The Named (27 page)

Ethan’s father – Shaun, as he has asked me to call him – will assume the identity of a distant relative of the king’s own grandfather, King Edward III, and has his job cut out in earning the king’s trust in the short time he has with him. But claiming he has lived most of his life in France – a country Richard longs to control should help.

Jimmy is to be the fictitious Lord Hamersley’s page William. They go on ahead of us, arriving a few days in advance. After they’ve left, Arkarian explains to Ethan
and me that we’re to let go of any former impulse to aid King Richard II. ‘Your mission to protect him is over,’ he emphasises. ‘Any lingering feelings must be put firmly to the side. Remember, your mission tonight is
not
to protect the king, but to make sure history runs its true course.’

‘Then what are we to do?’ Ethan asks.

‘Your father and Jimmy may need you, just as Isabel needed you on your last mission. Marduke may add a surprise element. Be careful, watch your father’s back, and Jimmy’s too. Remember, Marduke is roaming where he shouldn’t – in the past. It’s bad enough that the Order of Chaos interferes with history, but Marduke’s appearance is completely unwarranted.’

I understand what Arkarian is saying. ‘He’s using the Order to satisfy his own desire for revenge.’

‘And apparently the Goddess is OK with this,’ Ethan adds.

Arkarian runs a hand through his blue hair. ‘So he says. She is apparently taken in by his charm.’ The very thought sends shivers darting through me. ‘Still,’ Arkarian continues, ‘you mustn’t think about that now. You have your mission to complete. Upon your return, you will come back here for a strategic meeting. Then we’ll face Marduke and his supporters.’

Arkarian pulls me aside for a moment, explaining in hushed tones how the Tribunal are thinking that if all goes well tonight, Ethan could be awarded his wings as a reward. I nearly scream out with excitement.

Ethan comes over. ‘What are you two whispering about?’

‘Can I tell him?’

‘Later,’ Arkarian says. Now the two of you go. And
be careful.’

With this final warning he bids us farewell, sending us on to the Citadel, where Ethan and I soon find ourselves clothed in elegant garments. My hair this time is transformed into a rich burgundy colour, most of which is piled high atop my head with a few ringlets dropping down. My skin has been made fair with an abundance of freckles, while Ethan’s skin is deep olive, his hair black and thick to his shoulders.

We glance in the mirrors provided, impressed and slightly amused. I run my hand down over the full emerald-green skirt, luxuriating in the rich silky feel, then bunch the skirt between my fingers to check out my feet. They are encased in soft brown leather boots.

Ethan looks at me and gives a low whistle. ‘Not bad!’ I whack his shoulder, but wonder silently whether there’s anything behind the compliment. It seems all I do lately, especially since my last mission, is try to second-guess what Ethan really feels about me – beyond being my Trainer, beyond the fun we have together. After he saved my life I felt so close to him but so far he hasn’t changed how he acts around me. He hasn’t even once tried to kiss me for real. I’m starting to think we’re destined to only ever be friends, and that maybe he still has feelings for Rochelle. Strangely the thought of only ever being friends has a comfortable feel about it, for I have come to value Ethan’s friendship above anything else, and, well, when I close my eyes at night these days, it’s not Ethan’s face that swims into my dreams. But one whose eyes are a deep violet.

‘Come on!’ Ethan tugs me to the door, where the stairway meets us and leads us to a room on a higher level.

From this room we jump, side by side, and land in a corner of the Great Hall of Westminster Palace. There is a bustle of activity but no one is looking in our direction.

I land well, keeping my arms tucked neatly by my sides this time. Ethan grins at me. ‘Well done!’

Excitement at achieving a proper landing at last, as well as the euphoria of being in the past again, has me slightly in a whirl. I can’t help telling him what he has longed to hear, ‘You know when Arkarian and I were whispering together earlier?’

‘Yeah?’

‘He was telling me that if this mission goes well, the Tribunal is thinking of giving you your wings as a reward.’

My words take him completely by surprise. He grabs my shoulders, holding me out from him, and stares for a second, his mouth gaping open. ‘I can’t believe this,’ he calls out. ‘I might get my wings after all! Yes, yes, yes!’ He picks me up and whirls me around.

I thump his shoulder repeatedly, realising that my timing was slightly off. A private moment would have been far more sensible. ‘Put me down! Everyone’s looking at us.’

He lowers me to the floor, still grinning his head off, then realises what I’m on about as he notices that we have aroused the attention of everyone around us. He nudges me with his elbow and nods towards the front of the hall. I gasp in awe as King Richard II himself, whose attention we must also have inadvertently attracted, starts walking towards us. The crowd parts to allow him passage.

‘Now look what you’ve done!’ I whisper.

‘
I’ve
done! If you hadn’t told me that fantastic news about my wings …’

‘How should I know you were going to pick me up and—’

The king stops directly in front of us. Ethan bows wide and low. I drop a deep curtsy at his side.

The king waves us up. And after staring at us for a few long moments, his head tilts to one side. ‘I know you pair. We’ve met before.’

Ethan and I exchange brief worried glances. How on earth could the King recognise us? Only our eyes have remained the same.

‘I don’t believe so, Your Majesty,’ Ethan says. ‘Let me introduce myself—’

But he doesn’t get a chance, King Richard shuts him up with his raised hand. ‘Don’t bother. I do hope you’re feeling better today. It took the servants a whole day to clean the mess you left behind in my bedroom the last time you visited.’

Ethan and I exchange stricken looks.

‘I knew we’d meet again,’ King Richard says with a slight nod of his royal head.

The king turns his back on us, leaving us to stand there staring at his velvet garments. But then he gives a slight wave with a raised hand, indicating that we should follow.

We walk through the crowd that parts to make way for us. Shaun and Jimmy must be among them, but we can’t look too searchingly. We are invited to sit at the main table on a raised platform on either side of the king and his very young wife – a mere child of nine – who shares my name, but, as I recall, spells it slightly differently.

I soon learn Queen Isabella doesn’t speak anything but French. She hardly eats her meal at all, and barely sips her wine. As I’m sitting next to the young queen I try to make conversation with her, but my mind is on the king and Ethan, at how well they’re getting along, mostly laughing together and drinking lots of wine.

The meal passes smoothly. Between courses, jesters come to entertain the party. But something doesn’t feel right. I sense that someone is keeping their eye on the king and Ethan. As the evening wears on, this feeling grows so strong that I can’t stop looking around to see if I can spot who it is, glancing into the shadows behind me and around the hall.

A man comes up beside me, speaks briefly to the young queen in her native tongue, making her giggle, then whispers to me, ‘There are two of them here, one who acts as a servant.’ Startled, I look into his eyes. This must be Shaun. He returns my smile but continues his warning. ‘She has already passed you twice. Once she tipped poison from her ring into your wine goblet.’

‘What? Did I drink it?’

‘William replaced it while you were talking to the queen.’

‘Oh. Remind me to thank him. And the other one? You said there were two?’

‘The other one is a man. This would be his mission, I suspect, the woman his assistant. William informs me that he’s also Marduke’s right arm. He’s disguised as the king’s chief adviser, Lord Whitby. He just left the hall to arrange a meeting with the king and his council. He’s the one with the heavy growth of facial hair.’

‘I take it this Lord Whitby will be giving his advice to the king this evening?’

‘Certainly. He’s wormed his way into the king’s favour; not an easy task these days. The king trusts few. I’ve been lucky so far; he believes my ties to his grandfather.’

‘What should Hugo and I do tonight while you’re in this meeting?’

Shaun glances wryly across at where the king and Ethan are chatting amicably together and raises his eyebrows. ‘Watching, I think. When did you two become such close friends with the king?’

‘When Richard was ten and we saved him from attempted murder.’

‘He saw and remembered you?’

‘The mission didn’t turn out as planned.
You
were trying to wake Ethan at the time.’

‘Oh, I see.’

The king sees Shaun and waves him over, introducing him to Ethan. They talk for a few minutes until King Richard announces to the crowd that he’s withdrawing to a meeting with his advisers. As he steps back, he asks Ethan to join him, then speaks with his young wife in French. She looks relieved that she’s not needed any more tonight. But before she runs off, he suggests she play the hostess a little longer, taking me for a walk around the palace, showing me the gardens and yards.

Personally, I love the idea of getting a first-hand tour of the grounds and rooms of Westminster Palace, but Ethan reaches out and takes my hand, pulling me to his side. ‘If you don’t mind, Sire, Lady Madeline has a remarkably astute mind, especially for a woman.’

I kick his shin from behind.

‘Ouch! A-and she would …’ Quickly he tries to regain his equilibrium as my kick was harder than I originally meant. ‘… dearly love to observe the meeting this evening, with your permission of course.’

King Richard peers at me closely. ‘As I have witnessed her surprising talents once already, it would be a pleasure to have your company this evening, my lady. Please join us. There is ample room at the table.’

With this the three of us follow Richard up a winding stairwell and down a long hallway to a set of carved wooden doors. Inside, the room is warm but smoky, with a large oval table at its centre, twelve high-backed chairs surrounding it. In five of these chairs men of various ages sit having a discussion, until they notice the king and jump to their feet. The doors close behind us and the man with the big beard, standing just slightly away from the table, bows low to the king. King Richard introduces him as Lord Whitby, and makes Ethan and me known to the rest of his council. The men bow slightly, then all ten of us sit down, the sound of scraping chairs on polished floors loud in the high-ceilinged room.

The conversation starts with the matter foremost on Richard’s mind: is now an appropriate time to go to Ireland? Most of the lords at the table are in agreement with Lord Whitby: it really isn’t a good time to leave England. The points they raise make a lot of sense. But then Shaun reminds the king why he wanted to go in the first place, and how important it has become that the king re-establish his English authority in Ireland.

Lord Whitby responds, reminding the king of his cousin Henry’s ambitions. Shaun remains calm but
firm in his opposing arguments. The conversation becomes heated, and Lord Whitby grows visibly agitated. King Richard shakes his head and thumps his fist down hard on the table. ‘Enough!’ Then, surprising everyone, he looks straight at me. ‘I want to hear from the lovely Lady Madeline, who has been sitting among this rabble quietly examining the situation. She saved my life once so I know she has only my best interests at heart.’

His words astonish me into speechlessness. Everyone’s eyes bear down on me, most of them wide with surprise, as they would be, considering the king is asking for a lady’s opinion. A lady they only just met a few minutes ago. And of course I realise what a responsibility has suddenly been thrust upon me. If Richard goes to Ireland at this time, John of Gaunt’s son Henry will return to London from exile, something he can’t do while Richard is still here. And what happens next is in the history books: Henry will gather support, and while Richard is in Ireland, he will have him deposed and thrown into jail, where Richard will be left to die of starvation.

And as much as I don’t personally want to be the cause of Richard’s death, I still have to do the right thing according to history. That’s what I’m here for. Otherwise there’ll be consequences.

Ethan peers at me with narrow eyes, as if he too is just working out what will happen to Richard if our mission is successful. And by the sudden look of horror on his face, it’s only now dawning on him that this mission is meant to make sure Richard is deposed and murdered, so Henry IV can be crowned king.

Ethan looks as if he’s about to stop me from speaking.
I get a sudden image of what he’s going to do just moments before his mouth opens. I throw my hand up, halting him before he utters one word, and quickly give the king my full attention. ‘You honour me, Sire.’ I bow my head, then look up and lock eyes with His Royal Highness. ‘I do believe you should follow what’s in your heart, trust in yourself and your original plan for a military expedition. Don’t let these men of wisdom sway you from what you know is best. Do what you feel here.’ I place a hand over the centre of my chest.

The king sits back and heaves a sigh that could only be regarded as intense relief. He nods. ‘I most certainly will, Lady Madeline. My deepest thanks for making my decision so clear to me.’

Lord Whitby jumps out of his chair, his hands raised in anger. ‘This is an outrage! Your Majesty, how can you take the word of a mere woman?’

King Richard takes offence on my behalf. ‘I most certainly can. And as I am the king I’ll ask you to leave the room, Lord Whitby, if you can’t mind your manners and stop insulting my guest. I’ve had enough of your chattering and false claims these past weeks. I think you mean to sway me. Be careful or you’ll find yourself in exile with Bolingbroke and Thomas Mowbray.’

Lord Whitby realises his mission is failing. He starts to panic. Surprising everyone around the table, he draws his sword. The others at the table, including Shaun, jump back and raise their swords in defence of the king.