Mark Chadbourn - The Silver Skull

The nun never heard him until his hand was clamped across her mouth and another pinned her arms to her sides as he bundled her to the rear wall of the orchard. She struggled and tried to cry out, but he was too strong.

"Sister Adelita, I have no wish to harm you. I require your help," he whispered in fluent Spanish.

On hearing her name, she calmed a little and allowed herself to be pressed against the wall. Her eyes were large and dark as they searched his face, but steely defiance lay within them. She was beautiful, with the delicate bone structure of a noblewoman, dusky skin, and black hair pulled back beneath her head covering.

"I am about to remove my hand," he continued. "Please do not call out. I have no desire to overpower you." He allowed the hint of a threat to lace his words.

Once he had taken his hand away, she narrowed her eyes. "How dare you trespass on this sacred land? We allow no men in this convent."

"My apologies, Sister Adelita. If I could have approached you in any other way, I would have done so. But time is short, and matters urgent."

"You are English," she spat, identifying the hints in his pronunciation. "Your people were responsible for the attack on my home yesterday?"

Ignoring her, he said, "I must talk to you about lion Alanzo de las Posadas."

"My brother?"

The connection surprised Will, but he didn't show it. "He visited you here at the convent the other day."

Sister Adelita nodded, her thoughts racing. "Why do you want my brother?"

"I would know of what you spoke."

"No!" she replied indignantly. "Those are private matters between brother and sister. Who are you to ask?" She grew suspicious. "I will tell you nothing. You wish to harm him."

"Untrue. I saved your brother's life, and he mine. We are divided by our homelands, but I have only respect for him."

"Then what is your business with him?"

"A friend of mine is in great danger, a woman I have sworn to protect. She was taken by evil men who claim to be allies of lion Alanzo, but may be just as much of a threat to him. I want to save her, and take her home. If Don Alanzo said anything of her to you, please tell me." Will wondered how far he would go to get the answers he needed if she did not answer of her own accord.

Sister Adelita searched Will's face for any lies and what she saw appeared to satisfy her a little. "She is the woman you love?" A half smile ghosted her lips.

"No. She is the sister of the woman I loved," he said with such honesty she was taken aback. "There is little enough room for love in this world, Sister. It is a hard place, filled with duplicity, and violence, and loss, and we must seize our moments for comfort when we can, for they are stolen from us when our guard is down. The man I am now was forged by the loss of my love, and I will not see others go easily down that path. This woman I speak of ... she is young and filled with hope and all the opportunities for joy that life lays before her at that age. She deserves her chance to achieve them, and I will do all I can to ensure she gets it."

"Even though it might harm you in the process?" Sister Adelita pressed.

"My moment for love is gone. I am, to all intents and purposes, dead to the world. I have nothing left to lose."

"I do not believe that," she said.

"'Tis true."

He could see his words had touched her, but she still continued to probe. "And you believe this is the path God has chosen for you? A selfless duty to protect others on the hard, dark road?"

"I wish I had your faith, Sister. I do what I do."

She smiled tightly. "And there is no benefit in this for England?"

"I have spoken truly."

"I am sure that is correct ... of the words you have spoken. But there are many more unspoken, are there not? I know the ways of spies. Yes, I see that is what you are. I lived with my brother long enough to understand that the spaces between words are more important than the things that are said." Her voice hardened and her eyes flashed. "I understand the deceit that is set in the very fibre of your nature, and the lies you tell yourselves to do your job. I could not trust my brother. I will not trust you, even with your gentle talk of love and yearning hearts." She stared deep into his face and added, "However true that may be."

"Sister-"

"No, leave here now and this matter will be forgotten. But if you persist I will raise the authorities on you, and you will pay the price faced by all English spies found on Spanish soil." Turning without waiting for an answer, she walked back through the trees towards the convent.

For one moment, Will wondered if he should force her to speak. A part of him would do anything to get the answers he needed to save Grace; another part knew that he killed himself a little more with every step he took down that road. Finally, he relented. "Sister, I go now to the cathedral," he called after her. "If you change your mind, you will find me there."

She didn't look back.

Had he given up his best chance to understand the plans of Don Alanzo and the Enemy? Conflicted, he climbed back over the wall.

Most of Cadiz was infused with the bitter smell of burned debris. In every face, Will could only see the ravages of the plague; every woman reminded him of Grace and what she might be suffering. He was consumed by a desperate sense of time running through his fingers like sand.

Launceston, Mayhew, and Carpenter waited in the shade of a large, old tree in the centre of the plaza. In the smart but hard-wearing clothes de Groot had given them, they looked like merchants debating a deal before the start of the day's business.

"There is nothing for us here," Will said.

Launceston read Will's expression. "She did not talk. Then we should take her and offer her some encouragement."

"Torture a nun. Very good," Will replied. "Shall we then burn down the convent? Just to teach them a lesson?"

Launceston was unmoved. With a slight shrug, he replied, "She is Spanish."

"You inhabit a simple and soothing world. I am faintly jealous." Will surreptitiously eyed the first few townsfolk of the day to wander across the plaza, a couple of merchants, he guessed, a woman off to the market to buy food for one of the large houses. "We should not stay in the open too long. The cathedral and then to Seville."

"Why waste time at the cathedral?" Mayhew sounded drunk. Will had noticed he increasingly appeared inebriated and wondered if the corrosive despair of the Unseelie Court was finally seeping into him. That could make him a liability in the middle of Enemy territory.

"A man like Don Alanzo would not break his mission to visit the cathedral unless it was on an important matter. I do not see him as someone who is ruled by his religion."

"Show me a devout spy and I will show you a man about to slit a priest's throat." Carpenter's laugh had no humour.

"Where does that damned Spaniard plan to take the Silver Skull?" Mayhew continued morosely. "What does the Enemy have planned? And why are the Spanish-?" Catching himself, he flailed erratically.

Carpenter clutched his arm roughly and hissed, "Contain yourself."

"We should turn back," Mayhew said. "What can we accomplish here, apart from our own deaths? Even if we find the answer to those questions, we will never get near to the Silver Skull. All is lost here. We must find other tactics-

Carpenter drew his knife and kept it hidden in the folds of his shirt, but he pressed the tip against Mayhew's chest. "Your weakness endangers us all. Any more and I will be done with you."

"Leave him," Will interjected. "He needs some time to recover from the strain of travelling. Take him back to de Groot's house. I will go to the cathedral alone, and meet you back there. But keep him away from the wine."

Mayhew appeared devastated by Will's intervention, but he left between Launceston and Carpenter without another word, shoulders slumped in a pale reflection of the arrogant man who had survived the Unseelie Court's assault on the Tower. Will was frustrated that he had not noticed the decline earlier.

As he passed through the town, his unease at being alone in enemy territory was emphasised by the unfamiliar surroundings, the North African influence in the architecture from the days of the Moorish occupiers, the scents of exotic spices and unfamiliar blooms. The town had prospered from the riches brought back from the New World. After the panic of the Tempest's attack, the now-bustling market was filled with loud haggling over fish and vegetables. Beautiful women enjoyed the appreciative gazes of the traders while pretending not to notice the stir they created in their wake. Aromatic smoke drifted from the street-side food-sellers heating their charcoal to cook the seafood brought up fresh from the harbour.

Skirting the edge of the market, Will kept to quiet, shaded streets until he found the Plaza de la Catedral where the medieval cathedral looked over both the town and the sea. Painted white, it shone so brightly in the early morning sun that Will had to shield his eyes. At that hour, the large wooden doors were bolted and the cathedral was still, the plaza before it deserted.

Conscious of drawing attention to himself, Will retreated to the winding alleys that made the town feel like a mass of rat-runs. They were much cleaner than the streets of his home, and sweeter smelling. He had not gone far into the maze when footsteps echoed behind him, soon joined by two or three other pairs of feet. In the quiet around the cathedral, the sudden activity jarred.

Will ducked into a branching alley. One pair of footsteps followed. Now he could hear more feet drawing nearer ahead of him too. At the junction with the next alley, he peered around the corner. Two soldiers, swords drawn, searched every doorway and open window.

Doubling back, Will darted up another alley, only to find more foot soldiers coming towards him. A net had been cast and was drawing tighter.

He had been betrayed. Sister Adelita must have gone straight to the authorities and informed them he was on his way to the cathedral. He had looked in her eyes and convinced himself he could trust her, but it had been a stupid, naive mistake that might well cost him his life, and England its survival. Nathaniel had always told him he allowed women to make a fool of him.

The search party drew closer on every side, methodically closing off his escape routes. Will tested the handles of the nearest doors, but they were all locked.

He drew his sword, but knew that in a fight he would be overpowered within moments. As he searched for some route he may have missed, a figure stepped out before him.

He thrust his sword instinctively. When he saw it was Sister Adelita, he halted the blade a fraction of an inch from her throat. She swallowed when she realised how close to death she was. "If you wish to keep your freedom, you must follow me," she said.

"So you can betray me again?"

"If I had betrayed you once, I would not be here." Her eyes flashed.

Accepting the logic of her statement, he nodded and sheathed his sword. "Lead on."

Sister Adelita led him back down the alley towards the sound of approaching feet. Will briefly wondered once more if he was mistaken to trust her, but then she opened a rickety wooden door that led into a small, well-kept courtyard where herbs grew in stone troughs surrounded by alabaster statues. On the steps to the kitchen, a suntanned old man flashed Sister Adelita a toothless smile as she passed.

"The almshouses," she whispered, "provided by our convent for the sick and the needy."

Still wary that he was being led into some kind of trap, Will kept a close watch on the surrounding rooms as they moved through the cool house. At the front, Sister Adelita waited until all the foot soldiers had passed and then hurried Will out beyond the edge of the closing net.

"I should not be seen talking to you-" she began.

"I agree. Come with me-I have a safe haven, a house we have seized. The owner is unaware of our presence," Will lied.

Back at de Groot's, Will entered first and waved the Dutchman out of the back of the house so he would not be identified. Sister Adelita was so troubled she probably would not have noticed him. Clearly unsure whether she was doing the right thing, she clutched her rosary so hard her knuckles were white.

Launceston waited alone in the front room, keeping watch through the window.

"Where are the others?" Will asked.

"Mayhew has lost his mind. He began to curse and cry, and then ran off into the alleys. Carpenter has given pursuit."

Carpenter could have alerted the Spanish authorities-he knew of Will's destination, Will thought, but then he eyed Launceston, as unreadable as ever, who had also been left alone and had the opportunity for betrayal. Who could he trust?

"I must have words with Sister Adelita, who has proven a friend in our time of need," Will said. "If there is any sign of the soldiers drawing near, inform me immediately."

Will took Sister Adelita to a bedroom where they could have some privacy. She initially appeared uncomfortable at being in such a place with a man, but it quickly passed.

"I would thank you for coming to my aid," he said. "What made you change your mind?"

She gave him an honest look filled with such pain that he was taken aback. "I can see you are a good man, if misguided." She swallowed to damp down the emotion that was close to the surface. "We are all misguided at some time."

"I wish no harm personally to your brother, or to you," he said gently, "but there are bigger things at play that dwarf us all."

She nodded slowly. "This is not the life I would have chosen for myself. But someone had to make amends." She searched his face for a moment as she weighed her next words, and then grabbed his shirt with an edge of desperation. "You know of the night-visitors. I see it."

"Night-visitors?"

"Do not play with me! I am no girl!" Her eyes flashed with passion once more, and she pulled herself closer to him with the hand entangled in his shirt. "The ones who watch from the dark fields. The meddlers, the invisible hand that continually steers us onto the rocks, the tempters and the tormenters. The Fair Folk," she added with bitter irony.

"The Unseelie Court." He placed his hand on the back of hers; it was trembling. "They are our Enemy. It is my life's work to oppose them. A secret war has been fought between England and these damnable predators for a great many years, and now it is on the brink of becoming an open battle."

"You fight them!" Her large eyes glistening, she pressed herself against him so he could feel the shape of her body through her thin dress. "My brother forged an unholy alliance with them. Or rather Spain has, sanctioned by the king. We have grown fat on the riches from the New World, and cannot bear to lose them to England, and so we will do anything to protect our status. But the ends do not justify the means!"

He put his arms around her to comfort her, and she allowed her head to rest on his shoulder. He imagined it had been a long time since she had felt the comforting warmth of another's embrace.

"I fear for my brother," she said softly. "He is a loyal subject of the king, and will do whatever he is told in the pursuit of his business of spying. All must be sacrificed for the future of Spain! But God is greater than our country, and the king, and men, and God would not wish us to do deals with these devils to keep us in gold and silver, or even to bring the one true religion back to England."