Free The Heresy of Dr Dee by Phil Rickman

interwoven.’
    ‘Oh,
please
.’ The trestle groaned as Cecil leaned forward. ‘I have no doubts about your ability in this regard. Which is why I don’t want you and your fucking
charts within a mile of the Queen at this time.’
    ‘I see.’
    Cecil leaned back, folding his arms, giving me silence in which to consider my situation. I recalled how, on our return from Glastonbury, I’d been summoned here and shown a pamphlet handed
out free on the streets. It was heralding a second coming – the birth of the child of Satan, the Antichrist, in the new black Jerusalem. Which was London, the fastest-growing city in
Europe.
    False prophecy originating from France, seedbed of the campaign to put the Queen of Scots on the English throne. I myself had been named as some kind of dark Merlin, canting spells at the
lying-in of Queen Elizabeth, pregnant with the bastard child of Robert Dudley. Elizabeth, daughter of the adulterous witch, Anne Boleyn. They were now saying that the Queen – thanks, some
said, to the magic and prayers of the French prophet and magus Nostradamus – had miscarried the babe. But the devil would not give in so easily.
    I said at last, ‘What would you have me do?’
    Cecil rose and put his robe back on, like a judge about to pass a hard sentence.
    ‘As I see it there are two approaches to this problem. One is for you to spend some time with your charts and return with the information that the stars at present are frowning on the
prospects for a union of two people born under their particular signs.’
    ‘Which, as I’ve already said—’
    ‘Would be unlikely, yes.’
    ‘Sir William, I spent more than a year teaching mathematics and the elements of astrology to Dudley. One of the subjects he showed most interest in. What I’m saying is that to
convince Dudley – and even the Queen, who’s far from ignorant of planetary movement – that the stars disapprove of their match—’
    ‘Or might better approve of them under some heavenly configuration not due to take place for… say, five years?’
    A lot could have happened in five years. The Queen’s infatuation might have lost some of its fire. Or equally it might be proved beyond all reasonable doubt that Dudley had not killed his
wife. Who could say?
    I shrugged.
    ‘If it was not the answer she sought… I’m far from the only astrologer in England. All it needs is for one of them to go to another and my competency would be called into
question. Also my integrity and all of my past work, and worse than that—’
    ‘All right. We’ll go no further down that road. Examined and rejected. This leaves the second path… from which you disappear.’
    Cecil rose, sweeping his robe behind him, and picked a single lump of coal from the scuttle with tongs and dropped it on the fire.
    ‘I mean on one of your ventures in search of the Hidden. We spoke of this earlier. Wouldn’t be the first time, would it? Were you to be gone even for a matter of weeks, that might be
sufficient.’
    ‘Oh.’
    I felt a momentary relief. For one instant in time, I’d thought he’d meant that it was to be permanent, and the air betwixt us had seemed, of a sudden, cold with menace.
    ‘
Do
you have a matter of, ah, science, requiring your specific and immediate attention?’
    ‘I don’t know. Maybe.’
    ‘Preferably in some place at least two days’ ride from London.’
    Dear God, this man thought he could move anyone around, like a chesspiece, to suit his purposes.
    Which, of course, he could. After a period when his advice had rarely been sought, Amy’s death looked to be putting him back where he was certain he belonged. And maybe he was right; I
could think of no one at this time who was fit to replace him.
    Replacing the tongs, Cecil went back to his chair.
    ‘Methinks this expedition of yours should begin at once. Would you agree?’
    ‘Sir William—’
    ‘Which means you won’t be lying at your mother’s house tonight.’
    ‘But my