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leaned forward and words were muttered swiftly into his ear, so quietly that
Kelley could not catch what was said. The hooded figure opened the door then
to let his companion out but not before John Dee had appeared in the doorway
of the reception-room.
De Vere? said Dee. Is that really you?
If Dee s identification was correct, Kelley knew, then the aristocrat was the
Earl of Oxford but it was his turn now to keep his face in the shadows.
Edward de Vere is dead, he said. Believe that, Master
Dee you have trouble enough at your door without knowing otherwise. If you
have a boat, you had best take to the river and row upstream, as quickly as
you can. Greenwich is a battlefield. The foxes moved to arrest Drake, but
sorely underestimated the number of men who would come to his defense, and had
to call for reinforcements. Foxe does not understand seamen, or hero-worship.
You ll not find any to stand up for you when they come here as they would
surely have done already had they not been badly delayed. Find a bolt-hole as
far from London as you can. Set sail for
France if you must.
De Vere if it was, in fact, de Vere did not wait for a reply to this
rigmarole. He slipped out of the door and vanished, while the hooded figure
closed the door behind him, then barred and bolted it.
Do not be alarmed, the hooded figure said softly, before pushing back the
hood to reveal a face that was sculpted in a human image, but seemed to be
forged in dull metal save for the eyes, which were red in color and made of
some softer substance. It did not look to Kelley to be a mask, but he did not
faint in shock. He had grown used to miracles lately, and everyone in Europe
had heard tales of talking heads of bronze built by
Roger Bacon and Albertus Magnus. Ann and John Dee looked at the artificial
face with as much admiration and curiosity as horror and dread;
only Brother Cuthbert seemed excessively distressed by the sight.
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You broke me out of Hungerford jail, Kelley said, regretting that it sounded
more like an accusation than an expression of gratitude.
Yes I did, said the metal-faced creature, its voice clear although its
polished lips barely moved. I hoped to warn the others before the Puritans
made their move, but I was too late to reach Drake, and might only have
succeeded in exposing Master Smith to greater risk.
Master Smith? echoed Dee, skeptically.
That is the name by which my erstwhile companion is known in
London, the metal-faced individual stated.
Kelley could not see Dee s face very clearly, but he took note of the shock of
realization that came upon it. De Vere s an Elizabethan, damn it!
Dee said. If it were not enough to have the Church Militant arrayed against
us, we now have the Queen s enemies in our camp.
You do not know who that man was, the other reminded him, its red eyes
glinting in the candlelight. So far as you are aware, Edward de Vere is dead,
and you have had no contact whatsoever with any kind of treason.
More to the point, said Kelley, who or what are you?
An ally to the creature who calls himself Aristocles, for the moment,
the other replied. I m a sentient machine an automaton, if you like designed
by the Lunars to operate in the toils of excessive affinity.
You might have heard my kind called by the name hardcore, because our
supportive skeletons are contained within our flesh rather than armoring it
without you re hardcores too, by that reckoning. You might think me monstrous,
but the Lunars would consider the two of us very much alike, intrinsically
horrid in exactly the same fashion: mollusks turned inside-out.
Bruno called out to Dee before the mathematician could demand further
explanation, and the dutiful master hurried back to his injured servant.
Kelley and the metal man followed him into the room. Brother
Cuthbert, who had stayed behind Kelley throughout the exchange, stayed in the
doorway with Ann.
Dee knelt down beside the servant, who was still conscious, although his
jerkin and hose were stained with a great deal of blood. Master Drake sends
his apologies, sir, the servant said, in a voice that was little more than a
whisper. He will take to sea, if he cannot win the fight on land, but he will
send a messenger to you, if he can, when he reaches safe harbor.
Aye, Dee murmured, but where to?
If Foxe can persuade Suffolk and Northumberland to send the
Queen s men in support of Field s, the injured servant whispered, the
dockland rabble will melt away like the spring thaw but the
Golden Hind won t be obstructed as she sails down the estuary. Once she s
gone, alas, the Church Militant will certainly come here. They ll not molest
your wife and children, Master Dee, but Master Smith was right to advise you
that you and
Kelley must go.
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If he is wise, the metal man put in, the man who escaped from
Hungerford with Kelley will go too, and this man too.
This man was Bruno, who was staring at the automaton as curiously as Dee had,
with the same surplus of wonderment over anxiety.
Kelley was more concerned about Ann than Brother Cuthbert, while
Dee s sideways glance demonstrated his anxiety for his own Dominican guest but
it was the most urgent question of all that Dee voiced: Where can we find
safety, now?
I cannot tell you that, the metal man said. I can help you along the road,
but I cannot tell where you might find safe haven.
If I could get to the Queen... Dee began.
No, sir, the hardcore cut him off. You cannot go to London.
It s true, Master, the servant said. It s far too dangerous. If you escape
by boat, as Master Smith suggested, you must not go downriver.
Even if you were able to reach the Tower, you d be putting your head in a
lion s mouth.
The Queen is an exceedingly clever woman, Dee told the metal man, and no
Puritan. She s perfectly capable of listening to reason.
If this were a matter of intellect and sanity, Bruno put in, you might be
right but it s a matter of fear and panic, the like of which I ve already seen
in more than one continental city. I don t know what resources your
Church Militant has to compare with Master Kelley s magic stone, but there
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