CHAPTER TWENTY

A Coronation Surprise

We have been involved in planning to fight demons for so long now, that I had almost forgotten what it could be like to organise Court ceremonial. I am not directly involved, as I have no specific role - but as a Privy Councillor, I cannot avoid it as I might once have done. As Cromwell is at the forefront, it seems most unfair to leave him to deal with it all himself, so I offer what assistance I can. The rest of the Council, Suffolk excepted, seem more than happy to abandon their responsibilities upon him, however, and he seems to be almost never away from the offices, even at night. Thank God the raveners have not returned. Since he is so overwhelmed with work, I have been patrolling on his behalf, with Wyatt's help, and we have seen nothing.

Following her apparently miraculous return from the edge of death, Queen Jane has recovered completely and with remarkable speed, and is back at her King's side again. Henry calls her his 'Phoenix' now, and she has adopted it as her personal sigil in place of the gulls wings she once had. It is also, from now on, the sigil that we shall use in our communications with her.

As though Cromwell were not busy enough, the Court must remove back to Whitehall, in order to be in close proximity to the Abbey, as the King does not wish his recently recovered Queen to lodge at the Tower prior to her coronation. With the Lord Chancellor occupied almost entirely with organising, and funding, the celebrations and the ceremony, it is Wriothesley who takes the move in hand, and ably organises it with the same degree of efficiency that would be expected from Cromwell. Being thoroughly involved with the Coronation, I, too, am not obliged to concern myself with the move, as the entire weight of organisation seems now to have been placed on my, Cromwell's and Suffolk's shoulders. The rest of the Council wave papers about, argue pointlessly, and leave as soon as they can after the King has returned to his chambers. At least Thomas Cranmer has been given the opportunity to arrive - as a monarch is crowned by the Archbishop of Canterbury, no matter how much Gardiner wants to do it. He is pleased to be back at court - for he and Cromwell are great friends - and his presence adds an extra pair of hands to the small committee that only expands to full size when the King is present.

Now that everything is as much in place as possible, there are still a few days left before the celebrations begin. Being back at Whitehall, where I have been lodged in chambers very similar to those I left when we transferred to Hampton, I am finally able to visit the Library to see what Molly has done in my absence, and perhaps sift through some papers myself to catalogue them in hopes of finding something useful.

Goodwife Dawson is happy to see me, and I am quickly ushered inside, as the weather is rather chilly now that November has begun. Rather than be plied with ale and bread, I head straight into the Library, which I have not seen for several months. Oddly, I miss it, rather as a parent misses an errant child.

Finally. I thought you were never going to come back. Where the hell have you been? You've been at Whitehall for nearly a fortnight!

"Good evening to you, too. Eminence." I reply. There is no point in making excuses, as that will just irritate him, "If you could just stop being rude to me, I can get on with finding more information on those Jewels you didn't find anything out about."

Wolsey laughs again, You did very well, Richard. Very well indeed - you recognised that I could use your living soul as a vessel - and gave me the impetus to break through that infernal barrier to get to you. It seems that you are not a complete dunce after all. I can only ask your forgiveness for the injuries that were landed upon you during my fight with Lamashtu.

"That was unexpected," I admit, "I had people thinking that I had angered a mistress - and I had to attend the Prince's baptism looking as though I had collided with an elephant."

I am pleased that I am wrong. Wolsey adds, more quietly, You have risen to the challenge - and you are truly worthy of the title of Second to the Raven. It may be that there is more information about the blade that Cassandra sought out for you - for it is an item that Lamashtu recognises - and one that seems to hold a fascination for her. Therefore it must be powerful to some degree. It would be useful to know why it has been granted to you.

I had forgotten that - Lamashtu seemed most amused that I did not know what I held in my hand; and she mentioned that I knew nothing of its power. Whatever that power is, it would be useful to know of it before I need to use it, so that is something to add to my list of items to be researched.

I shall leave you in peace, Second. Wolsey says, as I browse papers, But I reserve the right to insult you with impunity.

"I look forward to it."

The day of the Coronation dawns with a crisp frost and bright skies that promise a sunny, if cold, day. As Privy Councillors, we shall have fairly prominent positions in the congregation; but as we are not Peers, we shall be required to remain in the Nave. Only those of noble blood shall be granted entry to the Quire to view Queen Jane as she is crowned in the wide space of the Crossing.

John has found a fine doublet in a shade of blue that is suitable to my status without violating the Sumptuary laws: the sleeves slashed with a paler blue, and embroidery details in gold thread about the collar and cuffs. That, with one of my heavier, fur-trimmed simarres for warmth, and a feathered blue bonnet, should mark me out as being of some consequence without making me look too ostentatious. It does not do, after all, to outshine the Queen.

I know that Wyatt shall also pull out his finest clothing, even though he is not a Privy Councillor; the Queen has invited him to sit with us, however, so most shall probably think that he is. I only hope that Cromwell does not wear black - as no one else is doing so, and this is meant to be a happy occasion. That said, I am not sure that he has anything in his closet that is not black.

Fortunately, while he is wearing his finest simarre, which is black, his doublet is a dark green that is just far enough from being black to not be commented upon, while his upper hose is of the same hue, though his long boots are also black. He wears his chain of office, and carries a black bonnet, as he hates wearing hats unless he is hunting and wishes to conceal his face. For once, he is not a Raven, sartorially speaking.

We take our places in the Abbey, and the wait begins for the Royal couple to arrive. With the weather so chill, and the Queen riding in an open chariot, the King has insisted upon an enormous quantity of ermine to keep her warm - another expense that obliged Cromwell to scrabble frantically amongst the accounts to find funds to pay for it. Thank God it isn't raining.

Trumpets suddenly bray out a mighty fanfare, and we all rise to our feet, as the King and Queen follow the Archbishop into the Abbey. We shall not see much of what is to happen, but we know each detail intimately, as we have been so involved in the organisation of it. Anne's coronation, for all its pomp and ceremony which was - truth be told - magnificent, was not remotely as spectacular as this promises to be. Thanks to the manner in which she achieved her Crown, certainly there were very few crowds out to see her when she processed through the streets - their love for the displaced Queen Katherine keeping them away. Judging by the roar of people from outside a few moments past, the number of people is far greater for Queen Jane. How fickle the people of London can be: meek and gentle she may be - and patient, too; but nonetheless Jane's place on the throne - like her predecessor's - had been held by another who was removed to clear the seat.

Henry did not need to insist upon a prominent role for his daughter, as Cromwell had that in mind from the beginning. Following their rapprochement in the Queen's bedchamber, the Lady Mary has begun to regard him with a warmth that none of us expected, though, fortunately, not akin to the embarrassing ardour she displayed when under the influence of the malevolence. She is the chief of the maids carrying the Queen's train, and she shall be responsible for taking care of all the Queen's requirements throughout the ceremony, both ceremonial and personal. Her joy is almost palpable, and I have no doubt that the cheers were as much for her as for her stepmother.

The procession moves through into the Quire and thence to the Crossing, where Jane shall be crowned in the august presence of Kings, and some of their Queens, though no longer the Confessor, for his shrine in the Sanctuary beyond has been dismantled and his remains interred elsewhere. We cannot see now, and Cranmer's voice is echoing so much that we can barely hear his words; but all watch with wrapt attention nonetheless, for all thought that this day would never come. God, what would have happened had she died? Would the King have married again? If so, who? After all, the marriage market is far narrower now than it might have been when he was younger and considered one of the finest princes in Christendom. Most princesses considered to be eligible would not wish to marry him - not of their own will, I am sure. He is not, it must be admitted, in his first flush of youth, and, while his ulcer is calm at the present time; when it is not, he is dreadful to be near, not just because of his hot temper, but because of the reek of putrefaction from the wound.

The choir are singing an anthem now, their voices rising up to the vaults. I find myself wondering again how on earth I am going to find Blue Fire and Red Fire. Now that the Queen is safe, that second problem seems to occupy my thoughts more and more - to the point that, even now, when I am meant to be concentrating on court ceremonial, I am consumed by it. Wyatt nudges me, and I hastily join the rest of the congregation as they stand.

The rest of the service passes in a strange amalgamation of concentration and distraction, as my thoughts about the jewels that we must locate continue to plague me. We have not heard from the House - so I do not know whether the search for them has even begun - much less whether or not they have been…

"God save the Queen!" people cry, startling me out of my reverie yet again, and prompting me to join in with the second and third such exclamation.

The trumpets bray again, and we do not have to wait long for the King and Queen to reappear. While she was - like Anne before her - formally crowned with the great Crown of St Edward, Jane now wears a fine crown that Henry commissioned specially for her: a jewel-crusted gold circlet with four half-arches rising over a red velvet cap and topped with a diamond encrusted monde and a delicate cross patonce. She is radiant, and we are all silenced by her. God, I think to myself yet again, what would we have done had she died?

As Privy Councillors, both Cromwell and I are obliged to participate in the procession that is to follow. Fortunately, unlike lesser officials, we are to ride; as the journey shall cover several miles, which would be most unpleasant in the boots that I am wearing. Besides, given the number of horses in the procession, I have no desire to spend the next two hours or so being obliged to dodge liberal piles of manure.

The noise of the crowd is astonishing. A mighty phalanx of cavalry leads the way, followed by the King aboard a fine black stallion, Jane at his side, seated on a milk-white palfrey girded with cloth of gold. Behind them are the highest lords of the land, and then the Privy Councillors. As most people have no idea who we are, and we are also on horseback, we are cheered like princes - though the greatest excitement belongs entirely to the royal couple that lead us.

Despite our best efforts to dress warmly, I am not the only one who is shivering by the time we return to Whitehall. Beyond the gates, behind us in Westminster, the populace are already taking advantage of the wine fountains and enormous quantities of celebratory victuals that are free for all to enjoy. I noted at the time he agreed to the expenditure, that Cromwell was far less scandalised over the cost of that.

The Queen's position has been confirmed, and is undisputed. Henry's opinion of himself has been heightened, and his first duty as King has at long last been fulfilled. All in all, the day has been a great success. I hope that tonight's festivities shall be equally enjoyed; it certainly cost enough.

We have an hour to wait before the feast is to begin, however, allowing me time to return to my quarters and attempt to regain some feeling in my hands and feet; spectacular though the procession was, the wind was cold, and any sense of triumph was swiftly quelled by the chill.

John answers a knock at the door, and admits Cromwell, who joins me beside the fire, rubbing his hands together briskly to warm them as he seats himself, "It is done, then." He says, looking more relaxed than I have seen him for a long time, "The Queen is crowned, and with none of the mutterings that accompanied Queen Anne to the Coronation Chair. Perhaps the Court shall finally know some peace."

"Please, God, yes…" I mutter, "I do not wish to go through an experience like that again."

"Such is the life of a Second, Richie." He smiles, "Which you have accepted fully and completely, have you not?"

I nod, "I still sometimes wonder what on earth possessed me to agree to your offer that night - but I do not regret it. Not for a moment."

"I am pleased." He says, then turns to me, "Are you still troubled by Zaebos?"

I look at him, startled, for I had quite forgotten that vile revenant, "No, Thomas. Not since that night in your bedchamber when I confessed that he had been plaguing me. I think that confession might well have expunged him - though it may also be that the events which followed have expelled him with equal facility." I think about it some more, "Though, I must say that I have had no bad dreams at all that I recall since that night - despite all that we have faced. I am not sure why."

"You are a Second, Richie. It has changed you - in some ways quite clearly, but not in others. It may be that your acceptance of the mission has driven bad dreams from your mind. Either that, or you are so tired from all the hunts we have undertaken that you do not remember them." He adds, smiling again.

"Now, that I can believe." I regard him for a moment, "And what of you?"

He sits back in his chair, and sighs, "I came near to disaster, did I not? I had been silent for too long, and came close to destroying all. William has told me many times that it is not for me to hold myself responsible for all that is ill in the world, or in the Court. My Mission is of such importance that I feel I must carry it with an almost inhuman resolve - and I have served only to prove that such resolve is neither possible, nor sensible." He pats his chest, "And now I am required to wear this Rosary for the rest of my life. Had I not been so burdened by the guilt that I could not release, then I would not need it."

"And the Queen would be dead, as would our Prince." I remind him, "In some ways, Lamashtu played into our hands when she sent that malevolence against you. It required you to confront your guilt, enabled Tom to release his grief for the Lady Anne, and forced me to confront my doubts and fears over the choice I had made to be your Second. The injury it caused left you with protection from Lamashtu on two fronts - the rosary and the Life Debt, which you were then able to use to save the Queen. Her determination to destroy you gave us the very tools to defeat her; for had I not made that final step towards becoming a true Second, then Wolsey could not have come to me."

Cromwell smiles, "I think she fears you, Richie. And well she should - for you are dangerous, now."

"Only to her, I hope." Then I get up, "Come, Thomas - I am sure Tom has already found his way to the hall to begin the celebrations. Perhaps we should join him."

Coronation banquets would normally take place in Westminster Hall, but the King has decided that we shall stay at Whitehall, as the Hall there is larger, and he is most keen to ensure that as many people are given the chance to see his queen - and him - as possible.

The hall is crammed with satin and fur clad bodies, all waiting with eager anticipation for the Royal couple to arrive, and I must confess that I, too, am craning for my first view of them, for they are exchanging the garments they wore at the Abbey for new clothes, and I have no doubt that there shall be a large number of new jewels upon display as well, additional to those set upon Jane's crown. When Cromwell saw the bill for those, he nearly fell from his chair.

Wyatt has joined us again, as he was not obliged to take part in the procession, which pleased him immensely given the state of most of those who were required to walk, and he has also changed into something altogether more ostentatious, "Did you enjoy your ride?"

"We were cheered like heroes, Tom." I grin, happily, "For a while I could pretend that I was a a living god, and that we had saved all of Christendom. Then it got hideously cold and I thought my hands were going to freeze solid."

If I am anything to go by, then all present are ravenously hungry, and the smells of the victuals that await us are a torment. We cannot eat, however, until the King arrives and invites us to do so - and the royal couple is taking an age.

Then, at long last, we hear the screech of trumpets again, and the Garter King of Arms batters his staff to the floor, "His Majesty the King, and Her Majesty the Queen!"

It seems almost like a new parting of the red sea. Courtiers pull back and bow deeply as the Royal couple enter, both clad in white silk and taffeta thickly embroidered with gold thread and pearls. The Queen's train seems to stretch back behind her forever, and Mary is at the forefront again of the ladies who are to carry it - she on the Queen's right, Lady Rochford on her left. The jewels that so paled Cromwell are set upon a magnificent diadem that has replaced the crown the Queen wore in the procession. Formed from gold and diamonds, it is shaped like ears of wheat, for fruitfulness, and sprigs of mistletoe to signify everlasting life. It is truly encrusted with diamonds, and I can see why he was so shocked at the cost. Atop the Queen's head, however, it glitters and fires like a halo, and I can hear the gasps of amazement working their way back through the throng as people see it.

Those who are not to dine drift away as the King and Queen are seated at the head of the hall. As we are fortunate to be on the Privy Council, not only do we get to enjoy the feast, but we are seated in close proximity to the King and Queen, which also means that we are not too far away from the fire, as the hall is chilled by cold air from the river.

We dine on carp, salmon, mutton, beef and capon, while around us stewards pour out a never ending stream of wine. The frumenty is spiced and rich with nuts and fruits, while the bread still steams from its baking. I know I shall regret the amount I consume at some point, but even those who seem to hate us are friendly this evening, and the conversation is remarkably genial. Perhaps they are not drunk enough yet. Or maybe they are.

After two hours, while we are entertained by jugglers and musicians as people continue to reach for yet more food, the King rises and announces that his Queen shall now receive homage from all present. It is, to be honest, more to massage his pride than for her benefit, but still he stands with her, proud as a peacock, as a seat is placed in front of the table where they dined, and she is seated under a canopy of estate.

The highest lords are, not surprisingly, the first to greet their Queen, and do so with florid bows and not too many belches or farts. One elderly earl does have to be helped to one side, quite overcome by the beauty of his Queen, I am sure - either that or he is in dire need of fresh air from his overindulgence. As I am now feeling the effects of my own overindulgence, I am hoping that I do not have to wait for too long, as I could do with a walk myself.

Cromwell is called forth before I am, and he bows with a neatness that most of the more highly placed Councillors could take as an exemplar. He is one of the few to whom she addresses a few words - some have been so privileged - and she smiles as he kisses her ring before he backs away. I note quite a few jealous expressions from several lords who were not granted such a gift.

Then it is my turn. I approach, and bow, aiming as best I can to match Cromwell's in its tidy simplicity. I think I mostly succeed. The Queen smiles at me, "I see you have recovered yourself, Sir Richard. I am given to understand you took something of a fall recently."

"I did, your Majesty - but it was to a good purpose, and all was mended." I reply, as I know that she means Wolsey's fight with Lamashtu. The King, however, does not, so he remains in the dark.

I bow again, and kiss her ring. As I rise, she winks at me, which quite stops me in my tracks. And then I see it.

At the centre of the diadem is a jewel - that I had barely noted when I first saw it upon her head as I was rather dazzled by the multitude of diamonds. Now, however, I realise that it is a deep, rich blue - but, moreover, as the Queen leans forward, it comes more into the light and, for the briefest moment, I see it: a twisting pillar of ice-blue flame. Then she has moved, and it is gone - but then she moves back slightly, and it returns, as though it can only be seen in the most specific way, and I am placed just right to see it. My God…can it be? Can it?

Trying to cover my shock, I back away, politely, and then hurry away to the doors where Cromwell is talking to Wyatt.

"What is it?" Wyatt asks, "What have you seen?"

"My God…" I am still trying to find the words, "I think I've found it…"

"Found what?' Cromwell asks, bemused.

"The diadem - there's a sapphire upon it - and it contains a twisting flame. I think I have found Blue Fire…"

If it is true - and we have found the first of the Jewels, then we can be ready - and we can finally destroy Lamashtu. Dear God, we can really do it.

All we need to do now is find Red Fire. If we can.

A/N: And so we reach the end of part two (yes - it's a trilogy!). Team Cromwell (dumb name, but I like it) have changed history, saved the Queen, and the Prince; and things are looking bright for England. But Lamashtu is still lurking - and, even though the sapphire has turned up, they've still got to find the ruby. And the final confrontation with the Demoness awaits...

Thank you for reading, favouriting and following - and for your lovely reviews; I really appreciate it.

There will now be a short intermission while I prep up the final part for publication...