Previously: England awaits the Spanish invasion. Elizabeth orders two of her young heros to Spain on a mission. Each one has a beautiful but jealous lover.

Back in his private quarters Phillip wriggled about his king-sized bed with a naughty smile on his face.

“Tell me who the spy is, my dear, or I’ll subject you to my own inquisition.”  He sensed someone leaning over him.  He could feel the person’s body and assumed it was Maria seeking forgiveness for her behavior during their last encounter.  The King opened his eyes to see Boniface.

“Your Majesty?” the Englishman whispered.

Phillip screamed which caused Boniface to scream.  In the distance a female voice with a thick German accent bellowed, “It’s those two damn dogs again!”

The guard outside Phillip’s door rapped.  “Your Majesty?”

The King grabbed Boniface and stuffed him under the layers of sheets and blankets.  “Quick!  No one should know you’re here!”

The guard burst through the door with his sword drawn.  “Sire!  Where’s the danger?”

“It’s nothing.”  He let go with an uncharacteristic inane laugh.  “I just dreamed I had to make love to that Englishwoman.”

Putting his sword back in its scabbard, the guard replied, “Yes, Sire.”

“That would be a nightmare, wouldn’t it?”  To enhance his perceived humor of the situation, Phillip slapped the bedcovers.

Unfortunately he happened to hit Boniface’s bottom.  The lord showed remarkable restraint and did not move or moan.

“Yes, Sire,” the guard repeated with a dull air.

Realizing his laughter sounded inauthentic, Phillip let it trail off in the cool night breeze.  “You may leave now.”

The words had hardly left his skinny old lips before the guard began bowing and backing up at the same time.  “Yes, Sire.”  And he was out the door.

Phillip kicked at Boniface’s form under the sheets.  “Get up, get up, you fool!”

The lord rolled out of the bed onto the floor, whimpered as he stood and bowed in the same motion.

“What are you doing here?”  The stupidity of the English noblemen he had seduced into betraying their country irritated the hell out of Phillip.

(Author’s note:  Historical records also do not reveal how Lord Boniface entered Spain at this particular time undetected.  Birth announcements discovered in an isolated chapel in Andorra showed that a son born to an Englishman by the name of Boniface and a Basque peasant woman.  This was twenty-five years before the invasion of the Armada.  It was possible Boniface begged his Basque bastard to provide a boat for covert trips to the Alhambra.  All of this is mere speculation because these characters are indeed fictional and difficult to find in history books.)

“There’s a spy in your court, your Majesty.”

Phillip harrumphed as he rolled out of bed and put on his lounging robe, which, by the way, was a gaudy gold lame  trimmed in ermine dyed bright red.  “Oh, that’s old news.” He looked at Boniface.  Do you know who it is?”

“No, Sire.”

“That’s nothing new, either.”  Phillip wrinkled his brow in thought.  “By the way, what have I offered you to betray your country?”

“Wales, Sire,” Boniface replied as he bowed.

“Hmm, that’s sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place where.  Oh well, you settled cheap if you asked me.  Anyway, on to the business at hand.  We must find this spy!”

“How will we discover his identity?”

The king stepped closer to the lord.  “I have reason to believe Senor Vacacabeza’s ward knows.  I have been unable to persuade her to tell; however, perhaps you will have better luck.”

“What if indeed she is the spy?”

Phillip entwined his fingers and smiled with pure evil intent.  “She’ll never leave these shores again.”