Author's Notes: I survived Belize. Beautiful reef, lovely weather, only saw a couple of nurse sharks, the biggest danger of the trip was actually the coconuts, apparently this was a very good year for them and all the quite tall palms were loaded. This has gotten so long for ease of reading (and posting) I am splitting chapter 16 into 3 rather than 2 parts.

Blood of Avalon: Chapter 16: Comes a Dragon Part B – Something Wicked This Way Comes.

I was sorely tempted to take to the air since I could fly far faster than even Peregrine could sail but it had to be well over 7,000 miles as the albatross flies from my current position to London. I would end up crashing into the Sea, my strength exhausted at only a tenth of the distance. I could easily sail Peregrine the first 5,000 miles or so from here to the furthest navigable tip of the Red Sea in Egypt. I unrolled my Great Chart on which I had painstakingly charted the entire globe to the best of the knowledge I could glean from Earth, Wind, and Sea. More than 7,000 miles closer 7,600 to London of which I could cover about 5,200 on the Peregrine. I swallowed that was a long flight, longer than any I had ever attempted before. If I could maintain this pace then I would be close to Cairo in just under five days.

"That's not possible" Commodore Norrington barked. I was no sailor myself but looking at the chart he was trying to cover an even greater distance that we had covered on the crossing from England and it had certainly taken us more than 5 days.

"Improbable" Jack answered absently.

"And could the Pearl, the fastest ship in the Caribbean match that pace?" the Commodore sneered. James was being rather testy but to be fair it wasn't every day he had a ship sunk from under him and lost most of his crew only to be rescued by an Ellyllon he had thought long dead who informed him that the colony under his protection had been invaded followed by a sleepless night worrying about said Ellyllon (and he had undoubtedly had a very bad moment when the Governor was discovered missing). No, it certainly had no been one of the Commodore's better days. And his worse days always seemed to involve Jack so I suppose it wasn't surprising that he was getting a touch short. "Or do you not have the fastest ship in the Caribbean, Captain Sparrow?"

"Technically Peregrine isn't a ship mate, and me brother cheats" Jack waved to me "but the entire discourse is superfluous, the point is te discover what we can o' me brothers history not debate the relative merits o' a race built pleasure yacht and a galleon. But for yer edification, Pearl has made the same passage, without cheating, in twelve days and a watch. I'll wager that that wash tub o' yers that is currently resting in Davy Jones' Locker would have been hard pressed te make it in 40."

Commodore Norrington seemed to wrap his dignity around himself before nodding stiffly at me to continue.

I traced the map trying to figure out what route I should take through Europe. I was woefully out of touch and I had never been familiar with the eastern Mediterranean to begin with. Over 2,000 miles to fly, four stops at least one of them for a full day and that was just to arrive on my feet. If I needed to be able to DO something at the end then I would have to add at least one more. I needed more information, badly. I dispatched every breeze I could muster that wasn't already filling Peregrine's sails to Europe with all haste before calling up a fire which I extinguished. I couldn't expect to learn much since no one lit fires for heat in July instead I called the most faithful breeze I had ever encountered from its place in the t'gallents and requested that it proceed with all possible haste to my estates, demand a full evaluation of the situation from Lluniwer, and report back to me. With all that I could do set in motion I threw myself into Jane in hopes of learning a bit more.

It was so strange being Jane, usually I let her see through my eyes since I was uncomfortable seeing through hers. The world Jane lived in was so cold, silent, and colorless. It wasn't just that she was in a colder clime, I had stood naked on southern polar ice and never (much to Jane's disgust) felt the slightest chill. In all honesty the only time I ever recalled being cold was the night I died fighting the mardeth. I seemed to have a limitless inferno within me and being without it when I was with Jane made even the warmest July day frigid. I suspected that Jane was secretly glad that none of my magic seemed to transfer to her. I shivered; it was so bloody quiet with Jane I felt like I'd gone blind and deaf. Oh, I could actually see a little better (during the day anyway, Jane's night vision was truly pathetic) and I could hear the birds twittering quite clearly but Wind told Jane nothing, Earth was utterly silent, and there was no whisper of the Sea.

No sooner had I adjusted, well, as much as I ever did, to Jane's cheerless world, then Frances descended upon us whip in hand. Jane was defiant, I was worried. There was a crazed look in Frances eyes that reminded me far too much of Skeffington.

(Be careful) I cautioned Jane.

(I will not yield, Rhys. I will not marry him. I do not want to marry anyone.)

(I know, Jane, but you may not have a choice. And there is such a thing as a strategic retreat. Just tell her what she wants to hear) I urged.

(Give my word and then betray it?) she spat indignantly (You might see nothing amiss with lying and betrayal but I am a faithful Christian, my word is my bond. I will recant NOTHING. Take the pain so that I might defy her unto death) she implored. We had discovered through our link that pain shared truly was pain halved and more than once I had shouldered the brunt of her mother's temper from thousands of miles away.

(No, not this time) I said firmly. On this I would no more be moved than she.

Her anger rolled over me like a breaking sea. (So, even you will abandon me in my hour of need.)

(NO!) I retorted just as angry (But neither will I help you to commit suicide. She means to kill you if you will not yield and set Kate in your stead. She loves her better anyway and your sister will be quite obedient with your corpse as an example of the price of defiance. Don't give her the satisfaction of killing you) I begged.

(You would be defiant unto death) she riposted.

(Only for the right reasons) I returned (and we have both known all our lives that one day arranged marriages would be awaiting us. I hope that I have better grace than thee when my time comes to face my own.) I snipped.

Frances cracked the carriage whip, to her annoyance Jane didn't flinch. "Strip her" she barked to Jane's poor maids who were wringing their hands. Like most of Bradgate they lived in terror of Frances and her legendary rages. Everyone (and most especially Frances) would have been much happier if Frances had been born a boy. Rabidly ambitious she found herself thwarted at every turn by her sex until she became a twisted and hideous caricature of a human. Stymied for herself she had planned to live vicariously through a son, except, like most males of Tudor blood, all of her sons had died leaving her three daughters, two of whom she loathed. Mary, she at least pitied for her deformity, Jane she despised on a good day. This wasn't a good day.

(I almost wish to live long enough to see your own wedding day so that I might remind thee of thy fine words) she scoffed back just before the first stroke fell followed rapidly by a second and third. It was odd. Being battered myself only made me vengeful and angry feeling it happen to Jane made me frantic and nauseous. She just gritted her teeth and weathered the blows her mother laid across her bare back.

(Aren't you supposed to honor you father and your mother?) I asked. I could feel Jane's glare as the blows continued to fall.

(Did God command you not to marry Guildford Dudley?) I pressed on as Frances ravaged Jane's back (No, He didn't. He commanded you to obey your parents so long as doing so was not contrary to His word. Your defiance is not the act of a dutiful Christian.)

Three more strokes fell while Jane hated me more than her mother.

"Very well, I will marry him."

Francis paid no heed to Jane's surrender but Henry Grey for perhaps the first time in his marriage actually defied his overbearing harpy of a wife and caught her hand before she could apply the lash again. The shock left Frances gaping at him.

"Enough" the Duke of Suffolk snapped "You have won, she has yielded. You will not strike her again."

Fortunately Jane turned away before she smirked. Personally I thought it was long past time the Duke remembered that he was the one wearing the hose in the family. As an apology I shouldered the bulk of the pain leaving Jane just enough to remember not to overexert her wounded back.

(You could have done worse that Guildford) I reminded her.

(He's stupid and ugly) she sulked.

Stupid couldn't be argued with. He was, on the other hand, a good bit better looking than Jane herself though his elder brother, Eyes, (aka Robert) was the best looking of John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland's large brood. I retreated a bit from Jane and to distract myself from the discomfort lit a fire. I was getting soft, in my days with Skeffington I would have laughed at Frances' lash. Since the hearths would be cold I would have to find the right candle flames, no easy task and I was already deeply tapped maintaining Peregrine's breakneck speed across the waves.

As expected I found Gwyn in the kitchens of my estate first but the annoying wench wasn't paying the slightest attention to the fire as she concentrated on rolling out pie crusts. I cursed under my breath before gathering myself to 'flare' the fire. While commanding Wind and Sea whist sharing with Jane were all things I did nearly as easily and naturally as breathing I was beginning to feel the strain more than I liked (not only was I getting soft I was no longer used to pushing myself either) and 'flaring' was never completely safe. From this distance I was likely to burn my best bloody manor house down and since I was returning to England I might actually need the damn thing. If only the dratted girl would look up. What was the point of having gifted Old Blood servants if they didn't use their talents when you wanted them to?

In frustration I finally sent the flare through my own candle. I hadn't actually meant to set her skirts aflame but it certainly got her attention. Besides she was a good enough tanio gwehydd to keep from being burned.

She gave me an absolutely flabbergasted look before scampering off, one sincerely hoped in search of Lluniwer. Honestly it wasn't as if this was the first time I had contacted her since I left. Hmm, had it really been over two years since the last time I had sent any word to Lluniwer?

When my steward finally appeared with Gwyn in tow I gave the Shadow I had built a critical once over and could see no signs of decay. He gave me the proper bow of an Udd to a Prince of the Blood. I hadn't been certain, and still wasn't, if it was wise but I had revealed my true nature to Lluniwer just ere I left. I had healed his right hand, which had been perhaps the single most complicated bit of magic I had ever attempted but it had come off perfectly and the look of dumbstruck awe on his face had been worth all the late nights I had spent puzzling out just how to do it. When I had promised to review his case when I came to power in Avalon he had openly sobbed in gratitude. I had felt more than a twinge of guilt at the time since I had had every intention heeding the old woman's advice and bidding Europe adieu until it was time to take my throne. By all reports my father was fairly young, much younger than my mother and aunts at any rate and Lluniwer while not yet in his dotage had, at most, eighty years left in him. Then it had been an empty promise, now, well, we would see, after all I had been promised death so I might not be doing anyone any favors.

Gwyn was a very sweet and quite competent scullery maid. She was also dumber than any sack of rocks I'd ever spoken to. I'd told Lluniwer to have her taught to read and write now I would see what she had learned. I quickly wrote: Ned dying, plots afoot, gather all available information, breeze sent to collect your report, should be back within a fortnight."

Gwyn looked at the letters like a monkey asked navigate a course before laboriously attempting to copy it out for Lluniwer. She was going to bite her tongue if she wasn't careful and she looked ridiculous with it hanging out of her mouth like that. Beaming in triumph she showed it to Lluniwer who clearly could not make heads or tails of what she had written.

He sighed and mouthed "Just answer 'y' or 'n'."

It was a very good thing Cromwell had insisted I learn to read lips.

"You have learned that King Edward is dying?"

"Y"

"You are aware that Northumberland is planning to put your Lady Jane on the throne as a puppet after wedding her to his youngest son?

"Y" I could feel my stomach sink. Lluniwer was clever and he had command of my collection of Old Blood with their diverse but weak talents but if he knew so did others and the plot Northumberland was trying to carry off needed discretion beyond all else.

"I assume you are returning to England with all possible speed."

"Y!!"

"And that you have already sent a breeze that will be seeking a full report?"

"Y"

"But you want my feel for the situation, immediately?"

"Y!!"

"It is commonly rumored that the King is unwell but few know that he is swiftly failing. Lady Mary is among them and those loyal to her know of the plan to supplant her."

I cursed long and hard. John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland had been sloppy and Jane was going to be the one to pay the ultimate price.

"While there are a few nobles who will stand loyal to their chosen factions most are undecided but the commons nearly to a man will rally to Mary."

Lluniwer had just confirmed my own thoughts, so things had not changed much in the last four years, the countryside still clung to the Church of Rome despite all attempts by Edward and his Council to entrench Protestantism in England. I remembered the Pilgrimage of Grace very, very well even if Northumberland and his cronies didn't. By and large nobles roundly discounted 'the rabble' and most of the time the people would, indeed, grumble privately but accept the judgment of their betters. But they could never, ever be completely discounted because every so often a spark touched them off and when it did they could become an unstoppable force. The people followed every rumor about the royals rabidly and poor, downtrodden, abused Mary was their darling. Her kindness and compassion were legendary. The shabby treatment she had received at the hands of her father infamous. They would rise for her should she be denied her final hour of triumph. Only if she could be safely held in the, to the commons mind, impregnable Tower did this harebrained plot have any hope at all. And even then she would have to be swiftly put to death. Neither Northumberland nor Jane would have the intestinal fortitude to order Mary's death.

It wasn't bloody fair. I didn't want to kill Mary. I liked Mary. And I half agreed with the people. She deserved better than this. Born a pampered, petted princess (her parents had, of course, been disappointed about her sex but there was nothing to be done about that misfortune) she had been turned upon by her beloved father, declared a bastard, reviled, and abused. I knew quite well just how capable the Mouldwarp had been of petty cruelty and he had heaped them on innocent Mary's head. To preserve Jane's life I was going to have to kill kind, sweet Mary. There was no other way. If Mary lived it would only be a matter of time until Jane died. I flexed my fingers. I hadn't held a weapon, hadn't killed, hadn't even really considered killing, in years. I picked up a knife and flung it into the wall while ignoring Peregrine's protests. It bounced. I was so out of practice that, never mind hitting the target, I couldn't even sink a blade. I laughed bitterly. I had intentionally dulled myself and I had very little time to regain my edge. Except that I didn't particularly want to, and certainly not to kill a woman that I genuinely liked. Damn Ned for dieing, damn Jane for refusing to come with me and most particularly damn Northumberland for this fool's scheme.

So what orders did I give Lluniwer? It was tempting to order him to move against Mary. Murder left a mark on the enaid and Lluniwer was a murderer. I had no idea under what circumstances he had committed murder before but I had little doubt for the right price he would do it again but some things one simply didn't entrust to the 'help' particularly when the order had to be garbled through a half-witted scullery maid. No, best to leave my estates which were rife with Old Blood that Catholics and Protestants alike would like nothing better than send to the stake well clear of this mess. Besides I didn't trust Lluniwer.

"Watch and wait" I wrote hoping he would be able to puzzle that out of whatever Gwyn would write and turned to seeking Ned in earnest.

It took quite a while but I finally found one of the candles in his chamber. I swallowed as I watched. I didn't like Ned, I had never liked Ned, would never like Ned. He was an obnoxious, self-sanctimonious, little prig but as I watched him hacking his life away bringing up great, clearly fetid from the reactions around him, gouts of black blood I felt a great wave of pity for him. I didn't like him but we had studied together and if I had been in the room I would have tried to save him but I was half a world away and so instead I watched him die, slowly and horrib…

I had to stop reading. It was only when I had closed the journal that I realized that my hands were shaking. Mum had died the same way and watching it happen to the young boy King had brought every agonizing moment back as if it were yesterday. I fought to control my breathing. I was NOT going to cry like a wee lad in front of Jack, the Commodore, Mr. Not Cotton, the Governor, and my father about something that had happened half a lifetime ago. I was NOT.

A gentle but rough hand wrapped itself around my shoulder "I'm sorry, son, you have no idea how sorry that ye had te face it alone. I tried te find ye I swear I did." He pulled my in against his shoulder and there in the lea of his body where none of the others could see I let a few tears slip through.

When I thought I could trust my voice I straightened and said "I believe you, Da." I couldn't quite say that I wished that he had found me because I certainly never would have met Elizabeth. I might not have met Mallory or Jack either. I couldn't say that I was sorry about the way my life had unfolded without my father even as I looked forward to a life that included him. I cleared my throat and flipped the journal back open

The King is Dead, long live the Queen. I whispered as Ned breathed his last. I snuffed the flame and ordering Wind and Sea to keep the pace (but knowing Wind would be distracted within an hour of me falling asleep) I went to catch what repose I could.

(You look lovely) I whispered to Jane as I dreamed her day. While it had been completely logical that on a round world one side would be in sunshine while the other was in shadow once we had thought about it it had caught both of us by surprise as in the course of my journey our days and nights had grown apart. Of late we had both be come quite adapt at dreaming the other's waking life. And she did look as lovely as she ever would. Jane simply wasn't as fetching as I was. While I wouldn't be caught dead in a sack I could still make it look good. Jane, well even the best of cloths couldn't quite make Jane any more than plain but it did compliment her hair and eyes nicely and it was an exquisite dress.

(I don't want to marry him, Rhys.)

(Your King commands it) I didn't mention that Ned had died the previous day.

(The Duke of Northumberland commands it) she shot back.

(This wasn't his idea.) While a few breezes had gone astray, as was to be expected when dealing with air, vacuous fickle creatures all, enough had returned the previous day that I had as much knowledge of events as the best informed in London. I had no doubt that no matter how this turned out history would remember John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, as the man who tried to put his son on the throne. Truth was, he wasn't behind any of this, and wasn't happy about it either. Ned had ordered it and in spite of the fact that Ned was dead and Dudley was convinced he was committing suicide he was going to do his best to honor the wishes of his dead boy king. John Dudley was a far more honorable man than I would have ever given him credit for and I was honestly surprised. I had hoped that the plot would wither and die with Ned's death which was one of the reasons I had convinced Jane to yield. I had assumed there was a better than even chance the wedding would never happen. At the moment Jane was far more concerned about the vows than what would come after. She was mistakenly assuming that like many arranged marriages the vows would be exchanged today but the consummation would be delayed until both parties were more…comfortable with each other (which for my prudish Jane would be about the same time the inhabitants of hell took up ice skating). Frances and Lady Northumberland had very different plans. Guildford had been threatened with some damned uncomfortable consequences if he failed to perform tonight. I swallowed hard on my own misgivings; it wouldn't do to give the game away.

(Rhys?!)

(Steady) I sent encouragement and fortitude (Your King commands this) I sent again reminding her of duty while neglecting to mention that she was technically already Queen. The key word being technically. In time and with my help Jane might truly wield the power of a ruling Queen but not while her parents and Northumberland lived. I would have to 'fix' that but until then Jane would yield or suffer for it. Using Jane's eyes I scanned the crowd and noted the conspicuous absence of one of Guildford's brothers, where was Eyes?

I left enough of my attention with Jane to keep her settled and flicked my ears to the Winds reports seeking word of Robert Dudley, Bess's longstanding 'favorite'. She had been infatuated with him since we were eight, and much to my disgust and annoyance had included him in all our 'games' nearly to my own exclusion. It was with his coming that she had bestowed that most annoying of nicknames 'Ears' on me. So where was my 'rival'? I sniffed, as if, Eyes might be the consummate courtier, pretty, witty, and merry, a skilled dancer, passable jouster, capable rider, and a good enough singer not to embarrass himself but he was a bumbling idiot once out of the hot house of the court. I on the other hand was master of all (and prettier to boot).

Good God, Great Draigs, and all the little fishes in the Sea, his father had sent HIM to secure Mary?!! HIM??!! What was Northumberland thinking!? This fiasco's ONLY prayer of success was if Mary was securely contained in the Tower and Northumberland had entrusted the mission to an incompetent pretty-boy. If Mary reached the commons they would carry her like a tidal wave all the way to the throne long before I could arrive.

Damn, damn, damn, damn

(Rhys?) Jane had picked up on my distress. I shoved it back and concentrated on sending her nothing but staunch support as she fought not to choke on her vows to Guildford. She shuddered all the way to her core when Cranmer pronounced them man and wife. As much as she didn't wish to be married I doubt she would appreciate it if I swore to make her an orphaned widow at my earliest possible convenience. Jane didn't approve of my…casual attitude toward murder, it offended her Christian sensibilities. And she would probably want to keep her father, she was fond of the gutless worm for some reason I couldn't fathom. Fortunately for us both I didn't suffer (overmuch anyway Milady Latimer had impressed a few mores into me) from Christian sensibilities.

Throughout the brief feast that followed I kept up the same kind of soothing patter that worked such wonders on skittish horses as bit by bit I put my own plan for tonight into action subtly displacing Jane as her father equally discretely gave her ever more potent drinks. Henry Grey, Duke of Suffolk, pitied his eldest. Not enough to defend her from his wife or to put himself out in any way but as long as it required no particular effort on his part and was unlikely to cause him difficulties he was more than willing to give her small indulgences. He was clearly of the opinion that being a few sheets to the wind would make what was going to happen later to his prudish daughter a bit easier. I had my own somewhat more aggressive plans and I certainly didn't want to be sober for this either to I threw myself into distracting Jane from just how drunk she was becoming.

Just before midnight Frances and Lady Northumberland made their move flanked by Guildford whose comely (but disgustingly insipid) features where a mix of terror and anticipation. While he was clearly nervous he was just as clearly (a little too clearly for my comfort) eager to shed his virgin status. Personally I wished that his father had been a bit less of a dutiful Christian and had hired a whore to give his very randy son a few lessons. Tonight (or morning depending on how you viewed it) would probably be less than completely pleasurable even if both parties had been eager. Jane just blinked at them in confusion far too piffled to think. This was as good a moment as any and I deftly 'switched' us and shivered violently. While we were frequently 'in' each others bodies I had never been this truly in Jane's and never alone. I prayed, des-per-ate-ly, that I hadn't just truly and ir-rev-o-cably trapped myself in her flesh because I had ab-so-lutely NO desire to live the rest of my life as a dynol and cer-tain-ly not as a girl. I gathered my nerve since I was now far too drunk to gather my wits. In the end Frances and Lady North-umber-land had had to all but carry me to the bridal bed. I reminded myself that this was part of the plan. I wasn't Jane even if I had trapped myself in her flesh. I knew that I would have to submit, and submission wasn't exac, exa, Bugger all, I wasn't good giving in. I would fight and I was too good at fighting not to do serious dam-age even as Jane. Which she would pay for later so best to be so drunk that I was comp, comp, really uncoordi, unco, helpless. I knew I should simply yield as they started to undo all the stays and laces of my, of Jane's wedding finery (this wasn't me, not really, not me at all) but I couldn't quite man-age to give in so easily and Frances laughed as she caught my, NOT mine, Jane's arms.

I skipped to the next page since I had absolutely no desire to watch what amounted to a rape and for once there was no protest of any kind from Elizabeth.

I curled up a little tighter on the bed telling myself the shivering was just a response to the fact that I was always cold when I was with Jane. It was so dark and quiet. I didn't particularly care for either as I listened to the scurry of rats and chirping of a few frogs which was all that Jane's dynol ears could hear. I had never in my life felt as utterly helpless as I did now. Once Guildford was… finished, and Frances was done gloating I had tried to restore myself to my own flesh without the least success. That had been hours ago. Even Jane's dynol eyes were beginning to pick out the first signs of impending dawn. Trapped, I had trapped myself in Jane's frail body. Helpless, never in my life had I felt so utterly helpless and weak. The shivers became shudders no matter how hard I fought to suppress them. All of the power had always resided within me and even though I had known my power didn't transfer when I was with Jane I had foolishly assumed that I could switch us back on my own whim. Clearly not. I was ensnared in a web of my own weaving until Jane saw fit to contact me. Except Jane didn't like magic, what would I do if she never figured out the link? Or worse changed her mind with all that power suddenly at her fingertips and abandoned me here to her fate? I swallowed hard choking on near blind panic. I was a Prince of Avalon and princes do not panic. Except I wasn't a prince at the moment and every minute that passed came closer to completely unmanning me (as if I wasn't already unmanned enough stuck in a GIRL'S body). Panicking is sloppy I reminded myself very firmly. Having hysterics wasn't going to do a bit of good. I wrapped Jane's arms even more firmly around her knees. Panicking wouldn't help but I wasn't certain it would hurt at this point. The sky was getting lighter in the east. I tried to concentrate on the sounds of birds greeting the day as a distraction from the unnatural quiet in Jane's body. I started a little at a gentle touch.

"My apologies, milady" ah, only Mrs. Ellen tucking a blanket around my (JANE's) shoulders. Too bad the chill that nearly had Jane's teeth chattering wouldn't be dispelled by a mere blanket. I wanted my own body back posthaste. With a heavy sigh Mrs. Ellen sat on the bed. I wished vainly that she would leave but I was supposed to be Jane, and Jane would never send Mrs. Ellen away with a harsh word. This was Jane's mother not the bitch Frances that bore her. This was the woman who had suckled her, tended her minor aches and bruises, and dressed her her entire life. She ran a gentle hand down Jane's arm. Jane would not have flinched so I did not. And as any warrior or dancer will tell you bodies have memories that have nothing to do with the mind. Jane's body knew Mrs. Ellen would never hurt her and it rather thoroughly betrayed me by relaxing and being soothed. I undoubtedly could have fought but Jane wouldn't have and I was supposed to be Jane. It reminded me a bit of Argellion that night with the mardeth. I rather missed Argellion even if I wasn't particularly keen on being petted by Mrs. Ellen like some agitated cat.

"It's always hardest the first time lass."

Well, one sincerely hoped Guildford's aim would improve. I was more accurate with a long bow than Guildford was with his 'lance'. If it wasn't Jane's body that would bear the punishment I would suggest some serious practice on a 'tiltyard'. Come to think of it it was still a good idea so long as the 'yard' in question belonged to some lady of the night who was used to being hard ridden. I wasn't certain which ached more Jane's head or…elsewhere. Just as well she wasn't back yet, I told myself as another shiver I couldn't seem to suppress wracked Jane's body. It had been a very good thing I had been too drunk to even think much less speak clearly last night or I would NOT have been able to resist saying something truly scathing to Guildford that would not have led to Jane's domestic bliss.

"Sh, sh, love" I let Mrs. Ellen cradle me because Jane would and the body absolutely insisted that this was a good thing. I wanted to scoff but my (JANE's) head ached too abominably. I really, really missed my ability to dispel hangovers with a thought.

"Wait a bleeding minute" Jack barked "Whelp did ye just say that me brother has the ability te instantly dispel a hangover?"

I glanced down at the journal rather than face Jack's distinctly dragon like glare "Yes, that is what it says."

Jack's ire turned in Mallory's general direction "So kind o ye te share" he growled before waving at me to continue with a scheming look that I knew entirely too well from Elizabeth.

Despite my best efforts I was melting under Mrs. Ellen's ministrations and Jane's body curled up against her as I drifted into a peaceful asleep.

(Rhys?) the brush of Jane's awareness was so uncertain I thought for a moment it was a real dream instead of us meeting in that strange in between where we so often shared each others lives. Thank God and the Draigs for Mrs. Ellen because I probably would have clawed my way back into my body in a fit of hysterics (which simply was NOT proper behavior for a Prince of Avalon no matter how trying the circumstances) instead I managed to greet Jane with at least some measure of my usual aplomb. She, on the other hand nearly threw herself at me.

(WHAT HAPPENED?!?!)

(Northumberland and your mother decided that the consummation must immediately follow the wedding.)

A brief moment of confusion followed by a wave of anger far more in keeping with my temper than her own.

(You did this INTENTIONALLY)

(Of course) I began only to have her 'shove' me hard.

(Why?!)

(To spare you) I answered simply since she didn't seem to be in the mood for long discussion. I was personally too overjoyed at the prospect of getting my own body back to be terribly annoyed at her ingratitude.

(And did it ever occur to you to ASK if I wished to be spared?)

I nearly snapped 'there was no need to' but thought better of that particular response before uttering it (We both know you did) I said instead. (Can you look me in the eye as an honest Christian woman and deny it?) I continued softly.

She swayed as my words sank in (We are now truly bound as one flesh until death do us part.) She glared at me (Will you 'spare' me every night?)

I would honestly rather have all of my teeth extracted on a daily basis and I could feel my guts turning to water. Not because of Guildford, that was merely a trifling annoyance, but in terror of being trapped again in Jane's powerless, dynol flesh. I tossed my head up I was the Prince of Avalon and I would NOT be ruled by fear.

(If you wish it, yes. I told you before I would do anything in my not inconsiderable power to shield you from harm.)

A long silence then (You slept with my husband) followed by a metaphorical slap.

(Well, certainly not because I wanted to) I shot back. I was fairly certain I hadn't deserved that.

(That's not the point) she yelled.

(Well someone had to and we've already established that you didn't want to) I said trying to be reasonable.

Her reply was an inarticulate shriek. Sheesh, what was her problem?

(You STOLE my body!!)

(Borrowed, with every intention of returning it) Absolutely, positively, and as soon as bloody possible I added to myself as I restrained a shiver.

(Borrowing without permission IS stealing Rhys!)

(But I had no intention of keeping it)

She just blinked at me no less angry but merely stunned beyond words.

I debated which was wiser holding my tongue or plunging into the silence? (I don't understand why thou art distressed. Thou desired most ardently that he should never layest so much as a hand upon thee. I merely did as I thought best to fulfill thine desire.)

From the look on her face silence would have been the better option. Ah, well, not even my powers could call back words already spoke or actions already taken.

(Sometime, Rhys, I forget that you were raised by a master torturer and trained by a man with no conscious.) Sorrow apparently had supplanted anger for them moment. Women were very moody. (Rhys, just swear to me that you will never again do anything to me without first discussing it and obtaining my full consent.)

(But Jane)

(SWEAR IT!)

I drew a breath and very solemnly said (I so swear).

(Good) she snapped and sailed back into her own flesh slamming a metaphysical 'door' in my face. I frowned; I still didn't bloody know what she was so miffed about. I shrugged content for the moment to be back where I belonged. I blinked a few times as the Peregrine took shape around me.

(RHYS IS THAT YOU?!) Peregrine sounded even more upset than Jane, which was a pretty good trick since Jane had been quite put out.

(There's no need to shout. I'm right here)

Peregrine seemed to sag in relief (Does that mean she's gone?)

(For now. What did she do?)

(For starters she's been crying for hours, the Winds are having fits and Sea was about to drown her.)

Crying? I don't cry. So far as I had ever been able to determine I was incapable of crying. I just didn't DO it. It wasn't a matter of someone having once beaten it out of me tears simply never had come, had never even threatened it. Curious I went to one of the many mirrors in my cabin and with a strange sense of disorientation looked at the tear tracks on my cheeks. I gingerly gathered some of the salty moisture off of my face and rolled it between my fingers. Clearly there was nothing wrong physically and while I had no real desire to have to fight off a bad case of the waterworks I did have to wonder why exactly I never cried?

You know, Will, even with a few decades on my hands and not much else to do I still haven't figured out why I don't weep. I suppose we all have our little quirks.

It wasn't in writing but I could feel Mallory-in-the-carchar try to shift a little even though he knew it was futile. My father made another swift exit. He flexed his fingers since that was a close to stretching as his prison would allow and ran them along the seemingly seamless rim of the carchar, knowing that there was one no matter how it appeared.

Damn shame they took Risnca before they stuffed me in here Will. Nimrais would have at least had some suggestions on how to break these,

I knew then that he had tried and failed on numerous occasions to summon the blade.

Give me but a single breath free of these sigils and my sire's grochmyns and I will be king in the next. Pity that my sire while stark raving mad is neither sloppy nor stupid.

I could feel he squash the temptation to test himself against the bloody box's seals again. He would need every scrap of strength for the visitors whose approach he could already sense.

Best that I get as much as I can set down before my 'guests' arrive. So, quirks, you know, Will, it's odd I don't particularly mind being tortured for a good cause. Don't get me wrong I don't LIKE being tortured but it doesn't particularly bother me either.

The slightest of shivers belied what was on the page.

At least at the hands of dynol. My sire is very, very good. Better than Ivan, Skeffington, and the entire bloody Inquisition combined. Damn Draig's pride, apparently he believes in being the best at what he does as much as I do. I concede my grandsire knew what he was about in his choice of instructors I endured, I endure, but it was a nearer run thing than I will ever be comfortable with.

I could taste him forcing memories of his father aside.

I won't put what was done in those two dark years on these pages Will, I won't give him anything I don't have to. If he intends to reft my heart, soul, and mind from me then the first thing his little pet monsters are going to get is those memories and I sincerely hope they gage on them.

A sigh, and the equivalent of a mental shake as he seemed to withdraw a little. Clearly it was easier to say than to do.

I do on the other hand find playing the whore…annoying, or perhaps insulting is nearer the mark. It shouldn't matter, it's only bodies. Oh, if you want to be strict about it it is more than that since it colors the enaid but then so does a long session with any reasonable competent torturer. Jane's God alone knows what scars that piece of filth that sired me has left.

Another long shiver as he tightened his muscles.

I do rather wish though that Gwyla had minded her own business that last night. Since I'm trapped in here with nothing but my memories and the nastiest cyfae that my sire can throw at me it would be nice to have one pleasant memory of an encounter. Of course at the time I was trying very hard to bury some other memories in willing flesh. It had always seemed to work for Henri.

He shook off more than a bit of melancholy. And Jack offered "Excellent idea. We'll just have te find ye a girl posthaste."

But I digress, and they will be here anon. For only two was I ever willing to play the whore and both of them promptly got me killed. Ungrateful gits. At least there was a certain…innocence? to Guildford. I never liked him. He reminded me too much of an overly enthusiastic puppy but he didn't deserve to die any more than Jane did and in the end he was just as much a pawn as she. Now, Henry de Valois and his not so merry men, that was an entirely different affair.

For just an instant I had an impression of jingling bells and a very unhappy Mallory before that was very firmly suppressed.

They can have that memory too and good riddance. Henry de Valois had some damnedably sick tastes. Enough to say that for Heri's sake I was willing to 'take on' him and four of his favorites. The taste would be a bit less bitter if it had been truly necessary. Henry could have been long away before I had to

Another significant pause.

go that far if only he hadn't been slaking his own lust with some damn chamber maid. I really hope she was bloody worth it Henri!

I would have expected the scene to have been with Jane again but to my surprise I was looking down at a chubby little boy.

Little Louis chortled fat little fingers stretching for the jeweled jousting knight I was galloping in front of him. It had taken a bit of work but the toy was perfect, tough enough to weather all the shocks that a growing boy's (particularly one of Henri's sons. I'd entertained enough of his bastards through the years to know they were a rough and tumble lot. For all that Louis was the Dauphin I knew Henri would insist that boys should be boys.) enthusiasm could inflict without chipping, light enough not to weary young arms, but with each and every piece a flawlessly formed and carved gemstone all with a separate blessings on the owner bespelled into them. It might be the finest piece of gweath llaw I had ever made and it was so intricately formed that bordered on being a lledrith. A suitable offering for the boy who, by all plans Henri and I had ever made prior to that disastrous day in '98, should have been my godson. I let the toddler claim his prize before crossing to the window. Henri's servants had clearly been busy in the Chateau St-Germain-en-Laye's gardens. They were a complete and utter mess though if I was reading Henri's intent correctly by the time the boy behind me was in his teens they would be spectacular. Much like France herself under Henri's sure hand. Henri had always wanted to build, because as he frequently said, 'what is built endures'. It was just like Henri to build bridges and plant trees.

I took a deep, steadying breath as I saw his horse round the gatehouse and growled low in my throat. No escort. Damn him, stupid suicidal FOOL, I swore if he got himself assassinated I was going to raise him from the dead just so I could have the satisfaction of killing him myself. Anuion firmly in the guise of Duc de Sully rode discretely behind him. At least he had that much and if Anuion had been negligent I would have given him a lesson he would not have easily survived. I did a quick sweep of the grounds satisfied that everyone but myself and little Louis was safely napping. Speaking of safe I went back to the boy. One could never blindly trust toddlers to stay put and while I had certainly been capable of taking care of myself at that age every other toddler I have ever seen had a unique knack for attempted suicide.

If I was any judge Louis was far more his mother's son than his father's or at least more a de Medici than a Bourbon. A sullen red that reminded me of nothing so much as blood gone tacky was the predominate color of his enaid but there was enough flash and verve that I hoped he would outgrow the unfortunate shade. I was almost glad that I would be going to Avalon soon because this boy was NOT going to be a joy to raise. Actually the years of dealing with my moods might stand Henri in good stead because unless I very much missed my guess this boy was going to be far more like me in disposition than his free-spirited, magnanimous father. I could already see hints of the serious, intense, temperamental, grudge bearing soul the boy was going to have.

At a whispered request the stone became translucent so that I could follow Henri's progress. He stopped dead on the threshold, hand dropping to the blade at his belt. He had ridden here in a panic upon being informed that his heir had taken suddenly and potentially fatally ill. I had been keeping an ear cocked for just such a moment both because I had no intention of letting Henri lose any of his children if there was anything I could do about it and because after several months of mulling (or brooding as Peregrine was wont to call it) over the disaster in September of '98 I wanted a chance to plight my case. Perhaps Henri's reaction was simply shock at discovering my true nature. Surely a man as genuinely forgiving and just as Henri wouldn't really condemn me out of hand?

I could feel how Henri's condemnation had eaten at him, no matter how much he denied it mattered to himself, how much he needed Henri's regard back.

He stopped and tried to shake one of the many chamber maids awake calling her by name (how he kept all the names of his lovers straight was beyond me. I had noted when I sang the chateau's staff to sleep that he had managed to sleep (or more accurately not sleep) with the entire female populace down to the undergroom's wife). How exactly does THAT fit in with being the Most Christian King? I growled to myself angry about having been so easily damned and cast aside. I was reasonably certain fine upstanding Christians weren't supposed to cheat at cards either. Bloody hypocrite. Henri owed me everything he owned including his life. Technically he owed allegiance to me as his liege-lord how dare he turn on me?

The boy in the cradle wasn't the only one in the room given to holding grudges but I was capable of being magnanimous too, I could have let the boy die, I could have destroyed France's people as punishment for the treachery of their king as Angnar had urged me to do, I could have condemned Henri to the Bradwr Arswyd, the Traitor's Horror, as I had his predecessor Henry II. But I had no intention of raising my hand against Henri, we would work this out and part as friends.

He quickly checked the girl's pulse and discovering it strong breathed a sigh of relief "What do you want Draco?" he snarled.

Not the most auspicious of attitudes but I would persevere. Henri was perfectly capable of being reasonable. He took his responsibilities as a father very seriously and hearing that Louis was ill would have had him quite distressed. Nimrais just snorted at my optimism.

"Just to talk" I had Wind reply.

"What have you done to my people, demon?"

"Ellyllon" I retorted "And they are as much my people as yours. They are merely sleeping and will wake when I depart."

He folded his arm "Are you going to show yourself or am I to merely speak to the air?"

"I don't want to leave Louis unattended – why don't you join us?"

Henri's eyes widened and he bolted for the room. Now that was insult piled high on injury. As he flung himself at Louis' cradle I spat "By your God, Henri, in thirty-five years have you ever known me to threaten a babe in arms?"

Little Louis chirped "Pere!" and reached up to tug his (tangled wreckage as always) father's beard. As usually you could feed a small family from the crumbs in that bird's nest Henri sported on his face. He ignored me in favor of giving the boy a thorough examination. Satisfied that his heir was in the blush of good health he put him back and spotted my gift. He wrapped his fingers around the toy, eyes hard "My son needs nothing from you."

"Not even his life?" I countered softly, flicking my ears forward. No Shadows today, no masks, no lies. "The messenger didn't lie. He had the sweating sickness. I healed him. Did you think all those soldiers who fought for you survived their mortal wounds because your God reached down a saved them?" His hand tightened around the little toy knight, "You will find that harder to break than you did my horse." I was still angry about Galahad and saw no reason to hide the fact. "You condemned me without even giving me a right to plea my case, Henri. You shot my horse, who had done you no harm. You killed Alessandro Farnese while attempting to commit murder. I expected better of you, Henri."

He tossed the toy at my feet "Take it and go. I have nothing to say to you."

"It was a gift and I'm not in the habit of taking back what I've freely given. You know that. And I have a great deal to say to you."

"Do I? Did I ever know you? Gabriel was a lie. I don't even know your name. And why should I not expect you to strike down a child after what you did to my Gabrielle and our unborn son."

"Henri, what on earth are you talking about? I would never have harmed Gabrielle. I know what she meant to you" And she was my friend and damn easy on the eyes I added silently "If her death was anything other than a complication of child bearing I swear on my blood and my life I had nothing to do with it. Even if I had wanted to harm her, Henri, I was still convalescing from my wounds when she died. I would have saved her if I had known if I was able."

Henri was actually listening now.

"I can't give you my name because I don't even know it myself. I'm not a demon. I am an Ellyllon. I was born an Ellyllon on March 28th, 1533. I made no deals with your devil for my abilities." Unless you count one made with dead dragons thousands of years and generations before I was a 'twinkle in my father's eye' I silently added "I was born with them. If you truly believe that your God created the world then these are the ears he gave me and my 'magic' and 'spells' are the gifts he granted me when he formed me in the womb. Is it evil to heal Henri? Is it wrong to use your God given talents?" Oh but it was a barbed question and he knew it. The Pharisees had dared to condemn Christ for healing calling him a servant of Satan. If he did the same to me he put himself squarely in their camp.

"You should have been a lawyer" it was not a compliment.

"I am a prince. Traditionally rule of Avalon's Outland territories falls to the 'dauphin'. I know the Law of my House as well as I know the laws of the people who squat on lands these land which are not their own. Any ruler of France, England, Ireland, Scotland, or the Low Countries owes allegiance to me."

"God gave dominion over the Earth to the children of Adam and Eve. Not to a pack of fairies."

"We Ellyllon are of human stock." He rocked back ready to deny it but it was absolutely true and I had no intention of not pressing that point. "We are not fairies. It's true" I flicked them forward "I have pointy ears. Are not a lap dog and a wolf hound both dogs? We may be different 'breeds' of men, Henri, but I'm as much a man as you are." I sliced my palm and let the blood run down my fingers. "If you cut me I bleed just as red as you, if you slap me it stings, if you tickle me I laugh. You are so very fond of claiming that your God leads your heart. Ask Him if I am telling the truth." I challenged. I didn't believe in Henri's God but I did believe in Henri's knack for knowing the truth.

I saw his enaid accept the argument, saw the dawning horror because if I wasn't a demon than he had killed Sandro while attempting to commit cold blooded murder. I had no desire to hurt Henri, in any fashion, I had nearly convinced myself to let the whole matter drop except I just couldn't seem to accept the thought of going back to Avalon with Henri thinking I was a demon.

I tilted my chin up in defiance as I glared into Henri's eyes.

Finally he asked "Do you deny that you have acted these fifty years under the alias of Draco?"

"I most certainly did take that name."

Henri's enaid writhed, clearly having accepted I wasn't a demon he was hoping I would now deny being Draco.

"Then you admit to his crimes?"

I arched a brow "I will freely confess to any acts I actually committed. Many things that I had no hand in were blamed upon Draco by those who sought a convenient scapegoat."

"Did you intentionally and willfully kill Henry the second?"

"Yes, I did. Does not a lord have the right to execute a vassal that rises up in rebellion?"

"God sets the nations in their places, it is not your right, prince or no, to raise your hand against his anointed."

"Rise for me" I whispered just loud enough for Henri to hear to the Earth beneath the châteaux and the entire building shifted as I intended. I flicked my fingers and stones on the wall rearranged themselves. I pointed and a row of trees that had been waiting for the gardeners attentions got up and planted themselves. "These. Are. MY. Lands. Thousands of years ago a desperate and dispossessed people came here and in the spirit of common humanity the crown prince made a blood pact with them" I was stretching the truth almost to the breaking point there. The original blood pact all but made the newcomers slaves. "they were permitted to settle among us so long as they abided by our Law. In time, for reasons that do not concern you, my people chose to move permanently Under the Hill but that does not and did not negate the blood pact. You tell me Henri, can you heal the wounded and dieing, can you call rain down on dry fields, do the trees bend to your will, can you whistle a bird out of the sky, do the beasts of field and forest serve your will, does the land itself acknowledge your lordship with ever fall of your foot? You tell me which of us is truly lord of these lands." I could feel the Drag trying to rise and I reined it in hard before continuing "You are permitted to live here only so long as you obey our Law. The Blood Law calls for the annihilation of the entire House of any vassal who defies a Ruling Prince."

Every speck of color leached out of Henri's face as he yanked off his hat.

"I grant clemency" I said swiftly. So swiftly that for the first time in years I had to stop and make myself slow down "I swear to you I have no intentions of moving against you or your family. I am merely establishing that by Law and long established Blood Pact I was within my rights to remove the House of Valois and place whoever I chose in their stead."

"And what about your father, the King?" Henri murmured still shaken by the thought of both France and his family caught up in another whirlwind when they were just beginning to recover.

"I have never seen him nor he me so I can not say with certainty but I am the first Prince since the days of my grandsire's elder brother Merlin to take an active interest in the Outland Kingdoms. Both my father and grandfather refused even their taithes" seeing his confusion I elaborated "Traditionally all Princes of the Blood are supposed to spend at least a year and a day traveling incognito in the Outlands sometime between their 120th and 210th year but until I was sent here as a Changeling no Prince of the Blood had even looked upon the Outlands in over a thousand years."

"That was before I tried to kill his son."

"Well" I offered since he still seemed quite worried "It isn't as if he hasn't tried that himself."

That earned me several seconds of stunned silence which I finally decided to fill "The reason my grandsire smuggled me out of Avalon was to ensure my life did not end in the same manner as that of all of my father's other children. He sent a mardeth to kill me the same night he killed my grandfather to take the throne. It is possible he might have thanked you if you had killed me when you had the opportunity."

"Why did you come here Ellyllon Prince? What is it you what of me?"

My heart sank, there was no warmth in either voice or enaid. "I have been called to Avalon. I leave in less than a fortnight." I very firmly stopped myself from nibbling at my lower lip. It was undignified for a Prince of Avalon. "I do not know what awaits me there" My father hadn't made any attempts on my life since my grandfather died and he was securely on the throne. He needed an heir, didn't he? Surely he wouldn't immediately try to kill me. But no matter how many logical reasons I gave myself or how much I was looking forward to finally seeing Avalon there was a chill I couldn't quite shake. "It will be at least fifty years before I look on the Outlands again" I didn't say you will be dead by then I hardly needed to "I didn't want us to part as enemies."

"I am sorry but I do not see how we can be anything else" he said firmly with none of the warmth or generosity I had come to love. When Ascham had been making me translate the entire Bible from language to language there were a few passages that rather came to mind. 1st Samuel 18:1 'and it came to pass that the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David and he loved him as his own soul' and 2nd Samuel 1:26 "I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan; very pleasant thou hast been to me, thy love to me was wonderful, surpassing the love of women.' When I had first read those passages I had assumed that David and Jonathan were engaged in a liaison that would get them stoned if they were caught. But that wasn't it. As closely bound as Jane soul and mine had been, close enough that Jane had taken me with her in death, I had never loved Jane the way I loved Henri. I couldn't go into whatever awaited me in Avalon with Henri's hate at my back.

"I don't understand" I said softly.

"Did you murder Henry the III?"

"Yes, but like his father he rebelled against me."

"Did you murder Don Juan of Austria?"

"Yes, but he led an invading army against my lands and my people."

"Did you murder Ivan of Russia?"

"Yes"

"Was he your vassal? Was he harming your people? Invading your lands?"

Ivan the Terrible? Henri was going to condemn me for killing Ivan the Terrible?

"You always mocked me for trembling in face of the East Wind. Let me show you why." Hell be damned if I would quietly allow myself to be blamed for killing Ivan. It wasn't long before battle hardened Henri was messily sick.

"Yes, I killed him and my only regret is that I didn't do it a decade earlier."

Henri didn't gainsay my words and needed to draw several steadying breaths. I didn't blame him. Henri was battle hardened but he had no stomach for torture and Ivan could have given Skeffington extensive lessons in the art.

"How many people have you killed?"

"By my own hand? Or at my orders? And should that be only assassinations or including the battlefields?"

That I even needed to ask for the question to be clarified probably didn't bode well for my case.

"In total Ellyllon Prince."

I chose to exclude those who died in the wars but not directly by my own hand or by men under my direct personal command. The tally took a bit of time I hadn't put a number on my dead since that night against the mardeth "32,316" I whispered the number. It seemed impossibly large and Henri's eyes widened in surprise.

"And were all of them outlaws, rebels, or monsters?"

Technically, Ivan was my only kill since my return to Europe in 1553 that I couldn't twist the Law to justify. By the Law of the Blood my youthful kills could be laid at my grandfather's feet. I really should have been a lawyer because I would have walked away from every charge whistling.

"They were all legal" I whispered, but then the Law favored the Blood.

"There is a law above and beyond the laws of men, written on the heart of every true human child. Look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you have never committed a murder that broke the law of true justice and I will beg your forgiveness for ever thinking ill of you."

I could lie to him, I was good at it but there moments in which a lie must not be uttered.

"I can not."

"And how many were true murders Ellyllon Prince? Ten? A hundred? A thousand? Ten thousand?"

"Not that many!" My voice cracked splitting across octaves "less than a thousand."

"But more than a hundred" it wasn't a question and I didn't bother answering it. I didn't need to. I knew how Henri saw the world. What I had done even his generous soul couldn't forgive and short of his Christ I'd never met a man more forgiving than Henri. Henri would forgive the man that killed him. But not me.

"I've prayed for you, as I have never prayed for anyone else in my life, but if you weren't born a demon, Ellyllon Prince, you've made yourself into one. And I will pray that your soul swiftly finds its way to Hell to spare all the innocents you would otherwise destroy."

My mouth worked for several seconds before I finally remembered how to speak "I thought there was no sin your Christ couldn't forgive, nothing His blood couldn't cover."

Henri's enaid brightened to the point it was painful to look at and his tone was eager "Will you truly become a new creature in Christ 'Reil?"

I wavered that 'Reil nearly enough to make me say it but this discussion had reminded me of who and when and why I had killed and if I was damned for refusing to accept a God who abandoned his faithful to die then I was damned. I wouldn't lie not here not now.

"I can't. I can't swear allegiance to a lord who leaves his followers to be slaughtered."

"Wretched creature. You are right, you are lord of these lands and I will not raise my hand against God's anointed but I will rejoice should word come to me of your death. Good can never come of evil acts." And with that he turned his back on me.

I stumbled, suddenly unable to breathe as my fingers closed around the sill before I tumbled backward out of the unshuttered window. Would it matter if I dashed my brains out on the courtyard below? I had to get out of here. Had to. I fled out the window scrambling to escape.

"Jonathan, Jonathan are you ready?" Will's voice sounded very far away. Fingers closed around my upper arm as he shook me "Jonathan?! Are you well?" Odd that I hadn't notice him coming in. Sloppy that. Come to think of it I didn't remember coming back to the Globe from my visit to Henri either and I wasn't due on stage until the evening performance. It couldn't be that late yet. It had been only a few hours past dawn when, when, he, I. I blinked at Will before my mind went back to Henri turning his back on me. Rejoice at my death. Rejoice because I was a man so evil hell itself would spit me back out. I was suddenly glad that Milady Latimer and Jane had died. That they hadn't seen what I had become. Will shook me again, trying to get my attention. I pulled away. Will was a good man, I had to get away from him before he realized what I was too. I slipped away from the Globe heading down toward the Thames. It wasn't until I was on one of the docks that it occurred to me how foolish I had been to come here. I couldn't die on the Sea and death was what I deserved. She wouldn't allow it. Henri was right, I had no business still breathing. I had no business putting myself forth as an heir to a throne.

"Christ save us, Jonathan, what is amiss?"

Will again, in black face, he was supposed to be Othello to my Desdemona, maybe he would really strangle me. Except Gentle Will would never. He wasn't the beast I was. And he shouldn't have followed me down here, this part of the city was hardly safe, especially after dark which was swiftly approaching. Apparently I'd lost the entire day in a daze. Sloppy, part of me whispered, anyone could have put a dagger between your ribs while you wandered like a lost soul through the cesspits of London. I wrinkled my nose, my shoes stank. Evidently I hadn't been paying attention to where I put my feet either but what did it matter? Vain, proud, haughty, arrogant beyond bearing, my faults were legion.

"Nothing, I'm fine." Desdemona – ill-fated how appropriate except I should have been playing Iago. I started back toward the Globe. I didn't need Will's blood on my hands too.

"Like Hell" Will dropped down onto a barrel and I stopped loath to leave him here. Maybe some bandits would show up and I could die saving him. Except Will would be guilty about my death and that wouldn't do. Not at all. Rejoice at my death. Monster, murderer, despoiler that was me for and aft. Unworthy, unredeemable. How do you make amends to the dead?

"We're on stage in less than an hour" I reminded him. I needed to get him moving again before London's cadre of cutthroats started slinking up from under their respective rocks in earnest. If they killed me it would only be justice but I couldn't bear the thought that Will might be harmed.

"To hell with the play." I didn't think he believed me about being fine. Apparently I wasn't lying as well as usual. Sloppy. Lair, cheat, fake, embezzler, thief, rake, pirate, I was those too.

"I thought the show must go on" I tried to make it a quip but it fell quite, quite flat.

"The show of life is far more important than anything that struts and frets upon the stage." I had played on so very many stages, spy, traitor, blasphemer with the exception of rape I had committed every sin to which man could aspire.

Because of Bess Will knew what I was now but unlike Henri Will wouldn't know the name Draco and what it had meant in the courts of Europe for fifty years and I had neither the time nor the heart to explain. Couldn't face the thought of hearing the words again from the lips of another good man because no one good or descent would ever speak to me if they knew the truth. Unworthy, unclean. No, Will wouldn't ever have anything to do with me again, neither would Milady Latimer, or Mannwan, or Jane, or Henry, or James, or any of the people whose regard I had ever sought to gain. I shivered even though I wasn't cold. Monster. The cats had know the truth ever since Looks Afar.

"Did you by chance talk to the French king today?"

I nodded. The part of me that was screaming about how sloppy I was being wanted very much to know why Will would ask that question. How he would even know of a connection to the French King.

"Then I have message from my Dark Lady for you 'While blood shed can never be washed away the shedding of more atones for nothing. If the butcher's bill troubles you then redeem death with life."

I clutched at her words like a drowning man clinging to flotsam. I didn't trust the Dark Lady, she had her own agenda both for me and for Avalon. I knew it in my bones and blood but she was also powerfully gifted and far older than I. Should I ignore her wisdom simply because I didn't fully understand her motives? If I could not undo the grievous errors of my youth could I not at least learn from them? I would find some way to save more lives that I had ever taken. It would never, ever balance. Lives taken could never be returned, not without making other more grievous errors. I would not go there again. It wouldn't make me worthy to live but I could at least be useful to the living. I did my best to shake off Henri's condemnation. I had a little time left in the Outlands and I intended to live it as best I could.

I wasn't a good man like you were Will, you have no idea of the depths to which I sank but I swear if I ever get out of here I will be a good man. I will. I promise.

Across from me Jack cursed. If it hadn't been for Will and the mysterious Dark Lady I doubted Mallory would have survived to reach Avalon. I remembered Argellion yelling at Mannwan that he would break Mallory. I had personally scoffed at the thought. If there was one thing this journal had proven it was just how tough Mallory was except that what Skeffington, the Inquisition, and the King of Avalon hadn't been able to do in decades Henri had done with a single sentence, he had shattered Mallory and I wasn't certain that he'd ever recovered. I could feel it in the blood soaked pages. Down there in the dark with nothing but his memories for company Mallory had gnawed on that judgment like a dog with only one bone. It was a wound that had festered and slowly poisoned him more than the loss of a third of his soul. This was half of what was wrong with Mallory, the belief that he deserved to die. Except that this Mallory had been looking for ANY excuse to cling to life. We were still missing the other half of the equation, why did Mallory now WANT to die? And to be honest for all his talk of what a monster he had been I had yet to see an example of completely inexcusable wickedness.

"I'm thinking that I want te have a long talk with this Henri" Jack growled, spiting mad. You didn't see that often. Jack wasn't s usually nearly as consumed by rage as his brother but then I had never dreamed Mallory could feel as frail as he had in that last passage. Fragile wasn't a word I thought of when I thought of Mallory but that was exactly what he had been. To my surprise I felt something shift in response to Jack's wanting. Surely not, Henri had been dead for nearly a century. But then so had Meleri and she certainly seemed to have an opinion. Maybe Jack's silver tongue could convince Henri to rethink his opinion of Mallory. If we could shake half that death wish of his I would gladly put up with an undead French king. He couldn't possibly be any worse than Barbossa and a pack of cursed pirates.

"Stop that" I barked and snatched the journal away from parrot who squawked indignantly at me before starting to pace. In spite of the seriousness of the situation I could feel a grin tugging at my lips. Parrots had the funniest little sway when they paced. I glanced over at Mr. Not Cotton but he was looking up in the general direction of Mallory. It was tough to tell since Mr. Not Cotton had one expression for all occasions (clearly the Ellyllon who had wrapped him in Shadow wasn't up to Mallory's exacting skill in Shadow craft) but I thought he seemed deeply disturbed.

Jack followed parrot's example and Elizabeth stifled a giggle as Jack and the parrot managed to pace and sway in perfect rhythm. Jack finally waved his hands in the general direction of Not Cotton's gaze.

"What the bleeding hell were ye thinking te sign fer cargo like that?" Jack snapped "What a bleeding load o' bilge water ye took on. Ye expected better o' Henri? Well I expected better sense from ye. Ye counted yer dead, brother, but did ye ever bother te reckon the living? Don't bloody deserve te live me arse" Jack cursed in several different languages. "I might have been a drunken fool with Barbossa but I do know how te judge men and ye are a good man ye great bloody fool." Jack flung himself back into his seat "Carry on, Mr. Turner, let's see what other bit of daft stupidity me brother has himself fixated on."

I am not certain which is worse the murders I committed on little more than a whim or the deaths caused by my mistakes. And I made so many terrible mistakes Will. First and foremost being ignoring your Dark Lady's advice since it was she in one of her many disguises who warned me to sever my link with Jane and remain at sea. She had the good grace to not quite say I told you so. So much blood Will and so much death. Young fool.

(RHYS!!) I whipped my head up so fast I cracked it against one of the Peregrine's beams hard enough to see stars.

(Jane, what is it?)

(The King is dead. Rhys, they're calling me Queen.) One outgrowth of my commandeering Jane's body the other day was that I was closer than ever to Jane. No effort on my part seemed to be required any more to see through her eyes. I watched as a meager handful of lords bowed to Jane by week's end I was willing to wager that not a one would still stand by her.

(Deny the crown) I advised backing my words with a wave of foreboding (Sob, wail, swoon, whatever it takes do NOT let them crown you.) As I had expected Eyes had failed to secure Mary and even now the nation was rallying to her banner. In a week Mary would be on the throne. I would be in Cairo tomorrow but I still needed to cross the Med and the breadth of Europe. I was never going to beat Mary to London especially since my little switch with Jane had cost a full half day's sail since Jane had not only managed to bring my forward progress to a halt but had lost some ground. If Jane was seen to have actively refused the throne Mary would be more inclined to clemency and Mary was hardly vicious by nature. If Mary thought Jane's hand had been forced it would take weeks if ever for her advisors to convince her to execute Jane. There was still a risk of an overzealous Marian patriot assassinating Jane so I had no intention of slowing down.

Already frightened Jane needed little encouragement from me to begin weeping.

(Make certain to insist that this pleases you NOT. That the throne is Mary's by right) she mumbled it through her sobs. Watching I was very glad that I didn't weep, it was sloppy. (Damn it, speak clearly Jane) I hissed at her (Your life may depend upon it.)

I must have been a bit too forceful or she was more overwrought than I realized because she promptly fainted. Bugger. I couldn't see through Jane's eyes when the silly girl closed them. What was it with women and fainting? It was sloppy and it left you horribly vulnerable.

(Jane) I said trying to revive her (Come on Jane, there's a brave girl). Somebody pinched her. I was willing to bet it was Frances. No one else would be bold enough since there was still a slim chance Jane would retain the throne. As Jane's eyes fluttered open sure enough there was Frances. I really wished Jane would let me kill her. Maybe if I just didn't tell her?

(Where ARE you Rhys?) Jane's voice was a plaintive wail in my mind.

(Coming) I told her (coming as swiftly as the wildest wind can blow)

(Come faster) she begged.

(Just make certain you refuse to crown) I retorted.

(Mary is coming, isn't she?)

(Not just yet) I soothed I needed her to take the danger seriously but not to lose her head. I shivered at my poor choice of thought. I sent courage and comfort but kept my mental voice grave. (But soon. Northumberland has already called a muster.)

(I don't want civil war Rhys. I don't want men to die for a throne I don't want.) She paused (You expect us to lose.) It wasn't a question. (Rhys what aren't you telling me?)

'A legion of things' I thought in that dark place I never let Jane anywhere near where I hid the Draig that slithered around the corners of my soul.

(The commons are rising for Mary, en masse. The seven ships Northumberland sent to guard the coast from a potential Hapsburg invasion have declared for Mary and will not turn back any Hapsburg troops. Word of Ned's death is spreading like wildfire and most of the provincial nobles are planning to back Mary. If I could arrive before Mary takes London I could raise both the land itself and the Old Blood in your name. It might be enough to end this without civil war.)

(But you aren't going to arrive in time are you?)

(Mary has to go 25 miles, I have to go 2,500. I'm fast Jane, but not that fast.) She burrowed into me and I wrapped my metaphysical arms around her offering what comfort I could. (Just submit to Mary) I purred to her (until I arrive. If you want the throne I will find a way to give it to you.)

(NO!) she ripped herself away from me leaving a gap were none had been. It felt like I'd lost a piece of my heart and I reeled as she continued (It pleases me not!)

(Then I won't) I cooed desperately wooing her back and once she was tucked securely back into her place at my side I commented dryly (Would you mind telling that to the Marquess of Winchester who is about to set the crown on your head?) Both ears flicked as Wind brought me dire word.

(Rhys?) I sent Jane every warm feeling I'd ever learned from Milady Latimer lulling her while I shifted most of my attention onto the flame I now kept burning at all waking hours on a brazier in the center of my desk. I hadn't recognized the voices and no names had been named clearly others shared my evaluation of the situation and intended to relieve Mary of the necessity of ordering Jane's death. The one bright point was that, from the sound of things, they were not, nor did they yet, have agents in the city. I now had a perfect bead on my estate and Gwyn was waiting on the other end. I knew just how futile it was to try writing anything so I decided to draw. The only problem being that I frankly wasn't terribly good at drawing. Oh, my handwriting was exquisite, Aschem would have accepted nothing less even if it hadn't been a matter of pride to be better than Eyes and Bess, and I could make perfectly acceptable draftsman like maps and diagrams but I was NO Titan. I generally avoided anything artistic like the plague since there was no reason at all to call attention to one of my few shortcomings. Lluniwer must have been hovering nearby for he appeared almost instantly when Gwyn called. Hmmm, keen indeed to have his other hand healed, not that I could blame him.

I drew a quick sketch of Lluniwer and Gwyn walking with a candle led by another flame. I wasn't Michelangelo but I was at least a bit better in flame than with ink or paint. Gwyn might not be able to grasp the concept of writing but she seemed to be able to grasp the painfully obvious as she grabbed a candle and Lluniwer's good hand as I crafted a flame to lead them to my chambers, which, had, I was pleased to note, been maintained just as I left them. If Lluniwer had searched the room for its secrets then he had done an impressive job of covering his tracks. Of course I hadn't left much to find either but I was very glad I'd made a copy of Mannwan's list of Alltude because I had the distinct impression I was going to need more than just Lluniwer in the near future. I dispelled the Shadow that had hidden the note. Cromwell had required that I be a skilled forger but the copy of the note had been the first time I had ever attempted to forge magic as well as mere parchment and ink. I was quite curious to see what Lluniwer's reaction would be.

He nearly tore the parchment as the hand I hadn't healed tried to clench and he snarled "Mannwan."

Interesting, so there was bad blood between my favorite teacher and my current steward, I knew there was a reason why I'd didn't trust Lluniwer beyond that I was paranoid as a matter of course. He had to use the good hand to prize the paper back out of the other.

"I assume you want me to assemble the rest of list?"

"Y"

"Here?"

"N"

"At the London house?" Lluniwer did not sound enthused at the prospect but then my London townhouse, while not a hovel, certainly wasn't as nice as any of my country houses. The truth was I had only set foot in the place once and had never done a damn thing with it, with the exception of the stables I had never done or lived in any of my houses.

"Y"

He narrowed his eyes as he read the list. There were names on it he didn't care for much more than Mannwan but I couldn't tell which ones. "I will send them there as I find them."

I straightened a little rubbing the back of my neck, surprised to see that the stars were fading and the first hints of dawn were beginning to color the sky outside. We only had until noon, I needed to read faster, except everything in this bit about Jane had the 'edge' I had been skimming for. I finally decided to flip ahead to Mallory's arrival back in England and to hope that I wasn't skipping anything critical.

The stones of the Tower greeted me, cushioning my landing as I came in harder than I intended. Sloppy, Skeffington would beat me for that if I hadn't fed him to the lions years ago. I glanced down as I leaned against the battlements catching my breath and checking the lions. I was surprised to see Sharp Wits, her muzzle now completely white, was still alive. None of the other lions that had devoured Skeffington had survived my absence from the Tower. Sensing my regard her great head swiveled around as she met my eyes.

(Let me die free, Fleet Feet)

I didn't want to make a promise I might not be able to keep, Jane had to come first and I had lost track of events here in the brutal flight across Europe.

(I have a friend trapped in the cells again. I have to see to her first, but if I can I will) I swore to the old lioness.

She wrinkled her hoary nose (Cub, you and your pride seem to have a knack for landing in trouble.)

(We do at that) I said ruefully. (I have to go.)

(Good hunting) she said to my back as I asked the stones where Jane was being held.

I made my way quickly to the House of the Gentleman Gaoler of the Tower which was near the Beauchamp Tower where the according to one of the more chatty flagstones the Dudley's were being held. I was a bit surprised that they were housing Jane so close to Guildford since the last thing Mary would want was a pregnancy but I was glad that Jane wasn't in any of the actual towers. The House of the Gentleman Gaoler was a quite comfortable half-timber affair and if Master Partridge was still at the post Jane would not suffer.

Learning to walk through stone had been a priority of mine during my time with Mannwan and I had a fairly good relationship with most of the Tower. The stone, brick, and timber of the house greeted me warmly as I walked through the wall. I tossed myself down on Jane's bed with a sigh content to rest here until she finished dinner with Master Partridge and his family. Wind brought me the sound of wild rejoicing in the streets. I hoped as I drifted off into an exhausted sleep that Jane's dynol ears couldn't hear it. Even though she didn't want to be Queen the people's joy at Mary's triumph would have to burn.

I woke with a start. Singing, someone was singing in the room WITH me, how the blazes could I have been so sloppy?! The fact that it was Mrs. Ellen did nothing to mollify me. Damn Jane. Just because Mrs. Ellen would walk through Hell for her didn't mean she would do the same for me. Since my second little body swapping trick Jane's thoughts and feelings had started taking up residence in my head to the point that it was difficult to tell who thought what. If her eyes were open I saw through them, I heard through her ears even when she slept, I could feel the cup her fingers were wrapped around, I knew what she was wearing, how dinner with the Partidges tasted, and what the topic of conversation had been in spite of the fact I had been napping. And I had slept through Mrs. Ellen's return because Jane would have. What was most annoying was that the influence didn't seem to run both ways. I was under siege from Jane but she only seemed to receive what I actively sent. I tucked myself up into the far corner of the bed after requesting a ready escape route from the stone behind me should it become necessary. I let myself go back to drowsing while keeping a weather ear on Mrs. Ellen.

I roused fully just before Jane and Mrs. Tilney entered, trying to shrug off my weariness. I probably could have truly slept but I didn't trust my trust of Mrs. Ellen. My world reeled when Jane entered, the room was disjointed and twisted as I saw the same space through two sets of eyes.

The sound of Elizabeth being sick yanked me out of the journal. I wrapped a steadying arm around her while my father cleaned up the mess. I decided to avoid the passages with Jane as much as possible, it wasn't worth making Elizabeth sick.

"You know, luv" Jack observed while trying to get a slightly better angle to look down her bodice. Bloody pira…was Elizabeth's cleavage a bit more ample than usual? "You don't have te take the notion o' morning sickness quite so literally." He passed her a cup of what looked to be tea. When had he had time to brew tea?

She shook her head miserably, "I don't even want to think about putting anything in my stomach."

"Me brother used te make this back when he was captain for ladies aboard who where…" Jack rolled his eyes at the Governor's hurrump but switched whatever it was he was going to say to the more proper "in the family way."

Elizabeth considered the cup warily "And you remembered the recipe?"

"Don't think I ever knew it, luv. But when the whelp mentioned how Mallory hid things in his chamber it got me te thinking about all the 'Veils o' Shadow' that he told me were stashed about the Pearl. Barbossa certainly never found any o' them and me brother pounded inte me head were the medicinal chest was, how te open it, and what each o' the remedies he'd left here was good for and the dosages o' each" Jack's lips twitched "Didn't think there was any point te learning it since at the time I never believed there would be a time when ol' Mallory wouldn't be around." He offered her the cup again. "Jack might not know much about medicine lass but Mallory does."

This time she took the cup though her first sip was decidedly cautious, she paused, waited a moment and then took a more generous gulp. Her color improved markedly and I was ashamed to see I had realized just how pale she had grown these last few days.

She glanced at me, fingers wrapped in a stranglehold around the cup, "Pray continue, Will, we don't have a lot of time left before noon."

Even though Elizabeth was feeling better I decided to still skip over the scene with Jane.

'The old salts are right' I reflected sourly 'women are bad luck, annoying, and more trouble than they could ever possibly be worth' I kicked a loose cobble down the street. The bloody wench drags me half way round the planet at a pace even the Wind had difficulty keeping only to all but dismiss me out of hand with a 'I will wait patiently upon the Queen's pleasure.'

(Yo-u---re par—don---yo---ur----gr—a-ce) the stone apologized as I drew abreast with it again (I---did---n—t---me-an----no-----of---fen—se)

I stopped and sighed. Mannwan would chide me for it but I begged the stone's pardon. Just because I was in an ill temper was no excuse to take it out on others down to and including the street. Dirt got walked on enough as it was. I picked the stone up and found it a spot it liked. It took a moment to settle the cobbles back down since they were so excited that I had even noticed them I hadn't the heart to leave without talking to them a little. As I continued on my way to the town house to meet Lluniwer and the two Altude that had arrived in London so far a smile tugged the edge of my lips. Those cobblestones would likely still be talking about how a prince had once noticed them long after both they and I had gone to dust. Stone remembers long.

I gave my townhouse a critical glance, the colors simply would NOT do if I was going to be actually using the place. I would have Lluniwer secure a few servants and choose some better colors before I left today. I introduced myself to the bricks, stone, and ironwork pausing to impress my power on the locks so that they would refuse to admit anyone I denied access regardless of keys or lock picks before continuing inside.

Lluniwer and the two Ellyllon with him bowed low as was proper a prince.

"Please rise" I studied the newcomers carefully. I was surprised to sense a blood link between the mysterious Anuion and Mannwan. I liked him instantly and mistrusted the inclination. Trust was not a thing to be bestowed lightly if at all. Anuion rose but he did not raise head nor his eyes so I turned my attention to the other first. Taflu ap Swyn a glyw of House Lofrudd. The house of the assassin. Interesting choice of names, particularly since according to Argellion they actually specialized in sigils and spells. Taflu was one of the few Altude whose crime had been noted on the scrap of parchment left behind, he had challenged the authority of his Udd, Unben ap Lofrudd of House Lofrudd. Who was, according to Argellion, a close associate of my father. Knowing that my father had a taste for tormenting dynols and had killed his father one wondered what it was Taflu had refused to do. Probably nothing pleasant. Taflu had never killed I could see that plainly in his enaid. I had less experience reading Ellyllon enaids than dynol ones but I was inclined to suspect that Skeffington would have called Taflu hopelessly soft. Not comforting given that I was likely to need men of war more than poets. Like Lluniwer Taflu was no Shadow weaver but his silver hair and regular features would draw less.. comment than Lluniwer's green skin. A rag wrapped over his ear tips and eyes and he could easily pass as a blind beggar.

"I am aware that the previous King declared you exiles, to be left without succor by any Ellyllon or cyfae. As Lluniwer has told you, I have recruited him to serve me. Under the Law I do not exist and thus King Mathon's decree does not apply to me. I invite you to enjoy the benefits of my protection by swearing to serve me. I think Lluniwer can vouch that I have not been a difficult master." Lluniwer gave them both a grin that would have had me counting my fingers after shaking hands with him were I in their shoes. Of course now that I was back I fully intended to give my estates a very through audit.

Anuion hit the floor fully prostrate and said around his tears, voice husky "My prince honors me far above my worth. I am humbled that I have been called to serve"

Well, if I had had any doubts about my instincts this put them to rest. This guy was definitely related to Mannwan.

"Command me and I shall obey."

He also clearly shared Mannwan's affinity with Earth.

"Prithee rise, my good gentle" I offered him a hand but he cringed away before scrambling to his knees "I am not worthy of your gaze never mind your touch my prince."

I'd forgotten just how disconcerting being truly worshipped because that was what was in Anuion's enaid. Lluniwer's House might consider the Draig's themselves holy but I was reasonably certain that he considered me no more sacred than Argellion had which brought me back to Taflu who looked decidedly uncertain before bowing "Command me and I shall obey." It was not the most rousing commitment I had ever heard. I passed Taflu a few small pearls and wove Shadow over his ears and eyes since the rest of him could pass for dynol.

"Go and acquire so more suitable garb" I dropped some rich rubies and sapphires into Lluniwer's good hand. He looked disappointed "You still have three more to assemble. And for Draig's sake find someone to paint this hovel. I will have to at least put up an appearance of living here and I intent to do so in style." His departure left me alone with Anuion who had yet to get off his knees.

"You may rise. And look up." I offered. He did finally rise.

"You aren't much good to me if you are forever walking into things" at that he cautiously lifted his eyes from the floor. Blue eyes with pupils that could nearly pass for a dynol's but there was power there, less than Lluniwer's but more than Taflu or even Dirwyn. "I have some tasks of my own to see to but I will need your help tomorrow, midday."

"I will be here my prince, whenever you need me, whatever the task."

Well, I had come to break someone out of the Tower, Sharp Wits was at least willing. So, where should I take an old lioness to die? I could take her to my own estates but I hadn't seen Henry in far too long and I was willing to bet he would be sympathetic to another prisoner. Everything in me protested flying again so soon but it was just a short flight and Henry was at the other end.

For as weary as I was I made a fairly decent landing. The Rose Garden around the old stone from the Tower was coming along nicely and the stone seemed quite content in its new home. I curled up on the rock to continue the nap that Mrs. Ellen had interrupted earlier.

I stretched, feeling much more rested by the time Henry made his evening pilgrimage to the Rose Garden. Henry was far too much a creature of habit for my comfort. Any assassin could easily target him on his 'cool of the day' walk out here. When I'd brought it up years ago he'd all but patted me on the head and quite reasonably asked who on earth would want to kill Thomas Norrington? Which was a valid point but still. Habits like this one of his were sloppy and sloppy gets you killed. Time to make that point to Henry. I wrapped myself in the Shadow of a highway man and tucked myself into the natural shadows of the roses waiting for my prey to settle himself on the stone I had recently vacated. I studied his enaid and frowned. Oh, he was healthy, content, even happy but his enaid still looked old. I had hoped that the years of joy would eventually give him back some of his youth but apparently it was not to be. I hesitated knowing that this was his quiet time with his God. Of course if a real highwayman came out here to rob him when he was alone he probably wouldn't much care that Henry was at his prayer. I slunk forward and sprung. I wrapped one hand around his mouth, rested one of my daggers against his ribs and growled "Yer money or yer life." He froze, heart galloping for a moment before his enaid flushed with…joy?

"Rhys!" he whirled (I nearly slit my own wrist making certain I didn't cut him – now THAT would have been unbearably sloppy!) and crushed me in a bear hug that had my fragile ribs a feather's touch from breaking. It was nice to know I'd been missed but being able to breath was better, a complaint that I had to use Wind to make since Henry was smothering me as I dropped the highwayman disguise and threw up an outer Shadow so no one would notice us.

"Damn it Rhys what are you doing back here?" his attempt to chide was completely ruined by his sparkling eyes and the grin he couldn't seem to wipe off his face.

"I hope you don't look like this when you are disciplining my godson."

"God knows I've missed you Rhys but, seriously, your last letter made it sound like Lucifer's hounds couldn't have drug you out of the South Seas. When did you get back and why did you leave?"

"Just before noon and Jane is in the Tower."

Just the mention of the Tower knocked all the joy out of him, "Then go get her out."

"She won't go. She says she is awaiting Mary's judgment."

"She must have much better accommodations than I ever did" he muttered eyes far away. "Drag her out kicking and screaming if you have to but take her and go."

I wrapped my arms around my knees "I promised I wouldn't."

"Then leave her" Henry said flatly.

"I can't."

Henry finally looked at me again "No, I don't suppose you could. It isn't in your nature. Will you be coming to supper?"

My stomach growled at the mere mention and some of Henry's good humor returned though I think it had more to do with my mortification that I had been so basely betrayed by my own body than anything else.

"Yes, how did you know it was me?"

Henry held a hand out to me which I took questioningly "No highwayman would have hands this small." He tilted his head appraising me "You look good Rhys, better than I've ever seen you, even if you are tanned as brown as a walnut. Asia must agree with you. Go back."

I sighed "I have a favor to ask."

"Yes"

"You don't even know what it is yet" I protested.

Henry shrugged "I owe you my life, Rhys, and I trust you wouldn't even ask for something I wasn't willing to give."

"I'd like to let a lioness run free in your game park."

Long pause "Did you bring one back with you?"

I shook my head "Sharp Wits from the Tower doesn't want to die there. Her heart doesn't have long; I think one good hunt will finish her off. I thought you might enjoy a little taste of Africa." Henry was enough of a nobleman to enjoy the hunt and I was willing to bet I could magic one real hunt out of Sharp Wits. It would kill her but I didn't think she would mind at all.

Henry smiled "The park is yours. I'll give the servants and peasants orders to stay away" I had every intention of backing that up with a few well placed spells! "Now, you must be famished."

At the word famished Mallory-in-the-carchar's hunger rolled of the page and practically prowled around the cabin. You could feel him force it back down as he tried to continue his narrative without daydreaming about food.

I had to adjust my Shadow of Lord Tallyrand's appearance to that of a twenty year old dynol as we left the Rose Garden. Meg gave a decidedly unladylike squeal of delight when she spotted me and nearly threw herself at me before she recalled proper decorum (which was a very good thing since I was about half the size and a quarter of the Shadow's apparent age)

"And now my heart is once more complete" I have her a sweeping bow "For I have passed through the great and forlorn darkness that encompasses anywhere that is far from thee but have emerged once more to bask in my lady's glorious light." I slipped a ring onto her fingers when I kissed her hand.

She smiled, "Flatterer. Is there no still no Lady Tallyrand?"

"But my heart already belongs to another" I sighed melodramatically "how could I ever wrong some poor maid by wooing her when she could never hold a candle to thee?"

Whatever courtly response Meg was going to give was neatly cut off by Henry "Can't you see the poor man is wasting away for want of good solid English fare? Let us continue over supper. I'm certain young Rhys wishes to see his godfather."

I personally would be surprised if Rhys even recognized me. "Shameless flirt" Henry muttered as he went by.

"I thought you found it amusing" I whispered back.

"I do" he rejoined "but not while my supper is getting cold."

Mallory-in-the-carchar spent far too much time savoring the memory of food. I skipped ahead to his return to the Tower.

I had discovered that Anuion was quite good with Shadow, not nearly as good as I, but easily as good as any of my instructors. I wasn't certain what else he could do since he had been far too nervous to speak. I had fashioned a very simple twyllodrus, nothing compared to the ones I had seen Argellion make, but it should pass as Sharp Wits' body while we bore the Queen of Beasts away in the cart. It hadn't taken me long to find out the schedule of deliveries to the Tower nor to set a few of the servants napping. I was by no means impressed with Skeffington's successor, Sir John Brydges, the Tower was a sieve. This wasn't even going to be a challenge. I didn't particularly need Anuion either this was more a test than anything. I had considered bringing Taflu or the new Alltude who Lluniwer had delivered this morning, Ffyddlon( who from the look at him would make Gwyn appear brilliant) but I had decided that more than one unknown element at a time, even on fairly straightforward actions, would be sloppy.

The guard at the Lion Gate could barely be bothered to look up much less search. Even as I reflected that I probably could have gotten Jane out of the Tower if I had been no more than a dynol I seethed at the sloppiness. The government was unstable, Mary's coronation hadn't even happened yet, troth she hadn't even entered the city since she intended to do so with spectacle if not necessarily style. Skeffington had run the Tower tighter in days of stability than Brydges did now. Even in peace London was by no means a safe town. Lawlessness was rife; no man and few women went unarmed. If I was one of Mary's advisers I would have hard words indeed for the manner in which her most important prisoners were being kept. Which wasn't a bad idea, not telling her to improve security at the Tower, but ingratiating myself with Mary was an excellent thought. Mary had always been fond of young Tallyrand, as soon as Peregrine finished his long sail around Africa Lord Tallyrand would return in style with suitable gifts for his new queen. I watched Anuion out of the corner of my eye since the poor 'boy' (who was 47 years my elder but seemed so damnably innocent that I felt guilty even involving him in so simple an act as liberating a lioness) would likely go to pieces if I actually looked at him for more than a few seconds.

"Can you handle the barrels on your own?" I asked Anuion who instantly answered "Of course my prince."

I frowned, I had no problem with enthusiasm but I needed my Alltude to give me honest estimates of their abilities since I had no wish to get them into situations they couldn't handle and that given our 'non-human' status with the dynol could so easily turn deadly. Anuion cringed. I had no desire to undermine what confidence he had by second guessing him either.

"I'll be maintaining a Shadow here apparently assisting you while fetch Sharp Wits" a questioning look. I hadn't told him what we were here for. Cromwell had always been of the opinion that servants should know only what was necessary and nothing more and I had no reason to doubt that particular bit of wisdom. He didn't ask for clarification. I wasn't certain if that was a good or a bad thing.

"Hey, Sleepy" one of the guards hailed the young man approaching to take charge of the supplies we'd brought. I drew a deep breath, damn, William Foxley. Princes of Avalon do not blush or act guilty even when they are. Argellion had been teaching me to lull things to sleep and I had decided to have a bit of fun with Foxley because he had annoyed me that particular afternoon. It was supposed to be a slightly petty but fairly benign prank that would earn him a bit of ribbing but nothing more. I'd over done it. By the third day I was frantic and had confessed to Argellion hoping that he could break the enchanted sleep I'd put Foxley in. None of my instructors had had the least success. By the tenth day I was convinced I'd all but killed him and my relief had known no bounds when he woke fifteen days after I'd whistled a tune to him. As Argellion had impressed upon me afterward (as if the notion of putting some man permanently to sleep hadn't made the point), magic was a tool whose power must always be respected. Foxley, was never ever going to live his fortnight long nap down.

"Not always so perfect, now were we?" Jack purred with a dangerous edge. I had the distinct impression that while there had been real affection between the brothers there had been a great deal of friction as well. Mallory's sense of duty and loathing of all things sloppy must have well and truly grated on Jack's free spirit. Jack's defection with Barbossa and his lashing out at Mallory back at San Juan de Ulua hadn't come out of nowhere. There was resentment bubbling under the surface. I absolutely believed that Jack was truly worried about Mallory and wanted to help but I could see in his eyes and hear in his voice that part of him liked seeing Mallory stumble and Jack's wanting changed things. What happened when he wanted two opposing things at the same time?

I swallowed and went back to reading.

I spared a quick glance toward the Gentleman Gaoler's house and Jane before racing to the menagerie. I had the locks picked ere the lions even realized I was among them. Sharp Wits heaved herself to her feet and shambled out the door.

(Take me with you) a very young lion I didn't know pled.

I wanted to, but what was I going to do with a young lion? Perhaps when Jane came to her senses and was willing to flee England we could reach an accord about transport to Africa.

(I'm sorry but not now) I laid my hand on Sharp Wits' back lending her strength as I ordered the twyllodrus into the cage. It would act like an old tired lioness today and tomorrow and then appear to quietly expire. It would feel enough like a lion that no one would question it before tossing the body into the moat like all the other lions had been.

The young lion snarled and for a moment I thought he was going to roar before flopping down dejectedly onto the flag stones to stare off into the distance. I wavered but I didn't have a second twyllodrus prepared and having two lions die at the same time especially when one was as healthy as he was would rouse suspicion. Hmm, those weren't the flagstones I remembered.

As Sharp Wits and I walked back to the cart I asked about the changes in the structure (Some foolish two legs blew up half the tower. Falling stones killed Antelope Slayer and Never Free.)

Anuion nearly dropped the last barrel when he saw Sharp Wits beside me. With some of my strength powering her aging muscles she managed to leap into the cart. Anuion finished up, said his goodbyes to Foxley, and joined me on the seat.

We were out of the Tower before he finally very timidly asked "Are you certain it's safe?"

I grinned teasingly but couldn't quite get Anuion to meet my eyes "Well, she isn't a tame lioness and no Queen is ever safe."

Anuion didn't comment. Sharp Wits snorted from the back (He's more afraid of you than me.)

That was unfortunately entirely too true I passed him the reins and slipped into the back "Take us out of the city to the south east."

(Where are we going?)

(To the home of the cub I saved before I left. He has agreed to let you roam his park and forest. There are many deer. I know they aren't antelope but I thought you might enjoy a bit of hunting.)

She rubbed her head against my arm (Pride indeed). She licked her paws (What will you do about Looks Afar?)

(I don't know. If I release him they will only seek another to take his place. And I do not know what to do with him. It is clear that he does not know how to hunt. I can not keep him myself and I will be doing no one any favors if I merely set him at liberty here or back in Africa.)

(A thorny problem with no simple answer) she agreed.

(What would you do?)

(Let him die free, even if it is by your own hand) she finally replied.

Lovely, someone else I didn't want to kill to add to the list.

(I will consider it) I said as I scratched her ears and prepared her for one final hunt while giving Anuion the occasional direction.

It was long past dark by the time we arrived after traveling since dawn. Henry was eagerly waiting for us though he was clearly surprised to see Anuion and I received questioning glance from both of them. Prometheus snorted and pranced uncertain about the scent of a lion. He had encountered the scent before years ago before I had given him to Henry when Blake (speaking of whom I needed to see how things were going in my stables) had ridden him about the Tower. With a few whispers I lulled him the same way I had the cart horses.

(What a wild pride wouldn't do to have you, Fleet Feet) Sharp Wits quipped as she jumped down off the cart and stalked forward toward Henry who held his ground though I could see fear and awe flutter through his enaid. He had seen lions before, of course, when he had gone to the Tower with his father but never outside of the Towers kennels which were so small that a lion could hardly turn in them.

He gave her an elegant but abbreviated bow from the saddle and in tones that reminded me very much of his father said "Your grace honors my humble home with your presence and I can but hope that we can provide suitable entertainment for the Queen of Beasts."

Sharp Wits gave him a very graceful and regal nod of acknowledgement (I can see why you like him) she said before lifting her nose to the wind. (A proper hunt requires that the King flush the prey) She looked at me expectantly. I sighed, I didn't like hunting defenseless prey. Henry frowned as usual picking up on my mood but, son of the aristocracy that he was, not comprehending why I would ever be reluctant to hunt, especially since I was so seasoned killer. I nodded to her and turned to Henry.

"Stay here while Sharp Wits and I get into position."

I whirled away using Wind to find the herd as Sharp Wits crept forward to ambush the deer I was going to spook straight into her waiting claws. Best to just get it bloody over with at least Wind would enjoy making me sound like a lion. I bypassed the herd of hinds and calves. I shivered, no calves, not ever. There was a small herd of stags just on the edge of the wood, Sharp Wits could take her chances with them. I slipped silently through the trees staying upwind until I was in the perfect position to drive them straight into Sharp Wits' hiding place. As I had Wind mimic the sound of a roaring lion I also lit the forest and the park up to the edge of the road and used flame to send the hinds with their calves into the depths of the forest. The small group of stags fled for the dark shadows in which Henry, Anuion, and Sharp Wits waited. I followed the deer fleet enough of foot that I had no difficulty staying behind them. Sharp Wits broke cover just before we reached the edge of the light and the stags wheeled left in panic. Despite the years of inactivity she deftly cut the eldest from the herd. The aging Prince of the Forest roared a challenge of his own to the ancient Queen of Beasts. If I had been Sharp Wits I would not have picked a 'switch' stag. They were killers, usually wily old males past their primes whose antlers no longer formed proper tines leaving them with heavy, sharp spikes with which they could impale their younger opponents. She crouched in front of him and growled, ears back, great fangs bared. He lowered his head presenting her with his spikes. He charged forward and she sprang back. With her muscles weakened by age and long confinement she narrowly avoided being lanced. He barked at her mockingly and advanced again. She tried to circle round to flank him but the old Prince was no fool and he stayed with her. There was no question of who would tire first. Normally she would have a sister to support her and I wondered if she expected me to leap on his back. As she feinted left I let out another roar, I was pride after all. The stag, startled, made the fatal mistake of raising his head and in a flash she was on his throat but her grip was not as strong as it had once been or red deer were stronger than antelopes because the stag wrenched himself free. She lunged again but he managed to bring his head round even faster and he dealt her a glancing blow. Both bloodied they circled on another warily each looking for an advantage. In the end the stag's nerve broke and he made a dash for the trees but she put on a burst of speed with a great leap she landed on his back and bore him to the ground. Again he proved stronger than she could master and he brought his head round just enough for a solid hit on her flank but she refused to quit and with his life's blood flowing down his neck he also crumpled. Growling she clamped her jaws around his throat and died. Free at last.

"Good hunting" I whispered to the lioness and had the earth take them together into her embrace. Troth, Sharp Wits would probably have preferred to feed the vultures but I didn't want there to be any evidence of a lioness on the surface. I gave Henry and Anuion a moment to digest things and then reduced the circle of light to enclose just the three of us. I suspected that Henry was keen to ask why I didn't care for hunting and I was in no mood to discuss the twin sister I had left to die.

"Anuion" I said letting the Draig rise in my voice and holding out my hand "Would you consent to be llwgwas?"

He dropped instantly on one knee "I am not worthy to rise so high" he protested.

"We have judge thee worthy would you gainsay your liege?" I said and slit both our palms as he took the Blood oath. This oath could not be forced even by a King and a Gorchymyn nor could it be broken, by either of us. He was mine, in life and death. I sealed the wounds with a thought and turned to Henry.

"Anuion, this is my brawdmaeth, he known as Thomas Norrington." To Henry's confusion Anuion bowed to him as well.

"Brawdmaeth?"

I frowned, there was not perfect translation "Foster brother" I finally settled on "To be accorded the same protection and obedience from my llwgwas that I would receive myself. Should anything happen to me he will be your bound servant for as long as you live. To protect you and yours with his life's blood if necessary."

That stopped Henry cold "And why would anything happen to you Rhys?"

I swallowed I could, and would trust Henry and Anuion was no longer capable of betrayal. "I suspect that Jane might be entertaining the notion of becoming a martyr," there was a lie by gross understatement Jane was half-way in love with the prospect despite everything I could do to distract her "should Mary choose to have her executed."

I paused.

"Surely you wouldn't do yourself harm" Henry scoffed lightly but there was worry in his enaid.

"Never! But we have" I paused again at a loss for words "become linked somehow, magically. I do not know what her death would do to me."

Anuion went a very unpleasant shade of gray.

"Sweet Jesus, Rhys" Henry rarely swore and his outburst surprised me "then break it for the love of God."

"I don't know how" I whispered back. Henry whirled on Anuion who shook his head "I was raised a Changeling myself and have no experience with this. You must speak of this to Lluniwer, my prince, immediately." He begged "If anything should happen to the girl…" His voice trailed off "Lluniwer was once an Udd. Of all of us he would be the most likely to know the proper course of action."

I would sooner stick my head on the block I thought but did not say it.

Henry shook me "Damn it Rhys don't be a stubborn fool. Don't let her kill you. Drag her out of the damn Tower and go!"

"I'll think of something." I promised him and he cursed a blue streak using language that would have made Skeffington blush. I never would have dreamed he had it in him.

"You had better" he spat at me finally before pulling me into a fierce hug "I will never forgive you if you get your fool self killed from some daft notion of chivalry."

"That might be the least of our worries" Anuion whispered too quietly for dynol ears to hear.

Historical Notes: In 1546 William Foxley who was a potmaker for the Royal Mint in the Tower did indeed, according to history, fall asleep for 15 nights and 14 days in spite of blows, pinches, and burning in attempts to wake him. The King's own physicians were called in to review the case. Apparently he woke feeling quite refreshed (though undoubtedly wondering about the burns and bruises!!) and lived for another 40 years in service of the Mint. I couldn't resist making it Mallory's fault. In 1548 there was an accident with ordnance that severely damaged the Lion Tower but I no idea if any of the Tower lions were injured. Another Tower tidbit that belongs more in A Prince of Avalon than here but that I forgot to mention, several Tower prisoners through the centuries who were ordered all but starved to death credited their miraculous survivals to the Tower cats bringing them prey. I suspect that they were using the cats to cover for guards who couldn't leave their fellow man to starve but who knows maybe the Tower cats do have a tradition of taking pity on the prisoners….

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