to every
last man, woman and child. Not even a dog would survive the
slaughter.
The
Privy Council had no need for these games. Tamburlaine was my best,
most invincible hero, he had lent me some of his power and I never
felt as good as when he walked invisibly by my side. His boast came
back to me. I hold the fates bound fast in iron chains.
And
with my hand turn fortune's wheel about; And sooner will the sun fall
from his sphere Than Tamburlaine be slain or overcome. Tamburlaine
the Great remained unvanquished to the last, reducing all in his path
to rubble. But I was his creator and would outdo any angry God. I
would destroy my creature turned enemy, just as soon as I knew who he
was. I lay back on the bed, closed my eyes and slept, the scraps of
linen growing damp in my curled palm. The knock wasn't my landlady's
tentative tap, but an authoritative rapping which brought to mind the
Queen's Messenger and set my heart racing. Bidding the visitor, `Wait
one minute,' I put my eye to the crack I had contrived in the
doorjamb long months ago when I had first rented the rooms. The
sliver wasn't wide enough to reveal the whole man. Just an impression
of brown leather jerkin and russet breeches. The figure moved,
blocking the view as if he knew he was being watched. I kept my hand
on my dagger and opened the door quick onto a stranger. He saw my
combative stance and took a step back, making it clear he wished me
no threat, but smiling as if amused I should think myself any match
for him. `Master Marlowe? I nodded.
`I
represent someone eager to meet you.' The man in front of me had the
dimensions of a smallish oak. Though his bulk might hamper his
swiftness, his strength would more than compensate. I guessed he
wasn't inviting me for a feast and bought time by wilfully
misunderstanding him.
`I
appreciate the invitation, but I have many other obligations.' I
gestured towards the open door. `Bid your master good health and
thank him for his compliments.'
He
looked around impatiently.
`We
have no time for disputing. Make haste, my master requests you come
to his house where you will hear something to your advantage.'
`Your
master's name??
'Is
not for casual ears.' He shifted impatiently. `I assure you no harm
awaits. Though harm will certainly find you, should you refuse my
invitation.'
The
unavoidable moment where I hit him and he knocked me around the room
before taking me where he had always intended was fast approaching. I
took a deep breath and hoped it wouldn't hurt too much. I made a
flourish towards the open door.
`I
would rather you accept my invitation and leave.'
He
laughed.
`Master
Marlowe, I wish you no ill. But I have instructions to make sure you
reach my patron's house and reach it you will, alert or sleeping. You
choose the way.'
It
is suicide to start a fight with a superior opponent in a small
space. Especially if your enemy is in front of the only door. I put
my hand to my sword.
`Be
careful,' he said, `a sword once drawn is difficult to sheathe.'
And
though I knew the truth of his statement, I found myself drawing the
weapon from its scabbard and lunging towards him in a clumsy thrust
not illustrated in any manual of swordcraft.
He
side-stepped my attack, surprising me with his nimbleness, parrying
my moves with three successive strokes each of which was a near
strike until I was against the far wall and at his mercy. He kept his
sword at my throat and knocked me a quick punch to the jaw with his
fist. The blow drew a little blood and shook my brains around, though
not enough to knock sense into them. He pressed the point to my
Adam's apple, gentle but firm enough to let me know the skin would
soon break, then withdrew his blade and gave me a grin.
`Ready?
I shook my head to clear the sound of bells, then nodded to stop him
hitting me again.
`Good,'
he smiled indulgently as I dabbed the blood from my face. `All is
well, Master Marlowe. Remember, men's interests don't always lie
last man, woman and child. Not even a dog would survive the
slaughter.
The
Privy Council had no need for these games. Tamburlaine was my best,
most invincible hero, he had lent me some of his power and I never
felt as good as when he walked invisibly by my side. His boast came
back to me. I hold the fates bound fast in iron chains.
And
with my hand turn fortune's wheel about; And sooner will the sun fall
from his sphere Than Tamburlaine be slain or overcome. Tamburlaine
the Great remained unvanquished to the last, reducing all in his path
to rubble. But I was his creator and would outdo any angry God. I
would destroy my creature turned enemy, just as soon as I knew who he
was. I lay back on the bed, closed my eyes and slept, the scraps of
linen growing damp in my curled palm. The knock wasn't my landlady's
tentative tap, but an authoritative rapping which brought to mind the
Queen's Messenger and set my heart racing. Bidding the visitor, `Wait
one minute,' I put my eye to the crack I had contrived in the
doorjamb long months ago when I had first rented the rooms. The
sliver wasn't wide enough to reveal the whole man. Just an impression
of brown leather jerkin and russet breeches. The figure moved,
blocking the view as if he knew he was being watched. I kept my hand
on my dagger and opened the door quick onto a stranger. He saw my
combative stance and took a step back, making it clear he wished me
no threat, but smiling as if amused I should think myself any match
for him. `Master Marlowe? I nodded.
`I
represent someone eager to meet you.' The man in front of me had the
dimensions of a smallish oak. Though his bulk might hamper his
swiftness, his strength would more than compensate. I guessed he
wasn't inviting me for a feast and bought time by wilfully
misunderstanding him.
`I
appreciate the invitation, but I have many other obligations.' I
gestured towards the open door. `Bid your master good health and
thank him for his compliments.'
He
looked around impatiently.
`We
have no time for disputing. Make haste, my master requests you come
to his house where you will hear something to your advantage.'
`Your
master's name??
'Is
not for casual ears.' He shifted impatiently. `I assure you no harm
awaits. Though harm will certainly find you, should you refuse my
invitation.'
The
unavoidable moment where I hit him and he knocked me around the room
before taking me where he had always intended was fast approaching. I
took a deep breath and hoped it wouldn't hurt too much. I made a
flourish towards the open door.
`I
would rather you accept my invitation and leave.'
He
laughed.
`Master
Marlowe, I wish you no ill. But I have instructions to make sure you
reach my patron's house and reach it you will, alert or sleeping. You
choose the way.'
It
is suicide to start a fight with a superior opponent in a small
space. Especially if your enemy is in front of the only door. I put
my hand to my sword.
`Be
careful,' he said, `a sword once drawn is difficult to sheathe.'
And
though I knew the truth of his statement, I found myself drawing the
weapon from its scabbard and lunging towards him in a clumsy thrust
not illustrated in any manual of swordcraft.
He
side-stepped my attack, surprising me with his nimbleness, parrying
my moves with three successive strokes each of which was a near
strike until I was against the far wall and at his mercy. He kept his
sword at my throat and knocked me a quick punch to the jaw with his
fist. The blow drew a little blood and shook my brains around, though
not enough to knock sense into them. He pressed the point to my
Adam's apple, gentle but firm enough to let me know the skin would
soon break, then withdrew his blade and gave me a grin.
`Ready?
I shook my head to clear the sound of bells, then nodded to stop him
hitting me again.
`Good,'
he smiled indulgently as I dabbed the blood from my face. `All is
well, Master Marlowe. Remember, men's interests don't always lie
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