Read As the Sparks Fly Upward Online

Authors: Gilbert Morris

As the Sparks Fly Upward (8 page)

Brandon, as always, was amazed at the prodigious memory of his son. “You might do well to become a lawyer, Colin. You have such a memory you could quote cases going back to William the Conqueror.”

“Oh, no, sir! I would rather not be a lawyer.”

“You have to do something. You must have some profession.”

Colin looked at his father and smiled. “Well, maybe God will show me what to do.”

“Good boy! I trust that he will.” Brandon started to say more, but they were approached by a tall man who had an air of authority. His dark eyes seemed to see everything.

“Lord Stoneybrook, the queen wishes to see you alone.” He smiled and added, “I will keep your son company until you are finished.”

“Thank you. Son, this is Sir Francis Walsingham, one of the
queen's closest advisors. This is my younger son, Colin, Sir Francis.”

Colin bowed and said, “I am happy to meet you, sir.”

Walsingham said, “Come with me, Mister Winslow, and we'll have something to drink. Do you like wine?”

“Yes, my lord, I do.”

Colin followed Walsingham to a room, and Walsingham picked up a flagon, filled two silver cups, and smiled. “I hope you like it.”

Colin took a sip. “It's very good, sir.”

“I know your brother, Adam. Sir Francis Drake informs me that he is becoming an exceptional sailor.”

“Yes, sir, he's always been good at things like that. I-I'll never be the man that he is, and certainly not the man my father is. I'm not much good with a sword, and I never could handle a lance as Adam does.”

“England is in need of such men—but many men can handle a sword. What our country needs most is men with brains.” Colin saw that the man's deep-set eyes were fixed on him with a dark intensity. It made him uncomfortable, and he felt much as he did when he was in Queen Mary's presence—that he was being examined not only outwardly, but inwardly as well.

“Do you know what I do, Colin?” Walsingham asked abruptly.

“Not really, sir.”

Walsingham laughed, “Everyone else seems to know. I protect the queen.”

“But you don't even have a sword!”

“No, I depend on weapons that are stronger than a sword. I surround the queen with men who are excellent soldiers. They all have swords, but there are other dangers.”

“I don't understand, Sir Francis.”

“In this country, Colin, there are men who would harm our
queen. If they are not stopped, they will send assassins to murder Her Majesty. My job is to find out who these men are and arrest them before they can attack her. For this, Master Colin, I must have men who are intelligent, who know how to listen and watch for things. You, for example, might be a young man who could serve the queen in this fashion.”

Colin was shocked “Me, sir? I would not be good at a thing like that!”

“You go with your father to visit Mary, Queen of Scots?”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“You could watch and listen. Many would like to see Elizabeth removed so Mary could assume her throne. I can't be there to watch Mary in person. She would know at once that I am suspicious of her. But she would not be on her guard against a young man like yourself. You have visited her quite a few times, have you not?”

“My father has taken me four times. He has taken the rest of my family to visit her too.”

“Does the queen seem friendly?”

“Yes, sir. I believe she is lonely.”

Walsingham laughed. “She's not lonely, Mister Winslow. She is surrounded by her own servants and loyal friends. Now it might be that you would hear something or see something that would help me protect our queen.”

“But—I would not know what to look for.”

“Perhaps not, but if I told you what to look for, you would understand, wouldn't you?”

Colin felt the intensity of Walsingham's gaze and protested, “But sir, I can't betray a queen!”

“Not even to save your true queen?” Walsingham had a persuasive manner. He continued to speak of how important it was that traitors be found before they attacked the queen. Despite himself, Colin was deeply fascinated by this powerful man, but he still felt relieved when his father returned and said, “The queen would like
to see you, Colin, but she has many more important meetings.”

“This is a fine son you have, Lord Stoneybrook,” Walsingham smiled. “I've been explaining how our service to the queen works. Perhaps you would speak to him on how he might help protect Queen Elizabeth.”

Brandon shifted uneasily, and Walsingham observed this shrewdly. “I know it is not a thing to your liking. You would rather fight with a sword. But what I desire is to see the queen protected
before
an attack. Think about it, both of you.” He bowed and left without another word.

“We must go, Colin.” As soon as they were out of the palace, Brandon asked, “What did you two talk about?”

“He wants me to spy on Queen Mary.”

“That's what I have been doing for some time now.”

“Why do you do that, Father?”

“Because Elizabeth has asked me to, and though I don't like it, I agreed.”

“Do you want me to spy on Queen Mary?”

Brandon hesitated and then, with a touch of sadness, said, “We must do all we can to protect our sovereign. Think about it, Colin. It won't be difficult. All you have to do is to watch what goes on, who comes and goes—and keep your ears tuned to any talk about treason.”

“I will, sir!”

For three days Colin thought of little else other than his conversation with Sir Francis Walsingham. Finally, in despair, he went to Meg's house. He found her cooking lamb in a stewpot. She grinned at him, saying, “You must have quite a nose, boy. You always come when I am cooking.”

“You're a fine cook, Meg.” Colin sat down on a bench and watched her, and the two talked for some time. Finally, Colin said, “Meg, you remember I told you that one of our maids was very sick?”

“So you told me. Alice, you said her name was. What was wrong with her?”

“A pain in her stomach. It kept getting worse and worse. Three days after she got sick she died. Nothing the doctors gave her made her better.”

“Some things can't be cured by herbs, boy. A broken leg, for example. No medicine will cure that.”

Colin was quiet for some time and then said, “I wonder what was wrong with Alice.”

Meg looked over at him and, without saying anything else, scooped the meat into two carved wooden platters and motioned for Colin to eat. Colin took a large spoonful of the stew, then said abruptly, “But there must have been
some
way to find out what was wrong with her.”

“There
is
a way. You have to look inside and see what looks bad.”

Colin was shocked. “Why, you can't look inside a person!”

“Why not? You look inside birds and animals all the time”

“But—that's different!”

“Really not so different. Last month Giles Henderson sent for me to treat his sick cow. He didn't know what was wrong with her, of course. I reached in through her elimination tract and found a growth. I told him about it and offered to cut it out. The foolish fellow wouldn't hear of it, so the cow died.”

“You mean if someone had cut Alice open they might have found a growth like that?”

“It is possible.”

Colin thought,
Maybe Meg
is
a witch! Only a witch would think of such a thing.
The very thought of cutting open a human being brought a chill to him. He had grown accustomed to opening animals, snakes, and birds, but this was completely different. He asked thoughtfully, “Have you ever done such a thing? Cut into someone?”

Meg's eyes gleamed and then she laughed, a high-pitched
cackle. “It's against the law, boy. If I said yes, you could have me hanged!”

Colin ate his stew, knowing that he would find out more about cutting into people from Meg, but he changed the subject. “Meg, there is a man of the court, a servant of the queen; his name is Walsingham.”

“Yes. Everybody knows him. He's a clever man, he is, and the queen trusts him as she trusts no other—except for Lord Burghley.”

“He wants me to spy on Queen Mary and report to him.”

“And that's something you don't fancy?”

“I don't want to be a spy.”

“We all have to do things we don't like sometimes. Here, have some more meat.”

“No, I've had plenty.” Colin set his bowl down on the table, and reaching into his inner pocket, came out with a small pouch. “I got a present for you when I was in London.”

“A present?” Meg stared at the leather bag. “For old Meg?”

“You are not old, Meg. Yes, it's for you.”

Meg put her bowl down, took the small leather pouch, and opened the drawstring. She turned the pouch upside down and then stood staring at the pearl earrings that glowed with a life of their own. “You bought these for me? Why, they're too fine for me, boy!”

“No, they're not.”

Meg looked up and Colin saw tears in her eyes. She whispered, “Thank you, Colin, and believe this, when I'm buried, I'll be wearin' these!”

November passed quickly, but not a day went by that Colin did not think of two things: Francis Walsingham's offer and Meg's hint that opening up a body was not an impossible thing. Two weeks before Christmas, Colin was in his room dissecting a mouse. He heard his name called, and stepping outside he saw
his father looking up the stairs. “Come downstairs, Colin. There is someone I want you to meet.”

Colin went downstairs and Brandon led him to his study, where his mother and a gentleman were waiting. The man was small, with delicate mild features. He was smooth shaven and had a pair of close-set brown eyes. “This is Mister John Chadburn, Colin. He's the master at Oxford. Mr. Chadburn, this is our son Colin.”

“I'm most pleased to meet you, Master Winslow, and to give you an early welcome to Oxford.”

Brandon saw the expression change on Colin's face and said quickly, “Your mother and I have decided to send you there to study.”

Colin felt his heart go cold. “But I don't want to go, sir!”

“You can't stay here the rest of your life. Mr. Chadburn will help you.”

As soon as Colin left the room, Chadburn said, “The boy's not happy, Lord Stoneybrook.”

“No, he is apprehensive.”

“How does he do with his studies?”

“Outstanding! He is brilliant and has a memory such as you have never seen. But he is somewhat difficult. He can't seem to find his place.”

Eden had said little during the interview, but now she came over and took Brandon's arm. “I know it is necessary, Brandon, but it breaks my heart. Colin's not like Adam. He is a gentle young man.”

Chadburn tried to make them feel better. “I will watch out for him as best I can. But you should know, scholars there can be hard on new boys.”

“It's that way in the army and everywhere else,” Brandon said heavily. “He must learn to be strong—to stand on his own two feet.” Brandon gripped Eden's hand and said, “I know you don't like this, dear, but I think it is essential now.”

Eden did not answer. She dropped her eyes and quietly murmured, “I know. We'll miss him, but he needs to learn where his life is going to take him.”

“Oxford is a place for young men who haven't found their calling,” Chadburn said. “I'm certain that your son will find his way.”

6

January 15, 1579

T
he sun was shining with a sidereal brilliance over the spires of Oxford, but the beauty of the university meant nothing to young Colin Winslow. He stood uncertainly in his student garb, watching as his father rode away and finally disappeared into the distance. Colin fought down a desperate longing to run after him.
It wouldn't do any good—I've begged them for weeks not to send me to this place.
He didn't know a soul there, and when he glanced at the throngs of students laughing and talking loudly, a sense of loneliness and fear paralyzed him.

“Well, now, you must be new.”

Colin turned quickly and found himself facing a tall, husky young man wearing the black gown that marked him as a student. Locks of tawny hair escaped the black mortarboard that he wore tilted at a sharp angle.

“Yes, sir, this is my first day. I'm Colin Winslow.”

“I'm Knox Traverson. Welcome to Oxford. I suppose you're glad to be here?”

“Not really, sir.”

Traverson blinked with surprised. “I'm surprised to hear that, Winslow—and you don't have to call me ‘sir.' You know, most of us couldn't wait to get out from under the rule of our parents.”

“I liked it at home.”

“Well, you'll like it here after you get settled in. Are you headed for a class?”

“Yes. Latin.”

Knox smiled. “The first form, I take it? We'll go together. I've failed the blasted course twice already. Come along, we're already a little late.”

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