The problem now was money. Seven ships lay anchored in Plymouth Bay, one of them furnished by the countess. Five were provisioned and ready to sail, but two were empty. At least seven provisioned ships were needed to rescue Jamestown's starving settlers. Countess Diana's purpose in giving the masque was to sell her guests shares in the Company of Adventurers and Planters of the City of London for the First Colony of Virginia, as it was called.
Now she was at the cellar door, having trouble with the cats. They were full of smoked herring and did not wish to stalk green-eyed rats as big as they were. Instead of calling a servant, she called me, and the two of us got one of the cats into the cellar whilst the others escaped.
We went into the Great Hall, sat by the fire, and talked until noon about the theme for the masque. Some twenty years ago, Sir Francis Drake had sailed from Plymouth. He raided the Spanish coast and returned with goodly treasures, a Spanish galleon in tow. There was no better theme for raising money than to celebrate Sir Francis and his daring feat.
As we talked, firelight shone on the king's ring. Though the countess wore the ring, I could see the serpent feigning sleep beneath the tree. Already I felt the kingly power that James had breathed upon it.
Countess Diana, aware that I was absorbed by the ring, held out her plump hand. "How beautiful," she said, turning it on her finger. "The gold-chased band, the green stone, which I deem to be an emerald."
"A most lovely ring," I said offhandedly, in no way letting her know that I was determined to have it back. That it had suddenly changed my life!
FOUR
The day before the masque, King James, true to his promise, arrived at Foxcroft. His cavalcade stretched for more than a mile, from Dudley Woods to Foxcroft Castle. He brought good weather, a green silk pavilion, enough victuals to fuel an army, more than fifty retainers, dozens of lordly guests, and others of note.
From my tower, as the long cavalcade passed, I searched for Anthony Foxcroft. He was not in the line of horsemen. And when I did not see him among those who stepped out of the coaches, I hurried to Countess Diana with the bad news.
I found her in the Great Arcade, beside the fish pool, feeding carp with her gloved hands. She received the news calmly.
"If by chance you meet the king, do not question him about Anthony. He dislikes questions very much."
We were surprised by the appearance of Robert Carr, who came to announce that the king had gone off on a hunt but had wished to convey his greetings to the countess.
I had seen him riding in light armor, dust-covered, beside the king. He had changed his attire and now wore a red doublet with white ruffs and meshed black stockings. His auburn hair was curled in wavy locks. His skin glowed with health. Conveniently at his right hand he carried a thin jeweled case sheathing a Spanish dagger.
He was a splendid-looking creature. Yet I noticed at once that there lurked in his glance a hint of discomfort. He was worried. He was burdened by some dark thought.
As soon as Carr had turned stiffly on his heel and left us, I remarked on his manner. The countess had also noticed that he was ill at ease.
"I take it," she said, "that Anthony has been freed, against Carr's wishes, and is on his way. I hope something delays him—a pretty face or a game of cards—until Carr and the king have gone. Otherwise, I fear a troublesome time."
Anthony arrived toward the end of dinner. The countess had borrowed a dozen deer from our neighbor, the duchess of Wythe, and had set them loose in the woods, so when the king trotted back from his hunt he brought with him four fat stags, which were roasted over the fire pit. Royal servants in gold livery served them on trestles.
Having no taste for food, I found a place near the pavilion's only door, two embroidered flaps attended by guards, and waited. Anthony came during a drinking song, while horns brayed and all the men were on their feet. He parted the curtains and took in the scene with one quick glance. Carr stood beside the king.
A companion at Anthony's shoulder whispered, "There he is, in the red doublet."
"I see," Anthony said. "Who could miss him? Six feet tall, wrapped in a red, fur-trimmed doublet, a diamond sparkling in his ear."
"Now is the time to have a word with him," the companion whispered, "calmly, yet so all may hear."
"Yes, my friend. The time is right. I'll speak politely yet to the point," Anthony said.
I was on my feet at once. "'Tis not the time," I said, putting out my hand to hold him back.
He was surprised, not having seen me. He stepped back as if at an enemy's touch.
"'Tis foolish to come here at this moment," I said. "You're free by the good will of His Majesty. Don't embarrass him by words with Carr of any kind, polite or impolite."
Parting the curtains, I shoved him not so gently, past a throng of attendants, away from the pavilion. He turned an astounded gaze upon me.
"You can't be Serena Lynn," he said, lifting my chin, pushing my head from side to side. "Yes, you are, but what has come upon you? You act like a scullery wench."
"Nothing," I said. "I am just glad to see you and determined. Determined to see that you do not quarrel with Robert Carr."
Reluctantly, he picked me up and kissed me, then set me down with a thump. "You have no idea what I've been through," he said in a strained voice that was not his at all. "A journey through hell that you can scarcely imagine. My guide, Robert Carr, smilingly at hand throughout, pouring in my ear a stream of admonitions and ill-concealed threats, as though he were the king himself."
There was a starry sky above us and the sound of night birds in the trees. The last thing I wanted to hear in all this world was an account of his troubles with Robert Carr, but doggedly he went on.
"The Tower," he said, "is not a tower. It's a cave, albeit paneled in wood. The slanting roof crouches, parts of it so low you dare not stand straight, the rest a menacing shadow hanging above your head. It has no furniture, not a chair or a bench. The bare walls catch every sound, distort and throw it back at you in trailing echoes. Carr's words as he stood at the door and bade me enter were like stones tossed into a pit."
Anthony no longer spoke in a strained voice. It was the voice of an angry youth mindlessly bent, whatever the cost, upon revenge.
"It was a place of doom I stepped into at Carr's request. The floor beneath my feet seemed slippery with the tears and blood of a thousand helpless souls, so yielding that I found it difficult to walk.
"'Step in,' Robert Carr urged me. 'It's warmer within than without and more friendly than you would ever believe. There are even those, the stubborn ones, who wish to return and often do.'"
The singing and the bleat of horns had stopped. The pavilion was quiet for a time. I thought I heard the king's thin voice, then the singing began again.
"A clutch of candles burned in tall iron holders," Anthony said, "casting their yellow light upon the Tower's centerpiece, a wooden rack much like those we use here at Foxcroft for hanging clothes, though of larger dimensions. And, it has the means by which you can be strapped upon it securely, with a cunning system of screws to twist and turn and pull you slowly apart.
"I stared at the contraption, certain that Carr had no thought of using it upon me. I was there to be frightened, humiliated, given a taste of his power.
"My eyes having grown accustomed to the dim light, I made out two men in the shadows, alertly watching. At my side Robert Carr said, 'The rack is old. Carpenters are working on a new one. It's more elegant, the frame fashioned of pearwood, the straps brass-studded and made of cordovan. When you come again, you will also find brighter lanterns to light your way. The Tower is a bit gloomy now, don't you think?'
"'Yes, and it smells,' I said. 'But what can you do about that, since the stones reek of pain and blood? You would need to gather new stones, build a new Tower.'"
Anthony finished his story with a laugh. He seemed to think he had bested Robert Carr.
"You're tilting with a dangerous man," I said. "He sees in you a riva
l for the king's affection. Remember how James made over you on his visits to Covington."
"I remember well."
"'Tis better not to remember. Forget those days and stay away as best you can from both while they're here."
"I take your words for wisdom."
I believed him as I led the way along the dark path, away from the pavilion. No, it was not a belief that I held to, only a hope.
FIVE
The masque was presented the next evening, though it had been planned for the afternoon. The king and Robert Carr had gone hunting at dawn and hadn't returned until dark. It was just as well. The day was sweltering hot. A sultry wind blew from the marshes and the sun beat down from a coppery sky.
Countess Diana did well with the story of Drake's raid upon the coast of Spain. Two fighting ships, one Spanish, one English, she had placed facing each other in the meadow. The hulls were made of cloth, the cannon of wood, painted black. But from the terrace, where her guests would gather, the ships had the look of two furious antagonists, ready to sink each other with one mighty blast. The blast she had placed in her son's charge, no doubt to keep his mind from dwelling upon Robert Carr.
Although the king was in a sullen mood upon his arrival, having had poor luck on the hunt, Countess Diana asked him to open the masque with a few words about the starving colony in Virginia. She pressed him to remind the lords and ladies that seven ships and two pinnaces lay at anchor in Plymouth Bay, unable to sail because half of them were empty, and that, while they had lunched upon capon, calf's head with green sauce and bacon, herring pie and Florentine tarts, the starving settlers in Jamestown—Englishmen every one—supped on bowls of watery gruel, if at all.
The king had no blood on him, as a result of the poor hunt. But his clothes were in disarray and he was sweating. Instead of talking about the settlers' plight, he dove ahead to the time when the colony would be successful, returning great riches to the mother country.
"But the riches will not come from the growing of tobacco," he warned. "This I forbid. Smoking is a custom loathsome to the eye, hateful to the nose, harmful to the brain, dangerous to the lungs, and in the black, stinking fume thereof, nearest resembling the horrible Stygian smoke of the pit that is bottomless. Seven thousand tobacconists ply their trade in London, where men puff upon clay pipes, infecting themselves and the air. I may lock the door of every one!"
It was not a speech that encouraged those who planned to make a fortune growing tobacco to buy shares in the company of Adventurers and Planters of the City of London for the First Colony of Virginia.
Captain John Smith more than made up for what the king had lost. He had just come back from Virginia, suffering from a bad powder burn, and should have been in bed, yet he came down all the way from London. Walking with difficulty—a powder flask had exploded in his lap—he was helped to the terrace and held while he spoke.
In a stout voice, he described the conditions at Jamestown the day he left. "There's more semblance of order among the colonists than when I arrived in 1607," he said. "Less feuding with the Indians, brighter prospects for the English investor who wishes to enhance his funds. To purchase a share in the Virginia Company, I truly believe, is to purchase a share in the future of England."
Someone called out to ask if Jamestown was still a dumping ground for murderers, thieves, idle persons, the disinherited, a sink crammed with the floating scum of the world.
Captain Smith did not answer, but he went on speaking for half of an hour, though his voice fell to a whisper. When he finished, he called me over, and in a grand gesture before all those assembled, took out his purse and bought two shares in the Virginia Company.
He put a light hand upon my shoulder. "I understand that more men have signed for the voyage than can be accommodated. A goodly number of women also. But more are needed. Would it be—may I ask if you could be persuaded to grace our endeavors with your presence?"
Good heavens above! The very idea of four thousand miles in a bobbing ship, bound for a place, whatever Captain Smith said, where people lived on gruel, died from fever and Indian arrows, made my stomach lurch. Yet I did not recoil but managed a smile and a promise to give his suggestion thought.
"You would be an addition in Virginia," he said through the silky brown beard that covered most of his mouth. "Most of the women who have signed to go out are a dour lot. You seem quite the contrary. Lighthearted, yet in your eyes I discern a look that might well daunt the devil. You remind me of a dear friend I had in Jamestown. She was frolicsome, too. She liked to turn cartwheels and swing from trees. Do you?"
I shook my head.
"Her name is Pocahontas. It means mischievous, playful, frolicsome. She's the favorite daughter of Chief Powhatan. Once, in a friendly mood, I went to parley with him but was seized and my head placed upon the killing stone. Wildly, Pocahontas threw herself upon me and thus saved my life."
"She must have been in love."
"She was, and when time went on, I with her."
"But you didn't marry?"
"No, she was very young, a mere child. I loved her as a daughter."
He sounded much like Anthony Foxcroft, who thought of me, who treated me, as if I too were a mere starry-eyed child, someone too young to know her mind.
He passed a hand across his eyes. "I send my love to her with each ship that sails for Jamestown."
There were short pieces on the zither, then bagpipes in honor of the Scottish-born king. Between pieces, loud talk came from the English ship where Anthony was captain, and thither I saw servants dodging through the bushes with mugs of sparkling wine.
The countess had sent a coach to Stratford for William Shakespeare, and he had come, bringing his daughter Judith, a handsome woman with yellow curls, and his son, Hamnet. To music on the viol, he recited a tearful monologue composed by Countess Diana, which may be the reason his tongue tripped now and again. Only when he reached the part where the Spanish king, upon learning of Drake's victories, shut himself away and no one dared speak to him did the great poet seem at ease.
I am not certain, but I think he wrote this part himself. The words, "Seas incarnadine, where sailors' eyes were plucked by ravening sharks," sounded more like Shakespeare than Diana Foxcroft.
The battle between the ships of England and Spain was a disappointment. There were two feeble shots from each, then for some reason a cloud of black smoke rose from the scene and the cloth ships disappeared in flames. It was just as well. No one was hurt in the explosion and by now the guests were quite hungry.
As I left the terrace the king sought me out. He had managed to change from his hunting attire and now wore a white and black doublet and black silk stockings with white butterflies woven into them. Diamonds sparkled on his chest and his fingers.
Since the countess had the serpent ring, I wisely wore gloves because I knew he would look for the circlet, which he did.
Robert Carr, at his side, wished to know if I still had shares to sell. I had three, and he bought one of them. The king bought the other two.
The king said, "Captain John Smith, after his eloquent speech, went about among the ladies and some of the maids, trying to enlist them in the Jamestown project. Did he light on you?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"What did you say?"
"I thanked him."
"Splendid. We need you at court. The queen admires your handwriting—I showed her the invitation. She desires you as a secretary. You will help with her correspondence and numerous jottings. What do you say, young lady?"
"I am speechless, sire!"
"When can you be with us? In two days' time?"
"I'll have to speak to Countess Diana."
"There's nothing to speak about," Robert Carr said. "'Tis a command you've received. Kingly commands are not dithered over. Be ready for the day after tomorrow. The king will hunt until noon. Be packed by then. You may bring as many things as you wish."
"I haven't much to bring."
"Bring yourself," the king said. "I'll see to the rest."
But it was not Countess Diana I wanted to speak to. To have a friend at court, a royal secretary, would please her mightily. Anthony Foxcroft was free. I could never leave him, not even to be the queen of England. I hurried into the arcade, where I had caught sight of Anthony, to persuade him somehow to come to London with me.
SIX
The Great Arcade is Countess Diana's sweet conceit, her proudest jewel. It's shaped like two lofty crescents with fountains between. Artificial trees—oranges and lemon, pomegranate and mimosa—line the walks. Stuffed birds of all colors from lands as far away as Morocco inhabit the trees and sing songs when golden cords are pulled. In daylight a sun shines down through fleecy clouds. At night a moon, a different one each night, glides across the sky and stars twinkle.
Anthony was standing beside one of the fountains, a hand on his hip, the other on the hilt of his dagger. He said something to Robert Carr, who stood beside him, in a soft voice that I couldn't hear.
I distinctly heard Carr say, in a loud, taunting voice, "You made an awful mess with the battle scene. You look like a chimney sweep."
Anthony's face was smudged from the explosion. He did look like a chimney sweep.
"It's a great wonder," Robert Carr said, "that you didn't blow yourself up, as well as me and the king. I mustn't find fault, though. Powder's an unbroken horse. It requires a strong grip and two firm hands."
The moon glided directly above our heads. Silver light fell upon us, but only for a moment or two at most. In that brief time, it all happened. I saw it un-clearly, yet I saw the knife in Anthony's hand dart toward Robert Carr, who was moving away. I saw Carr's body servant slip between the two like a shadow.
There wasn't a sound, not a gasp. The two men were staring at each other. The servant lay sprawled between them, legs hanging over the rim of the fountain, his blood staining the water.
White clouds moved slowly across the moon. I heard the clatter of a knife upon the stones. I heard the soft grinding of the wooden cogs that moved the heavens above me. I saw Anthony bend low over the servant and touch his forehead. Behind me I heard Countess Diana's voice, then a scream—hers or a scream from someone else.