Predestination

From Absolution: A Question of Conviction: “The ancient oak had stood sentinel over the crossroads for centuries, enduring harsh Norfolk winters, wet springs, and all too brief summers. If it could have a favourite season, it would be autumn, with golden light and the pleasant buzz of insects. But not the autumn just past. No, … Read more

From Speculation: Undercurrents of Treachery: “The afternoon sun fought a losing battle against the heavy clouds gathering over the Suffolk coast, leaching the colour and vibrancy from everything in their shadow. Inside the gloomy chamber at the rear of the Half Moon Inn, Dee and Goodwife Harewell worked with desperate concentration, their hands moving between … Read more

From Restitution: Fire and fury: “Thomas Seymour plucked an iron cannonball from a crate containing dozens. “This one?” he asked. Ned Founder, the ironworker, nodded vigorously as he replied, “A good choice, my lord.” He added hastily, “That looks like one of the better ones.” Wiping his soot-streaked hands on his leather apron, he avoided … Read more

From Restitution: Fire and fury: “Cristóbal Navarro had been working at Sudeley Castle for weeks, posing as one of the stonemasons who were modifying a storeroom in the basement. He had observed Baron Seymour’s furtive movements and his paranoid security. All of which suggested a man with secrets. And secrets intrigued Cristóbal. Now, from his … Read more

From Insurrection: Weddings can be murder: “He crawled a little closer to the edge of the rood loft, intent on concealing himself between the newly replaced statues of Christ on the cross and the Virgin Mary. He cursed as a jagged splinter from the roughly hewn loft floor speared into the palm of his hand. … Read more

From Divination: A Conspiracy of Blood: “The bruised Cambridge sky threatened to ruin the day of any students unlucky enough to venture outdoors. I’ll be glad when spring finally arrives, thought John Dee, as he hurried across Trinity College courtyard, his scholar’s gown billowing behind him like a sail. He was late, again, and this … Read more

From Proclamation: Poetry will be the death of me: “The Duke of Northumberland’s eyes drooped half-closed in the stultifying heat. The clinking of the harness and the rattle of the weaponry were a familiar lullaby to this old soldier, who, following the well known army maxim, was taking his ease while the opportunity presented. Suddenly, … Read more

From Speculation: Undercurrents of Treachery: “John Dee shouldered his way through an increasingly hostile crowd in the Kingston marketplace. The chill autumn air was thick with tension and a rumble of discontent that threatened to erupt into something more dangerous at any moment. At the bakery stall, Dee reached into his leather pouch and counted … Read more

From Speculation: Undercurrents of Treachery: “”Buenos días, Señor Dee,” the man said, his English carrying the distinctive accent of Castile. “A fine day to prepare for a journey, is it not?” Dee maintained a neutral expression. “You have me at a disadvantage, señor.” “Don Diego de Mendoza, at your service.” The Spaniard offered a slight … Read more

From Insurrection: Weddings can be murder: “He crawled a little closer to the edge of the rood loft, intent on concealing himself between the newly replaced statues of Christ on the cross and the Virgin Mary. He cursed as a jagged splinter from the roughly hewn loft floor speared into the palm of his hand. … Read more