Deathscent: Intrigues of the Reflected Realm. Robin Jarvis

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СКАЧАТЬ Hell!” he breathed.

      Both Henry and Adam recalled what the groom had told them about Doctor Dee. Over there in the unlit corner, a small, dwarf-like figure was brushing the dust and hay from its shoulders, then through the shadows it came.

      “Gentlemen,” the old astrologer announced, “permit me to introduce my own personal secretary – Lantern.”

      The squat shape ambled towards them, the discs of its eyes glowing with a pale green radiance. Adam gazed at the stranger in wonder. It was a mechanical, but the most peculiar one that he had ever seen.

      Fashioned in the shape of a short, round man, Doctor Dee’s secretary was wrought almost entirely from copper. The head was a gleaming globe and, apart from the large circular eyes, the only other feature was a hinged hatch in place of the nose.

      The body was also hammered out of the flame-coloured metal, forming a tubby doublet with rivets for buttons, and a high collar with a crimped and corrugated edge. Scarlet velvet covered the arms and legs, and the hands were protected by white gauntlets. A conical hat, almost as tall as the rest of him, sat on top of the domed head and Adam was intrigued to see that a grilled window was cut into the front. It was too dark to see what, if anything, was within.

      Standing before the astrologer, the outlandish creation executed a low, courteous bow and three copper feathers affixed to a riveted band about the hat scraped over the floor.

      “Good evening, Lantern,” Doctor Dee greeted as warmly as if addressing a real person. “I trust your journey here in the travelling chest was not too disagreeable?”

      Not even the most expensive mechanicals had the power of speech. Lantern’s burnished head slid from side to side, then the secretary bowed once more.

      “Tell me,” the astrologer said, “have you witnessed all that occurred this night?”

      Lantern nodded and the trio of feathers jiggled up and down.

      Doctor Dee indicated the fearful groom. “Did Jenks commit this dastard crime?” he asked.

      The mechanical gave a forceful shake of its head, and the groom sank against the wall, sobbing his gratitude.

      “I was convinced as much,” the old man muttered. “What, then, were the circumstances of this tragedy?”

      Executing another bow, Lantern trotted over to the four remaining horses and began to mime the events he had seen. Reaching as high as his diminutive stature allowed, he pretended to polish their flanks and brush the tangles from their tails.

      It was rather embarrassing for Jenks because the mechanical repeated everything he had observed in accurate detail. He was adept at mimicking the groom’s mannerisms and copied the arrogant jaunty swagger perfectly. It was soon proved, however, that Jenks adored the horses in his care, for Lantern kept throwing his arms about them in a fashion which appeared quite absurd and comical.

      Then, with a nimble hop, he sat cross-legged on the ground and shovelled imaginary food into his non-existent mouth, wagging his head and rubbing his copper stomach as if enjoying it heartily.

      “The supper was to your liking I see,” the Doctor remarked to the groom.

      Jenks managed a weak smile; the provisions had been tastier than anything he was accustomed to.

      Lantern stretched up his arms as though fatigued, then rose, inspected the horses again, and wandered over to the straw where he eased himself down and lay in precisely the same hollow that Jenks had created earlier.

      Walsingham shot the Doctor an impatient glance. “A very pretty mummery,” he said. “But what happened then?”

      The mechanical bobbed up again and shook off the persona of the groom. Striding to the entrance he assumed a new role and came sneaking into the barn, looking this way and that and advancing with nervous, jerky movements.

      “Now we have it,” Doctor Dee declared. “The third player in this lethal equation.”

      Lantern stole over to the empty impression in the straw, rubbing his gauntleted hands together as he had seen the malefactor do before. Taking pains not to make any sound, he performed the planting of the incriminating bottle in the sleeping groom’s purse, then turned to where Belladonna had stood.

      Holding out his small hands to appease and calm the high-spirited steed, he stalked towards the now empty spot, his copper shoulders shaking as if with mirth. Deftly, his palms travelled across unseen contours until, with an expert twist which had obviously popped one of the steel plates free, he reached up, holding something carefully between his fingers.

      “Enough,” Walsingham rapped. “The rest is plain. Who, then, is responsible?”

      The burlesque over, Lantern took a side step to cast off the villainous character. Returning to his master, his round head revolved slowly in order to survey everyone present.

      From the door, where Henry was still standing, those green lenses panned through the barn. Over Master Tewkes they roamed, then Jenks, Lord Richard, Adam and the remains of Belladonna, until at last they rested upon Sir Francis Walsingham.

      “Is the rogue present?” the Queen’s advisor demanded.

      Lantern bowed then walked purposefully towards the entrance. Watching him approach, Henry Wattle began to splutter, but there was no need to be alarmed, for the copper figure veered aside and pointed an accusing finger at Master Arnold Tewkes.

      “What game is this?” the man exclaimed in an injured voice. “Get away from me, you walking kettle!”

      The mechanical stood his ground.

      “Tewkes,” Walsingham hissed. “What have you to say?”

      “Only that I find no jest in this. Remove this clunking hobgoblin at once, before I lose my temper.”

      Lantern continued to point. Master Tewkes snorted angrily and lashed out with a vicious kick which sent his denouncer staggering back.

      “Explain yourself!” Walsingham growled.

      Master Tewkes drew himself up. “Surely, My Lord,” he objected, “you are not serious in this? I have served you faithfully for many years, yet you are ready to accept this silent clowning as evidence against me. I am dismayed and affronted.”

      “Lantern is never mistaken,” Doctor Dee said firmly. “His vision is often deeper and clearer than mine own.”

      “He is at fault, I tell you!” Tewkes denied hotly.

      The mechanical shook its head and again the finger pointed. Incensed, the furious man sprang forward, pushing Lantern off balance then leaping on top of him. In an instant he had wrenched the copper breastplate away and spat upon the exposed, delicate workings.

      The little figure flailed beneath him as Master Tewkes raised his fist to smash the glass vessels of the controlling ichors. “You’ll accuse no more!” he ranted. “A pan for stewing cabbages is all you’ll be fit for when I’m done.”

      Before the threat could be carried out, Doctor Dee and the groom dragged him clear, and Jenks pinned him against СКАЧАТЬ