The Devil's Looking-Glass - By Mark Chadbourn Page 0,35

on, Nathaniel rose and took a steadying breath. ‘Yes, this must be how employment is for every other man. Apart from the being woken in the middle of the night to risk my life on rogue-infested byways without a crust to break my fast.’

Will looked back at the young man and saw the innocence that still nestled in his heart. He almost remembered how that used to feel. ‘Nat, you have been a good and loyal servant . . .’ he began.

Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. ‘And there you go again. What, have I been consigned to the block and no one told me?’

‘Hear me out. I promised your father that I would guide you and keep you safe. In truth, I have learned as much from you and your honest, hopeful nature as you ever have from me,’ Will said, choosing his words carefully. ‘But now I have taught you all I can, and after this task is complete I release you from my service.’

Nathaniel looked as if he’d been slapped. ‘Have I wronged you in some way?’

‘You have exceeded all expectations, Nat. This is a reward, not a punishment.’ Will smiled to soften the blow, but he felt a pang of sadness that he had to turn his back on his faithful assistant after all they had shared.

‘What if I do not wish to leave your service? Do my views matter?’

Will turned back to the window to avoid his assistant’s hurt gaze. ‘I plan to write a letter of recommendation that will gain you any position in London that you would wish for,’ he continued. ‘You have lived with danger long enough. You deserve to make a life for yourself where there is some material reward. A wife, children. Peace. Not this business of sweat and blood and shadows.’

Nathaniel started to speak, but Will silenced him with a hand and sent him on his way. He knew the curt dismissal had wounded Nat, but if he had allowed any space the young man would have woven a tissue of words, of argument and protest. There was little time for that, and no point. Much as he would miss his friend, and he would, greatly, he had spoken truly; this was the best reward he could offer Nathaniel: hope, freedom and the opportunity for a fresh start.

Drawing a stool to the trestle in one corner, he took the quill and ink-pot and by the light of the candle flame wrote the letter of recommendation. His name at the bottom, alone, would buy Nathaniel a good future. Even that did not feel enough.

Once done, he put aside his regrets and raced to the Black Gallery, where Carpenter was drinking sullenly by the roaring fire. Launceston paced the room in silence like some ghastly revenant. Will told them what had taken place at Greenwich. The two spies grasped the implications without any need for explanation and together the three men made their way through the fog to the palace’s River Gate.

Kneeling on the jetty, Carpenter peered at the black ripples lapping against the posts. ‘What foulness now resides here?’ he asked.

‘Something with teeth which carries with it the bitter cold of winter,’ Will replied. ‘You would do well to keep your face away from the water if you do not wish to be left with a permanent grin. Find Strangewayes, and then make ready a wherry to take us to Greenwich. I have one final piece of business to attend to, and by then Captain Prouty should be ready to sail.’

‘Hrrrm,’ Launceston mused as he peered into the fog. ‘Is it wise to take to the water?’

‘We do not have the time to cross the bridge and ride along the bank to Greenwich. The river is faster, and no vessel has been disturbed.’

‘So far,’ the Earl replied.

Will left the two men to select one of the boats tied to the pier and went in search of Grace. But as he hurried through the still palace corridors to where the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting slept, she found him first. He saw in an instant that trouble awaited him. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes blazed. Wrapped in an emerald cloak, she strode up to him and snapped, ‘I have just seen Nat. He is concerned for you. I fear for your sanity.’

‘Grace—’

‘Do not play games with me. I am no fool.’ She thrust her face towards his. ‘Nat is a good man, and although he has spent long years at your side he