The Devil's Looking-Glass - By Mark Chadbourn Page 0,65
still in their holds and food and water in their barrels. Every captain knows to steer well clear—’
‘You did this.’ The low growl of Strangewayes’ voice rustled across the cabin. Will turned to see the red-headed spy confronting him, rapier drawn, his face flushed with an anger that must, Will surmised, be born of despair. ‘If you had taken even a moment to prepare her for the horrors of the Unseelie Court, she might have survived the encounter. But no, the great Will Swyfte had better things to do with his time.’
‘Put your sword away, boy,’ Courtenay growled. ‘You’re making a fool of yourself.’
‘England is littered with dead and wounded men who have made your acquaintance, oft-times decent-hearted, God-fearing people you have used and discarded once they have served your purpose, so I have heard,’ Strangewayes continued, not taking his gaze off Will. ‘You care for no one but yourself. And yet you are tolerated because, in your cunning way, you offer a service to the Queen and her government. But you must be held to account sooner or later – if not by God, then by me.’
‘’Tis true that I am not a good man, but I am an effective one,’ Will replied in a calm voice. He could see the hurt burning in the other man’s face. ‘And you are mistaken on one count. There are people dear to me, and I would defend them even at the cost of my own life. I would never see Grace harmed—’
‘Lies.’ Strangewayes thrust with his rapier, missing Will by a hair’s breadth as the older man stepped aside at the last moment. Will could see there was no reasoning with him. His passion burned too strong for that. Snarling, Tobias thrust again, and this time Will’s sword was at the ready and he parried. The clash of steel rang through the cabin.
Red-faced and puffing, Courtenay looked fit to burst at the display of disrespect upon his ship. ‘Shed one drop of his blood and I’ll have ye keel-hauled,’ he roared.
Strangewayes thrust again. Will deflected the tip of the sword with a flick of his wrist. Though he had some skill with the rapier, the red-headed spy was too raw, too consumed with emotion in a way that no true swordsman would ever be, Will saw. His bravado and arrogance had always seemed a shield to protect his insecurities, traits Will had presumed he would eventually grow out of, given time and experience. Now he wondered if they would be the death of the other man before he had a chance to learn.
Driven by anger, Strangewayes prodded with his rapier as if he were poking a smith’s forge. Will parried, once, twice, and at the moment when he could have easily disarmed the other man, he let his rapier fall. Courtenay gasped. Strangewayes’ blade thrust true towards Will’s heart. At the last, the younger spy caught himself, the tip of his rapier piercing linen. A rose bloomed on Will’s shirt. Tobias’s hand shook as he tried to drive the blade on, but in the end he could not bring himself to kill. ‘Damn you, Swyfte,’ he muttered, blinking away tears of frustration.
‘I am already damned. Would I be here watching friends suffer and die were that not so?’ Will bit down, forcing himself to ignore the pain from the sword digging into his flesh. ‘There are few friends in this business, but we are all brothers. The bonds run deep. We would give our lives for each other, as John gave his life for the woman you love. No one would ever have called him a good man, but he was an honourable one, yes, even to the end. And honour has more value than gold, for it buys a man a clear conscience and a light heart.’
‘And you think you are honourable?’ Strangewayes spat.
‘We all try to do our best in hard times. And sometimes we fail. That is the nature of men, is it not? And our failures are greater than others’ because we play for high stakes, and we feel them more acutely. Know only that I would die for Grace, as would you.’
Strangewayes hesitated, torn between his impotent rage and his sense of honour. In the lull, Courtenay cursed, snatched up the cudgel he kept by his trestle and clouted the younger spy round the head. Strangewayes pitched to the floor in a daze, his sword clattering across the boards. ‘Let that knock some bloody sense in