Taste of Treason by April Taylor Page A

sat back in his chair, his black eyes scanning the room, whilst seeming to be completely at ease, a slight smile on his face. Whoever had perpetrated this atrocity would suffer the consequences. He waved to indicate that his guests should continue and leaned towards his mother, his hand shielding his mouth so that none could read his words.
    “Where is my Inquirer?”
    Queen Anne, skilled in playing the same game, smiled as if he had shared a merry quip.
    “My son, he has his orders and will obey. I am concerned that this matter is more serious than we at first supposed.”
    Henry gazed again over the diners.
    “I will not have anything frighten Madeleine.”
    He saw that his mother understood him. She inclined her head.
    “Have no fear, I shall attend her and tell her of the tremendous jest that one of the mischievous scullions in the kitchen has played on us.”
    “Make sure that you reach her before some panic-stricken serving woman or trouble causer.”
    “My lord, I shall go now. There is one thing I think we need to keep in mind.”
    The King looked up at her.
    “Apart from the insult to our person?”
    “Aye, Henry. The hall was overrun by frogs. This could be a less than subtle reference, mayhap even a plot to threaten the treaty with France signed upon your marriage.” She paused to allow her words to sink in, lowering her voice to a whisper. “And who save the Spanish would benefit from such a conspiracy?”
    * * *
    Rob paused before opening the door, looking back at Luke, who nodded. Byram Creswell, Captain of the King’s Personal Bodyguard, stood outside, an expression of impatience on his face. He greeted Rob in haste, asking for Luke, who stepped out from the kitchen.
    “Well met, Captain. A pleasant surprise. Come and take ale.”
    “No time, Luke. The King summons you. I will tell you what I know as we go.”
    Luke and Rob exchanged glances.
    “I may not come into the palace, Byram. I have been treating those with the sickness. Surely His Majesty knows that.”
    “It is neither my place nor yours to question the King’s commands, Master Apothecary. You may be sure that if the King wants to see you, he will expect you to take the appropriate precautions to ensure his health.”
    Luke inclined his head. He knew Creswell to be a friend. The captain’s gruff manner indicated a deal of disquiet.
    “Where am I to go?” he asked.
    “The tennis court. And alone,” Creswell added. “You are not required, Master Panton.”
    “I seldom am,” Rob replied, grinning. “This is one of those times when I am glad I do not hanker after exalted company. I am much safer staying at home. I shall wait up for you, Luke.”
    “What’s happened?” Luke asked as he and Byram strode through the Orchard toward the east side of the palace and the great closed tennis court.
    “Someone has upset the royal temper by interrupting his dinner.”
    “What is that to do... Wait. How did they interrupt it? Is anyone hurt?”
    “No, but the King is in a fair old rage, Luke. Somebody filled up the closed platters with frogs instead of roast swan. The result was chaos. Thank God the Queen Mother was there to help. I think the young Queen would have had hysterics. Watch yourself. He is liable to go up like a firework.”
    Byram pulled open the door into the corridor outside the tennis court. Luke shivered. The building might resemble a chapel, but the interior was painted black and its vast windows were covered in red mesh. He walked through the door onto the court itself and looked up to the spectators’ gallery, expecting it to be lined with guards. It was empty.
    Henry, accompanied by a stout courtier, paced the width of the court some little way from the net strung across the middle. He pointed to a spot on the other side and Luke, after bowing, walked to it, Joss at his heels. Henry scowled and for one awful moment, Luke thought the King could see the greyspring. Bringing any animal into the palace, other than the