Twilight of a Queen (2 page)

“King Henry is safe for now and will be as long as he never seeks to harm the duke. If His Majesty sheds so much as a drop of de Guise’s blood, Paris will rise up in revolt.”

“A clever answer, monsieur, but again, no great revelation. I have been warning my son about that very thing these past two years and more. Tell me something specific. Tell me …”

How much longer do I have? Will I be dead soon?

Catherine moistened her lips, but could not bring herself to ask. Did she really want to know the hour of her
own death? It was her greatest dread, facing the emptiness of the grave, being forgotten, her life and power reduced to nothing but dust.

Instead she framed the one question that would be the true test of Xavier’s abilities.

“There is an object that I have long been searching for. Will I ever find it?”

Long moments passed without Xavier answering, beads of sweat gathering on his brow as he stared intently at something veiled from her gaze. Or feigned to do so.

“Aha,” Catherine thought cynically. “So, my clever rogue. I have stumped even your ability to come up with a glib answer.”

She was on the verge of bringing this farce to a halt when Xavier replied, “No, you will never find the
Book of Shadows
. It was destroyed in London.”

Catherine stiffened in shock. Few besides daughters of the earth like herself even knew of the existence of the
Book of Shadows
, a compendium of ancient knowledge and dark secrets long lost to the present-day world. And fewer people still knew that Catherine’s desperate search for the book had stretched across the channel to England.

“How?” she demanded. “How was the book destroyed?”

“By fire. An Irishwoman named Catriona O’Hanlon, an emissary of the Lady of Faire Isle, battled with your agent, Ambroise Gautier. The O’Hanlon woman triumphed and set the book ablaze.”

Catherine emitted a soft cry. How could Xavier know about these things unless the man did indeed possess the sight? Not since the late Nostradamus had Catherine encountered
anyone possessed of such great ability. But any elation she felt at acquiring such a powerful seer was dimmed by what Xavier was telling her.

It had been over a year since she had sent her spy Ambroise Gautier to England in quest of the book. As the weeks had stretched into months, Catherine had been nigh feverish in her impatience, but she had had more pressing matters to occupy her, the constant civil war that threatened to bankrupt the royal treasury, the rising power of the ambitious duc de Guise, her son Henry’s increasing instability, and her own failing health.

She had fretted, wondering if Gautier had acquired the
Book of Shadows
and decided to keep it for himself. But the book would be useless to him. The grimoire was written in code, a language so ancient, most wise women would not be able to decipher it.

Catherine had continued to hope that Gautier would return to her with the book, eager to claim the generous reward she had offered him. Xavier’s words had extinguished that hope at last.

Catherine wrapped her arms across her bosom to stem the tremors of emotion that coursed through her; bitter disappointment warred with red-hot fury, her rage directed at Ariane Cheney Deauville.

As the Lady of Faire Isle, Ariane was acclaimed as a leader among the daughters of the earth. Especially among those wise women who believed as Ariane did, that a daughter of the earth’s sole purpose was to be a healer, a beacon of light in an ignorant world.

As much as Catherine had been determined to acquire all that dark knowledge contained in the
Book of Shadows
,
Ariane had been just as bent upon seeing it destroyed. It appeared that Ariane had won.

Damn the woman for her ignorant naïveté and shortsightedness. Catherine’s very soul sickened when she thought of how she could have used that
Book
. The grimoire was believed to have described weapons so fearsome, Catherine could easily have crushed the duc de Guise and any other enemy that threatened her. Spells so potent her youth and vigor could have been restored. Some said the
Book of Shadows
even contained the answer to the riddle of life itself, the secret to immortality. Now all those powerful secrets were lost forever. Gone, all gone, taking all hope with them.

Catherine closed her eyes, fighting off the black tide of despair that threatened to engulf her. When she had regained command over herself, she turned back to where Xavier knelt before her.

“There was a girl who had possession of the
Book of Shadows,”
Catherine said in a hollow voice. “Although quite young, she was reputed to be such a gifted sorceress, she could translate the book. Her name was Megaera, although many called her the Silver Rose and claimed that one day she would destroy me. What has happened to her? Is she still a threat?”

Once again Xavier paused over his answer, a furrow between his brows. “The girl has vanished from England. But without the
Book of Shadows
, she poses no threat to Your Grace.”

Vanished? Yes, and Catherine had no doubt where. After destroying the
Book of Shadows
, the O’Hanlon woman would have whisked Megaera off to Faire Isle.
Never mind how dangerous the Silver Rose was, the idol of a cult of demented witches. Ariane would only have seen the girl as a child needing her protection.

If Megaera had indeed taken refuge on Faire Isle, that might explain certain things, one event in particular. Despite all of her healing knowledge, the Lady of Faire Isle had remained barren for years. Then last Christmas, Ariane had given birth to a son.

Catherine had been bitterly envious. The Lady was delivered of a healthy son while the royal cradle remained empty. Catherine’s mewling daughter-in-law, Louise, had tried everything to conceive a child, purgatives, herbal baths, and pilgrimages to shrines. All to no avail. Scornful Parisians gossiped that it was the fault of the king. If the foppish Henry spent more time with his wife and less with his painted mignons, France might have its desperately needed heir.

The birth of a lusty boy would do much to shore up her son’s tottering throne, win for Henry, if not the love, at least the respect of his people. Catherine had swallowed her pride and written Ariane a letter beginning with honeyed congratulations and ending with a demand to know how Ariane had done it. Catherine still chafed when she recalled Ariane’s dry reply.

“Considering that Your Grace has borne ten children, I would hardly think it necessary to explain to you how babes are conceived.”

Ariane had concluded by describing her son’s birth as “a blessed miracle.”

But was it? Or was it more likely that the saintly Ariane
had been desperate enough to consult some darker source, that child sorceress, that Silver Rose.

Lost in her own musings, Catherine started at the sound of Xavier’s voice. He was speaking although she had asked him no further questions.

“If Your Grace seeks power, you must look to the New World, not the old. Deep in the forests of the Amazon, there are secrets to be discovered, magic undreamed …”

Catherine ignored him, the New World of no interest to her. All the magic she desired was much closer to home. If it was true that Megaera had been able to translate the
Book of Shadows
, then the girl was likely clever enough to remember much of what she had learned. Rather than a threat to Catherine, might not the Silver Rose prove to be an incredible asset?

Catherine’s pulse quickened with a glimmer of hope. She was scarcely aware of Xavier coming out of his trance until he attempted to rise. He staggered and might have fallen, but he was steadied by his giant companion. Shaking his head to clear it, Xavier stepped past the ring of candles to join her by the window.

The cold seeping through the aperture made Catherine draw her mantle closer, but Xavier seemed impervious to the chill air upon his bare skin. He braced one hand along the stonework and drew in a deep breath that caused his chest to expand.

Staring at his physique, Catherine noticed a detail that had escaped her before. His broad back was latticed with long white scars. Someone had made a vigorous attempt to break him beneath the lash. Studying the hard angle of
Xavier’s jaw, the hint of arrogance that played about his mouth, Catherine doubted that they had succeeded.

He rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. “Forgive me, Your Grace. The trance is very taxing. I cannot maintain it for long.”

“That is quite all right. This session proved most productive.”

“Truly? I cannot always remember all that takes place when in my hypnotic state. My head feels as fogged as the city.”

He gestured toward the clouded world below. “The blasted mist still has not dissipated. Everyone is saying this thick a fog is most unnatural.”

“No doubt they all accuse me of conjuring it.”

“Did you?”

Catherine arched her brow. Many whispered about her suspected knowledge of the dark arts, but few ever dared to tax her with it. Xavier’s boldness surprised a bark of laughter from Catherine. She gave his arm a playful slap.

“You overestimate my powers, Captain Xavier. I am pleased to discover that I have not overestimated yours.”

“And I am pleased that Your Majesty found me of use.”

“I hope to put you to greater use still,” she murmured, her hand lingering on his firm warm skin.

He smiled, but moved away from her, retrieving his discarded shirt. As he shrugged into it, Catherine’s fingers twitched with an urge to help him smooth the linen folds over that powerful body. She curled her fingers at her side to stay the strange impulse, wondering what the devil had come over her.

As Xavier did up the laces on his shirt, he apologized, “I am glad you find me useful, but I could not attempt another of these sessions that soon.”

“It is not only your second sight that interests me, but your skills as a sea captain. I want you to undertake a voyage for me.”

His face lit up. “Above all things it is what I wish to do. Give me a small fleet of ships. Three or two, even one stalwart vessel would do. I would sail to the far corners of the earth, bring back such riches—”

She checked his eager outburst. “I have a much closer destination in mind. Are you familiar with the Faire Isle?”

The light in his face dimmed. He replied warily, “I have heard of the place. Just off the coast of Brittany, isn’t it? The island of the witches.”

“Only the ignorant call it so. True, the island is inhabited mostly by women. It is governed by one in particular. Ariane Deauville, known as the Lady of Faire Isle. She is extremely gifted in the arts of healing.”

“If you are interested in healing arts, you could learn far more from the shamans in Brazil. You have already experienced a sample of that. The chacruna bark elixir I gave you appears to have done you much good.”

The brew had done much to ease her pain, invigorated her enough to make the difficult climb to the top of the tower. But Catherine’s joints had already begun to throb, making her dread the trek back down.

“Sadly, the effects of your elixir are only temporary. I am looking for something more permanent.”

“Like a Fountain of Youth? The Arawak tribe claims
that there is such a thing in the land the Spanish call
La Florida
. A miraculous spring that could restore anyone who bathes in the waters to the full bloom of youth. I could—”

“—waste years hunting for such a thing,” Catherine interrupted. Years she did not have. “I have no wish to send you in search of a myth.”

“Then exactly what does Your Grace want?”

“The girl who calls herself Megaera. Despite her youth, she is reputed to be a powerful sorceress, possessing ancient knowledge, perhaps of the mystery of life itself.”

“And this girl strikes you as being less of a myth than the Fountain of Youth?” Xavier scoffed.

“I have already seen evidence of her power. She knows how to grow deadly roses, how to fashion a knife with a blade so needle-thin, it can deliver poison direct into a man’s veins.”

“This girl sounds more like the bringer of death than life.”

“Nonetheless, I want to see her, test the extent of her knowledge for myself. From what you said in your trance, I believe she now dwells on Faire Isle.”

“Then invite her to come to your court.”

“She is unlikely to accept such an invitation,” Catherine said. “In the past, there has been some … unpleasantness between us.”

Such as when I sent an assassin to kill her
.

Catherine swept such thoughts beneath a bland smile. “That is why I want you to go to Faire Isle to fetch her. The women of the island are wary of strangers, but ships frequently dock there to trade. The presence of a sea captain such as yourself would not be considered remarkable.

“You could find Megaera and persuade her to come to Paris. If any man is capable of exerting enough charm, I am sure it would be you.”

“And if the girl won’t be charmed?”

“Then I am confident you are clever enough to find some other way to bring the girl to me.”

“What if I am disinclined to employ my cleverness upon such a mission?” Xavier asked.

“You have entertained me greatly with your visits, all the stirring tales of your voyages. I am also greatly impressed with your abilities as a seer.” Catherine sighed. “But alas, there are those in Paris who do not hold you in such high esteem, one in particular.

“The Spanish ambassador has waited upon me. He has been regaling me with stories about a certain French corsair known as the Jaguar. Perhaps you might have heard of him.”

Xavier’s lips twitched with the hint of a smile, but he replied blandly, “No, I cannot say that I have.”

“Apparently, this corsair has gained rather a sinister reputation for preying upon Spanish and Portuguese merchants. He possesses such uncanny foresight, he always seems to know just where and when to strike. The Spanish are convinced he must be employing sorcery.”

Catherine studied Xavier carefully for any sign of tension or alarm. He merely looked amused.

“And the Spanish ambassador suspects me of being this Jaguar? His Eminence struck me as such a drab dour man. Who would ever have imagined he had such a colorful imagination?” Xavier grinned. “So do the Spanish want this Jaguar hanged for piracy or burned at the stake?”