The Devil's Looking-Glass - By Mark Chadbourn Page 0,40
life for things that flirted with death. Long hair lashed in the wind. Their faces were the colour of frost, shadows pooling around their eyes. Scanning the steadily advancing group, he counted around thirty, small in number yet devastating in force.
‘We have a fight on our hands.’ The wind plucked his words away. ‘And if we fall this night, England is lost.’
He turned and raced up the icy stone steps that led up to the quay where a crowd of puzzled onlookers had gathered to see the frozen Thames. At his back, the winter storm swept in.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
WILL BOUNDED ON to the quayside, calling to the pikemen Cecil had set to guard the Gauntlet, ‘Gather your weapons and prepare for the fight of your lives!’ He knew he was probably sending them to their deaths, but their sacrifice would not be forgotten if the ship could be freed from its icy prison. He caught the officer of the guard by the arm and leaned in to whisper, ‘Tell your men not to look those bastards in the eye, nor listen to their words. They will undermine you with lies and deceit. Keep your eyes on their weapons and kill without mercy.’
The captain nodded, running towards his men, barking orders. Their cuirasses rattling as they ran, the defenders hurried down the stone steps on to the ice.
‘Should we join them in battle?’ Launceston peered towards the pale figures drawing in on the quay.
‘I need you here to help marshal the crew and these labourers. We must break the ice around the Gauntlet and carve a path out to where the river remains unfrozen.’
Unsettled whispers rustled across the quayside. The crowd grew in number as attention fell upon the Unseelie Court. Will beckoned for the other spies to gather closer. ‘We must prevent these good men from having their sleep ruined for evermore – however long that might be after this night,’ he whispered. ‘Spread the word that it is Spanish agents who approach. We need all good Englishmen to do their part in standing firm against the invaders. Keep them occupied.’
‘How do we do that?’ Carpenter asked.
‘Tell them to collect all the pitch from the shipwrights in Greenwich and carry the barrels down on to the ice. One of you find Captain Prouty and order him to prepare to sail.’
‘He will think you mad,’ Strangewayes complained.
‘Mad, I am. For only one of Bedlam’s Abraham men would dare to do what I plan.’ Will grinned. ‘But this is why the Crown selected us for our work. We are all mad, and, as you well know, the gods protect fools and lovers.’
He spun round, shouting, ‘Come, lads!’ to draw the attention of the gathered crowd. Carpenter and Strangewayes followed suit, whipping the men up with shouts and cheers and sending them off to the shipwrights’ stores marked out by piles of stone ballast along the quayside. Emerging from the inn with Launceston, Captain Prouty tossed aside a mug of ale and bounded up the plank to his ship. His orders rang out through the night as he moved across the deck. At the mainmast he paused to point up towards the yards.
Will ventured to the edge of the quay. On the river, the Queen’s men edged away from the safety of Greenwich, pikes levelled and swords drawn. Before them, the Unseelie Court advanced with long, determined strides, heads down into the wind, like wolves preparing to fall on a wounded deer.
Will forced himself not to rush to the aid of the men. Their sacrifice had bought him time. Turning back to the frantic activity along the dockside, he jumped on to the plank leading up to the galleon and demanded more haste in a voice that carried across the docks. As the labourers trundled the barrels of pitch from the stores, the spy directed them to carry their casks down the steps to the ice and there lay them in a line from the ship’s prow out into the river. Carpenter and Strangewayes marshalled another group of men to collect axes and the long-hafted hammers that the boat-builders used to drive wedges to split timber.
‘Captain Prouty insisted I inform you that he does indeed think you are mad,’ Launceston murmured as he urged the men on, drawn sword in his hand.
‘Then we are all in agreement. This is not a place for sane men. Bring the others and let us wallow in our madness.’ Will eased into the flow of men trudging down