The day before the masque, King James, true to his promise, arrived at Foxcroft. His cavalcade stretched for more than a mile, from Dudley Woods to Foxcroft Castle. He brought good weather, a green silk pavilion, enough victuals to fuel an army, more than fifty retainers, dozens of lordly guests, and others of note.
From my tower, as the long cavalcade passed, I searched for Anthony Foxcroft. He was not in the line of horsemen. And when I did not see him among those who stepped out of the coaches, I hurried to Countess Diana with the bad news.
I found her in the Great Arcade, beside the fish pool, feeding carp with her gloved hands. She received the news calmly.
"If by chance you meet the king, do not question him about Anthony. He dislikes questions very much."
We were surprised by the appearance of Robert Carr, who came to announce that the king had gone off on a hunt but had wished to convey his greetings to the countess.
I had seen him riding in light armor, dust-covered, beside the king. He had changed his attire and now wore a red doublet with white ruffs and meshed black stockings. His auburn hair was curled in wavy locks. His skin glowed with health. Conveniently at his right hand he carried a thin jeweled case sheathing a Spanish dagger.
He was a splendid-looking creature. Yet I noticed at once that there lurked in his glance a hint of discomfort. He was worried. He was burdened by some dark thought.
As soon as Carr had turned stiffly on his heel and left us, I remarked on his manner. The countess had also noticed that he was ill at ease.
"I take it," she said, "that Anthony has been freed, against Carr's wishes, and is on his way. I hope something delays him—a pretty face or a game of cards—until Carr and the king have gone. Otherwise, I fear a troublesome time."
Anthony arrived toward the end of dinner. The countess had borrowed a dozen deer from our neighbor, the duchess of Wythe, and had set them loose in the woods, so when the king trotted back from his hunt he brought with him four fat stags, which were roasted over the fire pit. Royal servants in gold livery served them on trestles.
Having no taste for food, I found a place near the pavilion's only door, two embroidered flaps attended by guards, and waited. Anthony came during a drinking song, while horns brayed and all the men were on their feet. He parted the curtains and took in the scene with one quick glance. Carr stood beside the king.
A companion at Anthony's shoulder whispered, "There he is, in the red doublet."
"I see," Anthony said. "Who could miss him? Six feet tall, wrapped in a red, fur-trimmed doublet, a diamond sparkling in his ear."
"Now is the time to have a word with him," the companion whispered, "calmly, yet so all may hear."
"Yes, my friend. The time is right. I'll speak politely yet to the point," Anthony said.
I was on my feet at once. "'Tis not the time," I said, putting out my hand to hold him back.
He was surprised, not having seen me. He stepped back as if at an enemy's touch.
"'Tis foolish to come here at this moment," I said. "You're free by the good will of His Majesty. Don't embarrass him by words with Carr of any kind, polite or impolite."
Parting the curtains, I shoved him not so gently, past a throng of attendants, away from the pavilion. He turned an astounded gaze upon me.
"You can't be Serena Lynn," he said, lifting my chin, pushing my head from side to side. "Yes, you are, but what has come upon you? You act like a scullery wench."
"Nothing," I said. "I am just glad to see you and determined. Determined to see that you do not quarrel with Robert Carr."
Reluctantly, he picked me up and kissed me, then set me down with a thump. "You have no idea what I've been through," he said in a strained voice that was not his at all. "A journey through hell that you can scarcely imagine. My guide, Robert Carr, smilingly at hand throughout, pouring in my ear a stream of admonitions and ill-concealed threats, as though he were the king himself."
There was a starry sky above us and the sound of night birds in the trees. The last thing I wanted to hear in all this world was an account of his troubles with Robert Carr, but doggedly he went on.
"The Tower," he said, "is not a tower. It's a cave, albeit paneled in wood. The slanting roof crouches, parts of it so low you dare not stand straight, the rest a menacing shadow hanging above your head. It has no furniture, not a chair or a bench. The bare walls catch every sound, distort and throw it back at you in trailing echoes. Carr's words as he stood at the door and bade me enter were like stones tossed into a pit."
Anthony no longer spoke in a strained voice. It was the voice of an angry youth mindlessly bent, whatever the cost, upon revenge.
"It was a place of doom I stepped into at Carr's request. The floor beneath my feet seemed slippery with the tears and blood of a thousand helpless souls, so yielding that I found it difficult to walk.
"'Step in,' Robert Carr urged me. 'It's warmer within than without and more friendly than you would ever believe. There are even those, the stubborn ones, who wish to return and often do.'"
The singing and the bleat of horns had stopped. The pavilion was quiet for a time. I thought I heard the king's thin voice, then the singing began again.
"A clutch of candles burned in tall iron holders," Anthony said, "casting their yellow light upon the Tower's centerpiece, a wooden rack much like those we use here at Foxcroft for hanging clothes, though of larger dimensions. And, it has the means by which you can be strapped upon it securely, with a cunning system of screws to twist and turn and pull you slowly apart.
"I stared at the contraption, certain that Carr had no thought of using it upon me. I was there to be frightened, humiliated, given a taste of his power.
"My eyes having grown accustomed to the dim light, I made out two men in the shadows, alertly watching. At my side Robert Carr said, 'The rack is old. Carpenters are working on a new one. It's more elegant, the frame fashioned of pearwood, the straps brass-studded and made of cordovan. When you come again, you will also find brighter lanterns to light your way. The Tower is a bit gloomy now, don't you think?'
"'Yes, and it smells,' I said. 'But what can you do about that, since the stones reek of pain and blood? You would need to gather new stones, build a new Tower.'"
Anthony finished his story with a laugh. He seemed to think he had bested Robert Carr.
"You're tilting with a dangerous man," I said. "He sees in you a rival for the king's affection. Remember how James made over you on his visits to Covington."
"I remember well."
"'Tis better not to remember. Forget those days and stay away as best you can from both while they're here."
"I take your words for wisdom."
I believed him as I led the way along the dark path, away from the pavilion. No, it was not a belief that I held to, only a hope.