The Silver Skull

CHAPTER 5

fter Walsingham had finished speaking, silence fell across the Black Gallery, interrupted only by the crackle and spit of the fire in the hearth.

"The Enemy has been planning the assault on the Tower for more than a year," Mayhew said eventually.

Will now understood the depths of the worry he had seen etched into Walsingham's face earlier that night. "Long-buried secrets have come to light," he repeated. "Then we must assume they have the Key, or the Shield, or both, and are now able to use the weapon."

"We have spent the last twelve months attempting to prepare for the inevitable," Walsingham said, "listening in the long dark for the first approaching footstep, watching for the shadow on the horizon, every hour, every minute, vigilant."

"And now all our souls are at risk," Mayhew said. Upending the bottle he'd been steadily draining, he was disgusted to find it empty. "So that traitorous witch Mary was in the grip of the Enemy. Is no one safe from their sly control?" he added. "How much of the misery she caused was down to her, and how much to whatever rode her?"

"We will never know," Walsingham replied. "The past matters little. We must now concern ourselves with the desperate situation that unfolds."

"It is the nature of these things that the waiting seems to go on forever and then, suddenly, there is no time at all when the wave engulfs us," Dee added. "Yet fortune has given us a gift. The Enemy has lost the weapon almost as soon as it fell into their hands."

"For now. But they will be scouring London, even as we do. If time has been bought for us, it will not be long." With one hand on the mantelpiece as he peered into the embers, Will turned over Walsingham's account of Mary's execution. "You said the thing in Mary's head spoke of two queens plucked in arrogance."

"Elizabeth's father provided ample candidates," Mayhew said. "That is of little import. Of more concern are the actions of the Catholic sympathisers and our enemies across the water. Will Spain seize upon our distraction with this crisis to launch an attack upon England?"

"Philip of Spain is determined to destroy us at all costs and will use any opportunity that arises," Walsingham replied. "He makes a great play of English heresy for turning away from his Catholic faith, but his hatred is as much about gold. He is heartily sick of our attacks on his ships, and our constant forays into the New World, the source of all his riches."

"But war can still be averted?" Mayhew said hopefully.

Walsingham gave a derisive snort. "The spineless fools at court who nag Elizabeth believe so. They encourage her in peace negotiations that drag on and on. In the face of all reason, our lord treasurer, Burghley, is convinced that peace will continue. He will still be advocating gentle negotiation when the Spanish are hammering on his door. Leicester opposes him as much as possible, but if Burghley wins the queen's ear, all is lost."

"War was inevitable when Elizabeth signed the treaty to defend the Dutch against any further Spanish demands upon their territories. Philip saw it as a declaration of war on Spain," Will noted.

"Now the duke of Parma sits across the channel with seventeen thousand men, waiting for the moment to invade England. And in Spain, Philip amasses a great fleet, and plots and plans," Walsingham continued. "The invasion will come. It is only a matter of when. And the Enemy has chosen this moment to assail us from within. Destabilised, distracted, we are ripe for an attack."

"Spain and the Catholic sympathisers are in league with the Enemy," Mayhew spat. "We will be torn apart by these threats coming from all directions."

"No, this business is both greater and more cunning than that." Will turned back to the cluttered table. "In this room, we know there is a worse threat than Catholics and Spain. Our differences with them may seem great, but they are meagre compared to the gulf between us and the true Enemy, whose manipulations set brother against brother when we should be shoulder to shoulder. Religious arguments mean nothing in the face of the threat that stands before us."

Will could see Dee agreed, but Mayhew cared little, and Walsingham was steadfast in the hatred of Catholics that had been embedded in him since his early days at the defiantly Protestant King's College at Cambridge.

"There are threats and there are threats. Some greater and some lesser, but threats nonetheless, and we shall use whatever is at our disposal to defeat them." Walsingham's voice was stripped of all emotion and all the more chilling for it. "Barely a day passes without some Catholic plot on Elizabeth's life coming to light. We resist them resolutely. We listen. We watch. We extract information from those who know. And when we are ready we act, quickly, and brutally, where necessary."

An entire world lay behind Walsingham's words, and Will fully understood its gravity. Elizabeth had chosen her spymaster well. Walsingham was not hampered by morals in pursuit of his aims; he believed he could not afford to be so restricted. The tools of his trade were not only ciphers, secret writing, double and triple agents, and dead-letter boxes, but also bribery, forgery, blackmail, extortion, and torture. Sometimes, in unguarded moments, the cost was visible in his eyes.

"This war with our long-standing Enemy has blown cold for many years, but if it has now turned hot, we shall do what we always do: trap and eradicate them at every level," Walsingham continued.

Will watched the evidence of Walsingham's cold, monstrous drive and wondered what had made him that way. The war shaped them all, and never for the better.

"We must move quickly, and find this Silver Skull before the Enemy does," Walsingham stressed. He turned to Will and said, "All of England's resources are at your disposal. Do what you will, but keep me informed at every step. Take Mayhew here, and Launceston." He considered his options and added, "Also Tom Miller, a stout fellow, if simple, who has just joined our ranks. He has yet to be inducted in the ways of the Enemy, so take care in bringing him to understanding."

Will attempted to hide his frustration. Putting an agent into the field without time to educate them in the true nature of the Enemy was cruel and dangerous. More than one spy had been driven out of their wits and into Bedlam after the heat of an encounter.

"And John Carpenter," Walsingham concluded.

Will flinched.

"I know there has been business between the two of you, but you must put it behind you for the sake of England, and our queen."

"I would prefer Kit."

"Marlowe is your good friend and true, but he wrestles with his own demons and they will be the end of him. We need a steady course in this matter."

Will could see Walsingham's mind would not be changed. He turned to Dee and asked, "Have you developed any new tricks that might aid me?"

"Tricks, you say!" Dee's eyes flared, but he maintained his temper. "I have a parcel of powder which explodes in a flash of light and heat and smoke when exposed to the air. A new cipher that even the Enemy could not break. And a few other things that will make your life more interesting. I will present them to you once I have apprised Lord Walsingham of my findings in Bohemia."

Briefly, Will wondered what matter Dee could be involved in that was as pressing as the search for the Silver Skull. But the thought passed quickly; the burden he had been given was large enough and it would take all his abilities to shoulder it.

"There are many questions here," Will said. "Who took the prisoner from the Enemy and why? Were they truly rogues, or were they Spanish spies, and the Silver Skull is now in the hands of a different enemy?"

"And can we possibly find one man in a teeming city before the Enemy reaches him first?" Mayhew added sourly.

"Let us hear no more talk like that, Master Mayhew," Will said. "Time is short and we all have a part to play." As Mayhew grunted and lurched to his feet, Will turned to Walsingham. "Fearful that their hard-won prize might slip through their fingers, the Enemy will be at their most dangerous at this time."

The log in the hearth cracked and flared into life, casting a ruddy glow across Walsingham's face. "The next few hours will decide if we march towards hell or remain triumphant," he replied. "Let nothing stand in your way, Master Swyfte. God speed."