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Act 13, The Lion Tower

'Lucy, Lucy, are you all right?' thought Lilith.

'Yes, Lilith, I'm back with you. What happened?'

'I don't know exactly. I have been searching my medical databases. I think you were in shock but it was much worse than it should have been. I need to investigate further.'

'Oh. Would you like some piece and quiet then?' thought Lucy.

'No. That's not necessary. I am not like you. I have a much bigger mind than you, so I can divide up my consciousness and multitask.' Lilith paused; Lucy did not answer, which usually meant that she was baffled so Lilith tried again. 'I can do more things at the same time than you.'

'Sometimes you seem so human, Lilith, that I forget you are really a demon, but then, I only have a little mind,' thought Lucy, dryly.

'What is the last thing you remember, Lucy? Do you recall the fight with the monster?'

Lucy's mind froze on Lilith. For a moment, she was concerned that Lucy might go back into shock. The girl seemed to shake herself and then recover. She really was immensely tough.

'I remember. I will remember until I die. It's funny. I wasn't scared at the time. I was too busy, you see. It was afterwards.'

'I have run diagnostics on your body and it seems to have recovered,' thought Lilith. "You do have some internal tissue damage and external abrasions despite the shielding. That monster was very tough. I have accelerated your healing processes.'

'So I will live then,' thought Lucy, with an edge that Lilith recognised as humour.

'I believe that it is my fault the shock was so bad. I failed to meld smoothly with your nervous system. I will do better next time,' thought Lilith. 'When you went into shock, I didn't know what to do. I thought that maybe your reaction was normal and that if I interfered I would make you look inhuman. So I did nothing and let you drift away; was that right, Lucy?'

'Quite right, Lilith. Are you holding me in a swoon?'

'Yes. It was convenient to hold you quiescent while I carried out urgent repairs to your body. Your eyes are closed but from the sounds and sensations you are on a horse. The captain is holding you in front of him. Your unconscious body rather likes the feel of his arms about you. It feels safe and protected and—'

'Yes, I get the idea, Lilith. Now wake me up so I can see where we are,' Lucy interrupted.

Lucy stirred in his arms and lifted her head up to William. Their eyes locked. For a brief moment of madness, he almost bent down and kissed her. Her slightly parted lips were only inches away from his. It would have taken but a moment. William controlled himself. Drake had once told him that there was a time for audacious attack and a time for thought and planning. She was no tavern girl to be bowled over by an audacious lad. This was going to be a long campaign.

"You have recovered, Lady Dennys?"

"Indeed, Captain, as you see," said Lucy. "Um, Captain?"

"Yes, Lady Dennys."

"I believe I might be able to stay on the horse even if you held me a little less tightly, and it would facilitate breathing."

William blushed and released her. She sat upright with one hand on the saddle and the other on his arm. Damn! She was laughing at him again, he thought, ruefully. Still, laughter was better than scowls. A careful man might build much upon laughter.

He knew this was the wrong time but he might not get the chance to talk to her alone again. "Are you ready to talk about it, milady?"

She shuddered. "Please, Captain, I want to forget."

"We must talk, milady." He was implacable. "That monster was Christopher Packenham, a Westcountry gentleman. He was possessed by a demon, wasn't he?"

"Yes," she said, briefly.

"And you knew. That is why you came with us."

"Yes." She paused. "I have never heard of Packenham but I knew we were facing something very dangerous."

"It ripped Fletcher apart. How did you kill it?"

"I have been trained to fight," she said.

"Don't gull me, lady," he said. "Fletcher could fight and it ripped him apart like a small boy tortures a fly. I saw you thrown against a wall so hard every bone in your body should be broken. I saw you hit back with blows that would smash ship's timbers. How did you do it? What are you?"

She hung her head and tears rolled down her cheeks. She began to shake again. "Please, Captain, no more," she said.

Damnation, thought William. How does one deal with a weeping woman? To bully her further would be intolerable. He pulled her closer to him and she put her head on his chest. "Hush, milady," he said. "You are quite safe. On my life, no one will hurt you." He meant every word.

The party left London by Aldgate. This time the sergeant just waved them through. They clattered into the Tower over the stone entranceway. William swung Lucy down one-handed, then dismounted.

'He really is quite dashing,' thought Lilith, admiringly. Lucy ignored her. She was beginning to suspect that Lilith was a flirt.

"Hand the horses over to the stable lads," William said to his men.

The captain looked around. All was quiet except for the routine patrols. "I didn't expect the Mayor with a band but you think that someone might have come out to meet us. That prissy secretary of his might have shown his face, if not Walsingham himself."

"Um, Captain, I have a small confession to make," said Lucy, diffidently.

William looked at her suspiciously. She stood in front of him with her head down and her hands clasped together in front of her. She looked sweet and innocent. William strongly suspected that he was about to be gulled. He also suspected that she was going to get away with it.

"Sir Francis knew nothing about our little enterprise tonight. Information reached me from . . . from a personal source. I wasn't entirely open with you."

William sighed. "I realised that as soon as I recognised you, Lady Dennys. I cannot imagine Sir Francis sending his niece to hunt demons, whatever special abilities she might have."

"It might be best if we all forgot my participation. You and your gallant crew must take all credit for hunting down the monster," said Lucy, firmly.

"I like not taking the glory for this, milady. I did no more than watch. However, for your sake, I will do it," said William.

The boatswain walked up to William and saluted. "Begging your pardon, Cap'n. But the men are too awake now to sleep. We thought we might have a victory party. The men have asked me to invite you and the lady." He nodded at Lucy.

"Oh no, I couldn't," said Lucy.

"With respect, ma'am. It wouldn't be the same without you. You making the kill an all," said the boatswain.

Lucy looked helplessly at William. "I would be happy to escort you, milady," He said. She still looked doubtful. William had a sudden inspiration. "Perhaps your maid should attend you."

The girl brightened up immediately. William had guessed right. For form's sake, she needed a chaperone. "Yes, I will bring Millie. I will just go and change, Captain, and come back with my maid."

"You may fetch some kegs from my personal stocks, boatswain. I also need to attend to a few details, so I will escort the Lady Dennys back to her quarters and be back directly," said William.

He dropped Lucy off at Walsingham's apartments and hurried to his chamber nearby. As an officer, he bedded down with the gentlefolk. William hurriedly took off his sea gear and put on a gentleman's outfit. He considered shaving but thought the risk off cutting his own throat in the dark too great. How handsome would he look with blood dripping down his shirt? No, he would have to settle for the rugged man-of-action appearance. The ship's barber had shaved him but six days ago so he was still reasonably groomed.

William hurried back to the barracks. The buzz of sound and laughter greeted him. Men cheered when he entered. Nothing was sweeter than a victory party. He waved his hands for silence. "Now, men. You have chosen to invite Lady Dennys and she will be here shortly. She is a real live lady so I expect a bit of decorum." A man cheered and waved his beer mug. "Yes, even from you, Richards. After a few drinks, I will escort her back to gentlefolk country and then you may revert back to the bunch of lewd rogues that I know you to be. But until that time, I want you to be gentler than an Italian dancing master."

The boastswain indicated the door. Millie had tentatively put her head round. She signalled to William. He hurried out to find Lucy waiting for him in the dark. "Milady," he said and offered his arm. She took it and they swept in to the candlelit interior, Millie following. Lucy had combed her hair and changed into a blue court dress with white petticoats. The sea dogs drew back so William could escort her up the long room to the drinks. William stole a glance as they entered the light. She took his breath away. They paraded the length of the room. The men clapped and whistled. Lucy tossed her hair and grinned.

A sailor put a mug of beer in her hand. He held up a mug of his own and the din quietened. "Lady Dennys," he said.

"Lady Dennys," the sea dogs roared back and they drank deeply from their mugs.

She held her mug up. "The bold men of the Swallow," she said. They cheered and drank again.

Lucy and William retired to some chairs in the corner. "Thank you for coming, milady. It means a lot to the men."

"Not at all, Captain. I shall dine out on how I attended a victory party of bold sea rovers with only my maid to protect me. I shall fair give other ladies the vapours."

Her eyes danced. With Lucy, William reflected that one was never far from laughter. He had thought that she made sport of him, particularly, but now he thought she just made sport of the world.

"Your boatswain is entertaining my maid, I see," said Lucy, dryly.

William looked. The boatswain had his arm around the young girl while he explained some feat with vigorous motions of his other hand. "Mmm," said William, noncommittally.

The door opened again and Simon and Gwilym strolled in to investigate the noise. They looked around in puzzlement. Simon raised an eyebrow on spotting Lucy. "Welcome, Master Tunstall," said William. "Richards, fetch some mugs for our guests."

"Lady Dennys, Captain," Simon nodded to them. "Everyone seems in a fair mood."

"It's a victory party, Simon. Isn't it thrilling? Captain Hawkins and his gallant sea dogs killed the lunatic that has been terrorising London." Lucy gave William the Look.

"Ah, that's right," said William, flushing.

"Already, but how?" Simon was astonished. "How did the Watch not bring me word that the beast was out?"

William shrugged. "Some messenger arrived. It was dark, we didn't see her face."

"Her?"

"Him, I meant him. Slip of the tongue, Master Tunstall." William smiled, blandly.

"Then I suppose congratulations are in order, Captain." Simon still looked suspicious. Something was wrong but he was clearly not to be allowed to get to the bottom of it. He sipped his ale and held his tongue.

Gwilym walked up to Millie. He nodded at the boatswain who eyed him warily. "Evening, Millie."

Millie held her head high but she did not meet his eye. "Evening, Gwilym."

"Good party," Gwilym said. "You should have woken me and I would have come with you."

"I have to attend upon my mistress. Besides, Gwilym, it is not as if we have an understanding." Millie tossed her head in an unconscious mimic of Lucy. "You have made that clear enough."

Gwilym nodded. "I have to get a drink." He moved away.

Simon eased his breath out. Gwilym was a man in control of his actions but he was only human and affairs of the heart were always tricky. The secretary relaxed and enjoyed the party. The refreshment was good, a fine keg of "heavy," or strong, beer. Some of the sailors produced pipes and drums. They struck up sea shanties and the sailors danced around cutlasses.

"You are not joining in the dancing, Master Tunstall," observed William.

"I regret sea shanties are not in my repertory, captain," said Simon. "Could your players strike up a lavolta?"

"Why not?" asked William. He clapped his hands for silence. "Lavolta, let's hear a lavolta."

The musicians conferred amongst themselves before striking up a fast-paced dancing piece. Simon dropped his cloak and sword belt and held out his hand to Lucy. "Milady, if you would do me the honour."

"It will be a pleasure, sir."

He held his hand out, palm down at shoulder height. Lucy placed her hand lightly on top of his and he escorted her to the centre of the room. Sailors moved back to clear the space.

"They make a striking couple do they not?" asked the boatswain in William's ear.

William glared at him.

Simon pivoted Lucy into position as she walked around him. She removed her hand and the two faced each other three feet apart. He bowed and she curtseyed. Then he moved close to her and placed his hands on her waist. She laid her hands on his shoulders. "One, two, three," Simon said in time to the music and they bounced sideways.

In the lavolta, the couple take energetic sideways leaps with the gentleman supporting the lady, hindered as she is by her layers of petticoats and topcoat. The partners dance to the man's right and left, then they spin and the lady jumps into the air boosted by her partner. The gentleman then catches her in his arms and steadies her as she lands. They spin in each other's arms and repeat the process until exhaustion sets in. The lavolta was the most extreme of a variety of fast dances known as "haute dance." Fast dances were reserved for the young; they were particularly demanding of the lady. Older people performed a "dance basse" such as the pavane where the dancer's feet never left the floor.

Elizabeth herself favoured the galliard, an haute dance that also included high jumps and was only slightly slower than a lavolta. Elizabeth's support for haute dance was essential because many of the more extreme Puritan groups would have liked it to be banned as a lewd demonstration. The Bishop of Ely thought it "the horrible vice of pestiferous dancing" and accused dancers of "kissing, smouching, and slabbering one of another and filthy groping and unclean handling." Others thought the elderly bishop to be jealous.

Sailors surrounded the couple, beating time and urging them on. Eventually, Lucy called halt. "Enough, Master Tunstall, enough. I am quite fatigued." William thought she looked fresh. It was Simon who was exhausted. The couple repeated the bow and curtsey and Simon led her from the floor to claps and cheers. Sailors pressed fresh beer mugs in their hands and they drank deeply.

When Lucy had refreshed herself, William claimed her hand. As an officer, he counted as a gentleman. He thought his old mum would be proud that her son danced with the aristocracy in the Tower itself. William lacked the elegance of the slim secretary but he was fit and strong, and he had a sailor's balance. He threw Lucy around unmercifully but she was fast and tough and exulted in the dynamics of the dance.

"I have never seen the captain dance with any woman like that before," said the boatswain.

"Methinks, I have never seen lavolta danced better," said Simon, with grudging admiration.

Lucy soared into the air and twisted, landing backwards in William's arms. "I am beaten, milady. You might be able to dance all night but I beg quarter." William found himself holding Lucy in his arms when the music ended. She tilted her head back to look at him. "You are restricting my breathing again, sir," said Lucy, archly.

"Methinks the lady does protest too much," William said boldly. He released her after a fractional squeeze. Her lips curled upward at the edges as he escorted her off the floor. She's making sport of me again, thought William happily. She likes me.

Lucy downed a small beer. "My maid and I should be to our beds," she said.

'Oh, must we go, Lucy?' asked Lilith.

'Hush, Lilith. A lady has to know when to leave the gentlemen, so that they can make merry unrestrained by gentle company.'

"I will escort you, milady," said Simon.

"No need, master," said Gwilym. "I can show the ladies to 'is 'ighness' apartment."

The ladies left, Lucy on Gwilym's arm and Millie following. Sailors waved their mugs and shouted their compliments to Lucy as she left. William showed her to the door.

"She seems very popular with the Swallows," said Simon to the boatswain.

"And why should she not be?" asked a passing sailor who had overheard. "She killed the demon."

"Be silent, Reynolds," said the boatswain. He went to intercept the man but Simon stopped him.

"I would hear it all," said Simon.

The drunken sailor rambled on. "That demon ripped Fletcher apart but she hoisted the bloody flag, reeled the monster in, slammed it down, and gutted it with that little knife of hers. It was just like watching a man catch a shark. All on her own she did it, as well," he said, admiringly.

Simon went cold. It was Lucy who acted as messenger, Lucy who tracked the demon, and Lucy who killed it. That explained a lot.

"You stupid bastard," Simon said to William when he returned from showing Lucy out. "How could you let her go demon hunting?"

"Hold on," said William.

"Then to let her fight for you." Words failed Simon at this point. "What sort of cowardly knave are you?"

"You will retract those words," said William. "No doubt they were spoken without thought."

"I retract nothing," said Simon. "I name you coward."

"Then I demand satisfaction," said William, and struck Simon across the face.

Light through the leaded window woke Lucy up. The sun had finally summoned the courage to rise over the curtain wall of the Bloody Tower. Its rays lit up Lucy's face. Lilith noticed that Lucy's brain rhythms had altered.

"Good morning, Lucy" said Lilith, primly, "I trust you slept well."

"Yes," said Lucy. She opened one eye to look at Lilith, who appeared to sit on the end of the bed. "I slept extremely well. I take it that was your doing."

"I thought you might have bad dreams. So I guided your sleep," said Lilith.

Lucy sighed. "It occurs to me, Lilith, that everything I see and hear might be a play staged by you, while you do something else with my body."

"I could do that," Lilith admitted. "But I haven't and I won't. I would never do that to my only friend. I always tell you when I play games with your sense of reality."

"I know, friend demon. I wish yesterday had been one of your dreams."

"It was real, Lucy," said Lilith. She grinned at Lucy. "You are only looking at a projection now, of course. So do you like the dress? It is 1960s chic. This is what a young lady wore in the First Shadow world that I visited."

Lilith had a small unremarkable brown cap perched on her head. What captured Lucy's attention was the dress. It was decorated in large black and white squares but the white was blinding and shiny, more like fresh whitewash than clothing material. It was high, collared almost like a clergyman's robes but, even if it was discreet at the bosom, it was riotously indiscreet everywhere else. It left Lilith's arms completely uncovered. The skirt was even worse. It clung tightly so there was no room for petticoats and it was cut four inches above the knee to show nearly all of Lilith's legs.

"Oh Lilith," Lucy said, laughing. "You surely have it wrong again. Fashions do change but these are undergarments. Another dress would have gone on top. No lady would walk around just in that. I can see all your limbs."

"No, really, Lucy. This is walking-out costume. Nothing goes on top, but a coat in inclement weather."

"Heavens," said Lucy. "Men in that world must have lost their sight or be much more resistant to a woman's charms than here."

"I have an hypothesis," said Lilith.

Lucy sighed.

"No, seriously, Lucy. I believe I am getting somewhere modelling human behaviour. Human sense organs register changes. So women change their clothes to continuously surprise men. As you know, men have limited intellect and hence little insight."

Lucy nodded.

"So the dresses have to keep changing what they reveal and what they cover. You notice the neck is as high as the hem."

A knock sounded at the door. Lilith faded gently away.

"Come," Lucy said.

Millie bustled in with a tray. "Good morning, ma'am. I thought I heard you rise. I have brought you a little cold collation from the kitchens and some small beer."

"Good morning, Millie. I did not expect to see you so early but you are very welcome nonetheless. Come help me dress while I eat." Lucy bounded out of bed to her dresser.

"You have such a good appetite these days, milady. The master is well pleased. He always thought that you picked at your food like a starling." Millie placed the tray in from of Lucy. The maid combed the girl's hair as she breakfasted.

"Some starling," said Lucy between mouthfuls. "I have been larger than any bird for many years, but I don't suppose uncle noticed."

"You know men, milady, unable to see what's under their noses. I thought your brown walking dress, as you are not expecting visitors."

Lucy waved assent and worked at her platter like a trencherman. Millie busied herself laying out the petticoats and dress.

"It was quite a night, ma'am."

"I saw you with the boatswain, Millie. Now you have two men in tow."

Millie helped Lucy into her clothes. "Two, ma'am? I am sure I don't know what you mean."

"Hm, Millie. I have seen you cast eyes at Gwilym."

"He likes to keep his options open, ma'am, so a girl has to do likewise," said Millie.

"I expect the men drank much more after we left, Millie. Let's hope Gwilym and the boatswain didn't come to blows over you."

"Apparently, there was quite a scene after we left, ma'am, but it was the gentlemen who fell out," said Millie.

"Really, Millie. What were they arguing about?" asked Lucy, struggling with a recalcitrant hook and not really paying attention.

"I am sure I wouldn't know, milady," said Millie.

Lucy looked sharply at her maid. Millie occupied herself with the hooks and steadfastly refused to catch her eye. Which meant she did know but was not going to tell Lucy, thought Lilith.

Lilith felt adrenaline kick in. Lucy's pulse suddenly shot up. 'What's wrong, Lucy?' Lilith asked.

Lucy ignored her. "How bad was their argument, Millie?"

"I am not supposed to say, milady."

"Where are they meeting? You must tell me, girl," said Lucy, frantically.

"Gwilym has already gone to act as Master Tunstall's second, milady. But I am not supposed to tell you."

"You silly goose, you let me chatter on." Lucy seized Millie by the arms. "Where?"

"The Lion Tower, by the royal zoo. But milady, your dress is not fully fastened," the maid wailed. Lucy slammed the door and ran out.

"You can't kill him. You know that you can't kill him," said the master, shaking his head.

"The whoreson called me coward," said William. "What of my honour?"

"I don't care if he accused you of pimping your mother around the Vatican's brothels. You still can't kill Sir Francis Walsingham's personal secretary. Think of your family and Plymouth. We need Walsingham's support. What use is your honour when we are all impoverished?"

"Enough, I'll settle for an apology," said William.

"Stay here then while I consult his second."

"Gwilym," said the master. "My principal is prepared to regard the matter settled by an apology."

Gwilym looked at Simon while the master regarded the sky. It was going to be a nice bright day.

"Absolutely not. He could have got Lady Dennys maimed or killed." Simon stuck his chin out. "An act of a coward, still say I."

Gwilym sighed. "I expect you heard, Master. My principal refuses to withdraw his remark."

The master sighed in echo of Gwilym and stalked back to William. "He refuses to withdraw."

"Then there is nothing else for it," said William. "We fight." He slapped the master on the arm. "Don't look so glum, Master. A milksop pen pusher won't put up much resistance. I'll play with him for a bit, give him a cut that he can show off to his doxy, and then retire, honour satisfied."

"Remember your training, Master Tunstall," said Gwilym. "He's a sea fighter with plenty of experience of close-in fighting. Stay well back and protect yourself. Recall the first rule—stay alive. Only move in to attack if he gets careless."

"Do you think I can win?" asked Simon.

"Of course you can," said Gwilym.

"Thank you for lying," said Simon and walked towards his opponent.

The master nodded and strode to the side of the chosen spot. Gwilym stood opposite him. "Take your places, gentleman."

The duellists advanced with drawn swords and touched sword points.

"Gentlemen, fight," said the master, drawing the word out.

Simon backed off immediately, giving himself space. William advanced, making a series of exploratory cuts. The swords rang as Simon parried. He backed away after each of William's thrusts. Slightly puzzled William followed up. He launched a high cut to Simon's left. Simon parried and this time stepped forward inside William's guard. He moved out of the parry into a high cut. William jumped and twisted to avoid the sword, his battle-trained reflexes cutting in before he could think. Simon's sword swished across William's body, the point slicing through his shirt and leaving a thin line of blood across his chest. The lions in the cages roared, excited by the clash of steel and the smell of blood

"Hold!" said Gwilym and the master simultaneously.

"Blood has been drawn. Is your honour satisfied?" the master said to Simon.

"Yes," said Simon.

"Do you accept the result?" the master asked William.

"Damn your eyes, no," said William. " 'Tis but a scratch. I fight on unless I get an apology."

The duellists assumed their places and the master started the fight again. William was angry now and he attacked Simon with strength and vigour. The secretary was soon in trouble, being beaten back with every blow of William's weapon. Simon stumbled and William launched a vicious overhead blow. It beat down Simon's sword and bit into his shoulder. Red blood flowed.

The seconds stopped the fight again to check that Simon could fight on. The wound was superficial. Each of the duellists was offered the chance to withdraw but both vowed to continue.

"Best of three?" asked Simon to William, with a jauntiness that he didn't feel.

William came in swinging. He was angry and fighting to kill. Both men were tiring so there was little dodging or clever tricks. This was a straight slashing match and William's greater size and endurance told. Simon was forced back, foot by foot. A blow smashed Simon to his knees. William swung his weapon in a high overhead arc to build momentum. Simon raised his sword desperately but this stroke could not be parried.

A slim form slipped between them and the hilt of William's sword smashed into a small hand with an audible thump. Blood spurted down the girl's arm. "What are you doing?" Lucy cried. "How could you?"

"Sweet Jesu sake—" began Simon.

"You stupid, stupid girl. I could have killed you," said William. "Why are you interfering in men's affairs?" He said, "Oh my God, your hand."

She pulled the sword out of his unresisting hand and it dropped, covered in her blood.

'Control trauma, shut down peripheral blood vessels, and build up shielding in the right hand,' thought Lilith to herself. 'Increase cell division in damaged area, oh, and I must remember to activate the immune system to Clostridium incursion.'

"It's a matter of honour, Lucy," said Simon.

"Men's honour. Boy's games," Lucy said. "Don't you selfish bastards think of anyone else but yourselves and your stupid honour?"

The men were shocked into silence to hear her swear.

"Go on then. Kill each other. The scandal will point straight at me. Leave me friendless and dishonoured but why will you care? You will be dead when it all comes out. It's me they'll punish. What of your promise to me, Master Tunstall? How will you fulfil it when you're dead?"

She burst into tears and turned away from them. Lilith reviewed her subroutines. She had blocked all pain reception from Lucy's hand because pain caused the girl distress. She now saw that a degree of pain was necessary for Lucy to monitor the condition of her body. Lilith thought it a cruel method but, nevertheless, she considered that she had to let some pain through.

The men saw Lucy gasp and clutch her hand. Blood dripped from it onto the lawn. Simon and William rushed to her but she shrugged them off, turning to Gwilym instead. He bandaged it tight to stop the bleeding and helped her to her chamber, calling for her maid.

"Now look what you've done," said Simon.

"Me?" asked William. "You brought on this stupid duel." He stopped. "Do you think she will lose the hand?"

"No," Simon said. "Lilith will cure it. I have seen this before."

"I don't understand why the sword didn't take her hand right off," said William.

Simon was about to hit the man when he realised that William was deeply upset. "Honestly," said Simon. "She will recover. You saw her fight."

William had put those events of that night into a compartment of his brain that he preferred to keep closed. Now he had to open it. Packenham had thrown her across the square into a wall. William himself had been sore for a week when Packenham had but elbowed him but Lucy was dancing only hours later after receiving a much worse blow. He really did not want to think about that.

Simon took his sword and thrust it into the earth, point first. What he was about to do next burned his soul but Lucy's needs came first. He held out his hand to William. "Captain Hawkins, I know you to be no coward but a gallant gentleman. Please accept my apology for false words spoken in anger."

William took his hand. "I accept gladly, sir. We have shed each other's blood and the matter of honour between us is closed. We shall not speak of it again.

"What did Lady Dennys mean by your promise to her?" Curious, William asked.

"I promised," said Simon, quietly and carefully, "to kill her with my own hand rather than see her burn. She is frightened of the fire."

"To kill her? Are you mad? Why should anyone burn her just because she does a little magic? She is Walsingham's niece."

"Lucy isn't a witch," said Simon. "She's possessed, you fool. Didn't you notice? What do you think Lilith is?"

"When you said Lilith, I thought you meant her herb-woman," said William.

"Lilith is a demon. You watched Lucy and Packenham fight in the mundane sphere. In the Other World, whatever demon was in him fought Lilith and Lilith proved the stronger."

"Possessed, is she? Poor little girl," said William. "But the cross didn't hurt her." He mulled this over.

William decided this was an opportune to clear up another issue. "What are your intentions to Lady Dennys?" William said to Simon.

"Intentions?" asked Simon, genuinely baffled.

"You and she are close. Do you seek her hand?" asked William.

"My father was a clerk, as was his father before him. What you suggest is impossible. I have known Lucy since she was but a small child. I love her like a sister." Simon was not being entirely honest about his feelings but he spoke truly about his intentions.

"Then you and I must be friends, Master Tunstall." William slipped his arm inside Simon's. "For I intend to win her as my wife. I could not determine how such an enterprise might be done but now I see clearly. I shall free her of the demon and Walsingham will give her to me in gratitude. Come, Master Tunstall, tell me all you know."

Behind them, two of the lions snarled and spat at each other.

"Mad, quite mad," said Simon, but he followed anyway.

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