrey, on his guard, cut away the rags that bound his young ward but Kit just stood there, and allowed Jehan to strip him and lower him into the waiting tub. The hot water relaxed him, and the day-trance claimed him within minutes. Geoffrey gave Jehan his instructions before he and Nicolas left to take their own rest.
Sir Walter made his way to his own rooms, stopping only long enough for a word or two with another guest, who had observed their entrance from the shadows of the gallery. When he reached his bed he threw himself down, not even removing his boots, asleep before his body touched the mattress. He woke late in the day to peruse the books and other flotsam he had rescued from the fire and that evening took his findings to Geoffrey.
“I am concerned about Kit’s—condition, your grace. I have examined the contents of the braziers that were burning around the pentacle, with disturbing results. Among the more usual herbs were hemp and blighted rye.”
“I am familiar with the effects of hemp, Sir Walter, but why blighted rye?” Geoffrey said, frowning.
“Francis Bacon was experimenting with it. He had an idea that the visitations of the Devil that plague some villages were in fact the result of poisoning. This led him to ingest some of the spoiled grain, and when he ran mad with what seemed to be a case of possession, his manservant called in Northumberland, who being a wizard, as the man thought, ought to be able to deal with it, as well as keep it quiet. Harry told me later that Bacon reported seeing everything from the devil to the dancing dead. Who knows what demons Kit may have seen, or thought that he had seen? I feel that this may be why he has withdrawn.” Geoffrey nodded consideringly.
“I thank you, Sir Walter. We will bear this in mind.”
Three days passed and Marlowe woke each evening with a convulsive start, fighting the bonds that no longer held him. Jehan would catch him, holding him until the struggling body relaxed. Sylvie would fetch Geoffrey, who would sit on the bed taking the man’s face in his hand, turning it toward the light. He was more than a little disturbed by the vacant expression. On the third night he raised his voice, calling Kit by name and slapping him sharply on one cheek. He flinched, but otherwise gave no sign that he had heard his name, or even felt the blow. After a quiet exchange with Jehan, Geoffrey left Marlowe resting with the large serving man on one side and Sylvie on the other, and retraced his steps to the small study where Nicolas waited.
“I do not know,” he answered the unspoken question. “It may be that Northumberland has broken him past healing. He has said nothing and is refusing to feed—” he swung around at an abrupt motion from Nicolas and faced Sir Walter in the doorway.
“Your pardon, your grace,” the man said smoothly. “I did not mean to eavesdrop.”
“But you have questions and wish answers,” Geoffrey finished for him, and Ralegh nodded, his eyes narrowed to ice-blue