The Mindwalk Pavilion

20211119

Sir Francis Drake had a lot of respect for Boudica. Despite her youth, she was level headed, courteous, and she obviously cared deeply about her people and country. In view of this, when he received a message asking him to urgently meet her, he hastened to her chambers.

Boudica welcomed him and thanked him profusely for coming so quickly. It was obvious that she was agitated.

"Sir Francis, I have two favours to ask of you."

"Your Majesty, I am yours to command."

She gave him a brief smile at this, but continued to look worried.

"Sir Francis..."

Seeing that she was struggling, Drake tried to help.

"Your Majesty, whatever it is that you request, if it is in my power to do so, I shall do so. Please don't feel any concern, it will be a pleasure to serve you."

Boudica took a deep breath.

"Thank you Sir Francis. Prince Selim has attempted to murder Prince Bayezid,"

Drake's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"and Bayezid has killed both Prince Selim, and his bodyguard. They are in his bedchamber. I... I want the bodies removed to Prince Selim's own bedchamber. Sir Cecil believes that the Ottomans can be convinced that Selim and his bodyguard have slain one another, and it would be better for us."

She paused, then ploughed on,

"and for Prince Bayezid, if that was the case.

Drake was surprised at the request, but also amused that the poor Queen would think it might disturb him.

"I am sure I can arrange that to happen, I have a couple of crewmen I can trust to help me."

"Thank you Sir Francis."

"And what is the second request Your Majesty?"

"I understand that you will shortly be setting out again for the Americas?"

"Yes Your Majesty, my ship is being made ready even as we speak."

"Would you leave for your ships tonight please? After you've helped move the bodies?"

"Of course Your Majesty." Drake could see the wisdom of this.

"And could you take Dafydd Morus with you? Make sure he gets to America safely. I am commuting his death sentence to exile."

"Aye, I can do that Your Majesty. I can drop him at one of the small villages on the coast. I don't know what he'll do there though."

"I have a purse that you can give him if you would." She passed Drake a leather pouch, which he took and tucked into his belt.

"I'll see that he gets it, and that he knows who it's from Your Majesty."

"His is a letter for Sir Toby Stanther, authorising him to release Dafydd to you. This is for Dafydd."

She passed Drake the second letter.

"I am imagining that time might be of the essence Your Majesty, so I will take my leave if I may, and go to Prince Bayezid's chambers."

"You know where they are?"

"Aye Your Majesty, I'll find them don't you fret."

"Thank you Sir Francis, I won't forget this."

Drake bowed low.

"Your Majesty."

Then spun on his heel and strode out to do her bidding.


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Bayezid dances with Boudica were strained. He had been sure that he held her affections, but her responses to the Proconsul had shaken this belief. She danced very well, with obvious enthusiasm. Her flushed face and happy smile only served to heighten her beauty, and made Bayezid want her even more.

Whilst Bayezid and Lucius vied for Boudica's attention, neither one being happy at the other's presence, Pawl Llewellyn was also seething. His own feelings for Boudica were mixed. He had once teased Bridget, nothing more than humorous banter, but Boudica had taken it amiss. She had then publicly humiliated and insulted him in very angry tirade. He'd been obliged to leave the Court for a while to cool off, since he couldn't trust himself not to give her the beating she so richly deserved. Being the King's step-sister, she had been protected from his justifiable wrath.

Pawl had not forgotten the incident, and had intended when he was king to have addressed the issue. Boudica was a gorgeous woman, but she needed a firm hand. His firm hand. But she had been given precedence over him to attempt the Mindwalk Pavilion. This injustice had prompted him to use the simpleton Dafydd to teach her a lesson in humility.

He should have known the dwarf would save her. He cursed himself for not having found a way to keep her out of the way. He'd have even slept with her to achieve his aims. He looked over to where Bridget was in conversation with one of the Ottomans. Idly he wondered what she'd be like to bed. Seeing him staring Bridget pointedly looked away. Bitch.

Now Dafydd was gone, not executed for his failures as he should have been, but exiled and bound for the New World. At least. Pawl thought, I won't have to suffer him moping around after Boudica all the time.

Seeing the two foreigners sniffing around her like dogs around a bitch on heat fanned the flames of his anger. He was drinking, but not to excess, Pawl didn't want to make any foolish mistakes. He thought of himself as a planner who achieved his goals in carefully thought out stages. So he jealously watched. Twice he managed to secure a dance with Boudica himself. He could tell she was in a good mood, for she was less stiffly formal than was usual in her dealing with him.

He decided to speak with his Aunt. Despite her faults the barren old witch favoured him, and might help him in some scheme to make Boudica his wife, and subject to his Mastery. He danced with several of the younger women of the court, and even once with Eleanor. In his youth he had lusted after Eleanor, and she had been the focus of many a teenage fantasy. Now he felt himself to be older and wiser. he could see that she was too old for him, not that he wouldn't if it was offered. He could imagine her writhing under him.

Tossing back the last of his drink, he decided that he needed to screw someone. Picking one of his many admirers at Court, a young woman who seemed more than a little tipsy, he drew her away to his chambers.

Behind him he heard Bayezid's laugh. He knew that he'd have to do something about Bayezid. Pawl didn't seriously think that Boudica would wed the ancient and wily fox Lucius, but Bayezid, he wasn't so sure about.


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Iliaster trawled through the forbidden library for several days. Much of the library was given over to books that had expressed some position or opinion deemed heretical to the Church Fathers. These he ignored, having to wish to mire himself in such fruitless disputations.

Instead he focused upon book of an occult nature. He found a copy of 'The Book of the Sacred Magic of Abramelin the Mage' and read through it eagerly, but found its contents disappointing, especially what he thought of as playing with numbered squares.

There were several books on the making of talismans, and several more purporting to detail how to raise spirits or demons to do one's bidding. These later he set aside for later study. One strange book was almost unintelligible, but amongst the mystical rambling of the unknown author, Iliaster found a few interesting references to spirits, and where they might be encountered. This too he set aside for later.

Part of the problem was that he had no clear idea of what he was looking for. No book was conveniently called 'How to use your psychic powers as a weapon'. Instead he found a book about the Elements, and the Elemental Spirits. This seemed a useful starting point. He meant to experiment with the Element of Fire, once they had moved to the Hermitage, for Bruno had cautioned him against trying any experiments till they were safely isolated from prying eyes.

One development that he liked very much was that Catalina was now sleeping with him. She had entered his room uninvited on the first night, and slid naked into his bed. Their lovemaking had been torrid and prolonged. In the hour before dawn she had whispered that she knew they would need one another if they were to survive the Mithraides. When he'd asked what she meant, Catalina had told him that she sometimes knew what was going to happen, and had learned to trust that instinct.

Iliaster then asked her what was going to happen. Her reply was cryptic, and to the effect that they would have to escape together from the Hermitage. He asked no more questions, he knew that things could go wrong, and that they might not even be able to deliver what Bruno wanted. If Catalina said she'd had a vision, then who was he to argue.

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