slits in his weathered face. Geoffrey indicated a seat near the fire and Sir Walter sat and began to fill his pipe.
“First of all, my lord, I do not know, nor do I care, what your natures maybe. That you are good men and that my old friend is well befriended in you in his great need, I have no doubt, so we may dispense both with those questions and your explanations. No, I wish to know what your plans are regarding Northumberland,” Ralegh said softly, gazing at the coals. Geoffrey, too, studied the fire a time before answering in a remote wintry voice.
“Were you ever raped, Sir Walter? No, I thought not, but that is what was done to Kryštof. No, I do not believe that the earl violated the man carnally, but what he did do was a rape of the very soul. I do intend to kill him,” Geoffrey finished flatly.
“And I have come, then, to plead for his life, albeit against my own preference. I cannot but agree that he deserves to die for what he has done, but at this time that could well see us all undone, myself not the least.” Ralegh shifted in his chair.
“Harry has changed, the thirst he had for knowledge has become twisted. He has had to live down his family’s reputation for treachery, confined to London as if the Queen and her ministers do not trust him out of their sight—as indeed they dare not. He has supported many scholars and poets, even Marlowe, in his time, giving to intellectual pursuits that energy that in others of his family has turned to pride and to treason. Let me speak to him,” Ralegh finished, seeing that Geoffrey was unmoved. After considering for a time longer his host nodded.
“I also desire to speak with him, and will accompany you.” It was not a request, Ralegh noted. “Nicolas will speak with Kryštof, when he is willing or able to speak again. Nicolas?” The second man shrugged his consent, and rose from his seat.
“He should not be left alone, and his servants have been with him all the day. I’ll bide with him a time,” he said and strode from the room, colliding with his houseguest, Walsingham, at the door. They exchanged a few quiet words and withdrew from the room.
“—he was always given to dark moods and sudden violence,” Sir Thomas said to Nicolas as they entered the room where Marlowe lay unseeing and uncaring on the rumpled bed. “Perhaps I can—oh Kit!” A cry was wrung from him at the sight that met his eyes. He slung himself onto the bed, gathering the abused man into his arms, ignoring Sylvie and Jehan, who slid from the bed and left the room.
Chapter 16
I looked up at Tom, able to focus for the first time since I’d been pulled from the pentacle. A scalding shame washed over me, as if I were somehow to blame for my degradation and defilement, not the hapless victim.
“Tommy?” I asked hoarsely, turning my face away. I well remembered how he had last seen me. “What are you doing here?”
“He rode to us full tilt, the night Northumberland displayed you to him,” Nicolas answered. “He saved your life.”
“No,” I whispered. “No, it was another saved it,” thinking of that beautiful voice, the caressing taloned hands, and fighting the sense of unspeakable loss that threatened once more to overwhelm me. “But it is Tom that brings me back to it.” I reached a thin hand to Walsingham’s cheek, to stroke the silky golden beard, and Tom caught my hand in his, bringing it to his lips. Nicolas, all but unnoticed, quietly left us alone.
“I never wanted to hurt you, Kit, and all I have ever done is hurt you terribly,” Tom said softly, and leaned over to kiss my scarred and stitched eyelid, but I moved and it was our lips that met. Sometime later Tom sat up and slipped his doublet off. He untied his collar and tossed it to the floor and began unlacing his shirt.
“Tommy,” I responded weakly, “I do not think that—”
“Hush, my love. Let me.”
Later as we lay entwined, sated and replete, I savored the lingering taste of my lover’s blood, and the sight of Tom’s sleeping form. I had thought that I would starve, that I would never be able to feed again without conjuring the hell of my imprisonment, and the defilement Northumberland had inflicted upon me. But Tom had roused my