The Kingdoms of Eden

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Elizabeth

John Dee and Patrick had pored over the texts that had been selected by Dee for many hours. By the time they had completed their work both men were exhausted. John Dee had been so certain that the words they sought would reveal themselves that he had been almost giddy with excitement as their quest commenced; frustration and melancholy pervaded his faltering mind as the hours of searching neared an end. Heaps of angrily discarded books and scrolls lay scattered next to the table, with the table itself groaning under the weight of books freshly read, and not yet dispatched to the cold, stone floor. Dee slammed closed the book he had finished scanning, and he jumped to his feet. A waft of mouldy perfume rose from the pages of the book as it lay injured on the table. Dee drank in the scent—it was familiar and comforting, and in an instant his mind was drawn towards a happier time, back in England, in the service of his eternal princess. That time of contentment amongst the ancient texts and scrolls of his personal collection was exciting and fruitful. He was sole curator of the royal, esoteric collection, and he knew every word in that collection like old friends. There was no threat to his queen, mortal or supernatural, that his books could not defend against, with the exception of one. As he came to dwell on that unique conundrum, the short-lived sense of content dissipated, and knots of trepidation began to form once more.

"Ok, old man," Dee announced, in a strong voice, tinged with a penumbra of doubt. "That will do for this evening. We can resume the work in the morning. If I read one more sentence, my eyes will surely fall from their sockets."

Patrick did not look up from the page he was reading as he continued to wade through the text towards a memorable waypoint from where he could resume the search at another time. Dee waited. Patrick continued to read the words in front of him in resolute silence.

"Seriously, Patrick. Mark the damn page. We will get to it in the morning. Your eyes may be labouring furiously, but your brain has long since retired for the night."

Patrick groaned dismissively, and his left hand, resting on the table next to the book, fleetingly gestured a wave of rejection. Dee lost patience with his companion. The spell cast by Patrick to right the broken table was instantly broken. The table collapsed towards the corner with the missing leg, sending the books spilling onto the floor. Patrick managed to grab the book that he was reading before the table on which it had been resting gave way. He looked up at Dee with mild annoyance on his face; it was also a look of resignation.

"I am almost finished," said Patrick. "If you could keep your impertinence in check for a few moments longer..."

"You will never be finished! If we don't get a good night's sleep, we will be too tired to diligently continue with the work. If we miss something that is important due to fatigue, it may remain lost to us forever. Bring the book with you. A little bedtime reading?"

Reluctantly, Patrick stood up. He closed the book and he then tucked it snuggly under his arm. The men left the library with the sound of their retreating footsteps reverberating around the cavernous structure.

On the opposite side of the street, in the twilight shadow of a statue of a lion, John Dee's long-standing charge, Queen Elizabeth, waited and watched. She had been told by a short man in the marketplace that Dee had returned. He was like a father to her, and in turn she felt that he viewed her as a daughter. He had protected her from forces of evil, both natural and supernatural, while she was still a princess, in a time when her very life hung on the whim of a disturbed elder sister and her malevolent advisers. When she became the obsession of a demon it was Dee who raised up defences against the frightful foe; and when, in a moment of weakness and panic she had offered her loyalty, neck and soul to the demon in exchange for power and a long reign, it was Dee who mitigated the more devastating aspects of that poor choice. Now Dee, who she genuinely believed had been lost to her forever, had returned. On hearing the news, she was elated. She skipped through the town, grinning from ear to ear, as she made her way to Dee's chambers. He was not there. Her search took her to the rooms of Patrick. No luck there either. Everywhere in the city where she had expected to find her best, and most loyal friend, yielded nothing more than disappointment. Anger welled in her as she swore to seek out the small man and punish him for lying to her in such a cruel fashion. If John Dee had returned to the realm, surely Elizabeth would be the first soul he sought out? That she was not the first soul that he called upon, wounded her deeply. That wound, painful and raw, deepened in the instant she witnessed Dee and Patrick leave the library. Yet it was not the words of the small man, or the words of any other man or creature in the city that brought her to that place to witness the betrayal. That initial wound had been inflicted some hours earlier.