Free Traitor by Rory Clements Page B

immovable, they stood outside Dee’s door to ensure none could pass. They eyed Shakespeare with suspicion.
    ‘I am John Shakespeare. I will sleep within.’
    Oxx, the bigger of the two men, shook his close-shaven, thick-bearded head. His name suited him well, for his shoulders had the breadth and power of an ox-yoke. ‘Not until we know for sure that you are who you say you are.’
    At that moment, Cole appeared at the top of the staircase. ‘All is well, Oxx, this is indeed Mr Shakespeare. He is to be admitted.’
    ‘I am the only person to be admitted. At any time. Unless you have my permission, Mr Oxx,’ Shakespeare said. ‘Do you both understand? No one. No exceptions. Not even Mr Cole here.’
    Oxx hesitated, looked at Godwit, then at their master, Cole.
    ‘Do exactly as Mr Shakespeare orders, Oxx,’ Cole said, though he sounded a little put out. ‘He is here on Queen’s business.’
    ‘Thank you, Mr Cole. Should there be developments before dawn in the matter of his lordship’s sickness, wake me.’
    Below them, in the hall, Shakespeare saw two figures walktowards the doors. A man and a woman. He recognised instantly the strange, beautiful woman from the coach. The man with her was slender and handsome, with light brown hair and elegant clothes. Her hand touched his arm. He turned and looked up. His eye caught Shakespeare’s before he looked away and pushed his way through the door with the woman in his wake.
    ‘What man was that, Mr Cole?’
    ‘Walter Weld, sir. He is master of the horse to his lordship.’
    ‘And the woman with him, what are they to each other?’
    ‘Her name is Lady Eliska. To my knowledge there is no connection between them.’
    ‘Is Mr Weld new here?’
    ‘A few months – since last autumn time.’
    ‘I would speak to him tomorrow. And I would speak to the lady. I wish to interview anyone newly arrived here.’
    ‘Weld has apartments beside the stable block. You will find him there unless he is riding. Lady Eliska has rooms in the house. She is a stranger to this country and a guest of the earl and countess. Most of the retainers have been with the family for many years, though Mr Dowty in the kitchens is quite recent.’
    Dr Dee was awake, his tall frame hunched at the table, studying by candlelight. He seemed to be looking at some chart or map. He smiled at Shakespeare diffidently.
    ‘It seems you have me protected like the royal jewels. I know not whether to be honoured or afraid.’
    Shakespeare nodded, but he was too fatigued for conversation. A fine mattress and bedding had been brought for him. He unfurled the mattress across the doorway, laid himself down and fell straight into a deep sleep.
    Shakespeare awoke before dawn. From a few feet away, slumbering in the great four-poster bed, he heard the intermittent sleep-sounds of Dr Dee: a deep, pig-like grunt of a breath followed by a minute’s silence, then another rasp. Each breath sounded like a death rattle.
    Half dressing in breeches and shirt, he lifted the iron latch of the door, carefully so as not to wake Dee. Outside the room, a low-burnt candle cast light on the two guards. Oxx was asleep on the floor but stirred instantly at the opening of the door. Godwit was awake and his eyes were sharp. Good. That was how Shakespeare wanted it: one must always be alert while the other drowsed.
    He nodded to the guards and walked down the dim stairway on soundless, bare feet. The first light of day etched the great hall of Lathom House in a grey tinge. From outside he heard the clatter of iron-rimmed wheels on cobblestones.
    Pushing open the main entrance door, he was straightway confronted by a halberdier in a dazzling corslet of steel.
    ‘Up early, master?’
    ‘I am looking for the kitchens or bakehouse for meat and bread to break my fast.’
    The halberdier held out his arm westwards, along the inside of the battlements. ‘Past all these wains. Third door along, master. They’re all in there working now. You’ll