Carey made an odd little half-bob, then bowed to his father. Dodd copied him, less elegantly. Jeronimo paced in, surrounded by Hunsdon’s men, his face haughtier than ever. His dark eyes travelled along the people in front of him and he let out a half-smile. Then he stepped forward and went gracefully to both his knees and stayed there, ramrod straight.
“I have been asked by the Queen to question you, Señor Jeronimo de la Quadra de Jimena,” gravelled Lord Hunsdon, chin on his ruff. “Her ladies-in-waiting here will carry the account back to her.”
Jeronimo tilted his head slightly but said nothing.
“Please tell me why you have asked for audience with the Queen and where you got the…item you gave to my son, Sir Robert Carey.”
“Milord,” said Jeronimo, “the last time we meet here you chased my friend a mile down the road. It is thirty-two years since. Now I am old and dying. I have a canker growing in me and I bleed. I have come to make right what I did that day.”
“Go on.”
“I am the bastard son of Don Alvaro de la Quadra who was the Spanish ambassador at Her Majesty’s Court then. I was a young fool of eighteen, good with the lute, good with the harp, very very good with the crossbow. All stringed instruments were friends then.” He smiled as if remembering a long-lost lover. “My father bought for me a place among the Queen’s musicians from Mr. Tallis so I could spy on the Queen. I was proud for the work.”
Jeronimo smiled. “At that time I truly believe that the Holy Catholic Church was the only refuge of mankind, the only dwelling of God, and that all heretics must die.” He shook his head in wonder. “Since then I learn better. But I was a young idiot.”
“Indeed.”
“Entonces, milord, while playing my lute I hear Her Majesty who was then so beautiful and scandalous and in love with her horsemaster, speak with her lover about how to deal with his wife. Perhaps she thought I would not understand Italian. She wanted the woman to divorce him but it must be done with much care in case Sir William Cecil hear of it and make a stop. But the wife was being difficult, stupid.
“Milord Leicester sent me with a letter to his wife ordering her to divorce him and stop delaying. She read it while I waited for an answer and then she began to cry. What could I do? I was a young idiot and not ugly—she was pretty and distressed. I put my arms around her and held her. And so I was lost.
“No, alas, milords, I never took her to my bed but I certainly sinned with her in my mind. She was a virtuous woman. We talked much and she told me she wanted to kill her rival. And…”
There was a concerted gasp from everyone.
“She wanted to kill the Queen? And you told her how it could be done?” Hunsdon barked, leaning forward.
Jeronimo bowed a little and coughed. “Of course.” Everyone in the hall shifted position in some way. The black-haired woman with the tiny woman beside her crossed her arms. “I told her to bring the Queen with as few attendants as possible to the manor where she lived very sad and lonely for her husband and that if she can do this, my friend and I will do the rest. And for the first time she smiled at me and said, yes, she could do it. And we kissed.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling.
“Did your father know?”
“Of course. I spoke with him immediately. He was still trying to bring about the marriage between the young Queen and his master, King Philip II. He knew that the horsemaster was a fierce heretic and a fighter, desiring war. He believed it is a disaster for Spain if they marry.
“And when I put it to him, he could see how it solved all. I kill the scandalous Queen, the last Tudor. There will be two contenders with a good claim, the Queen of Scotland, a Guise, or His Most Catholic Majesty himself through his marriage to the Queen’s ugly older sister. If there is war, it is in England, not in the Hapsburg lands, but there was no reason to think the Queen of Scots will fight for her English throne as she then was still the Queen of France, married to the young King who was unwarlike.” Jeronimo shrugged. “I knew it might mean my death but I was young, I no believed I could die. I was in love with the poor Lady Dudley and I thought that when the Queen was dead, I would challenge Leicester to a duel and kill him and so take her for my own. It was very romantical.
“So my friend warned me when the Queen took a good galloper and a remount for a hunt in Windsor Great Park and when you, milord Hunsdon, did the same to go with her. We slipped away from the Court and rode to Cumnor Place. My Amy had arranged it all. We were there first, I wait in the darkness of the musicians’ passage with my friend keeping watch. I never see the Queen arrive with you, milord, I was in the dark behind the door. They went into the Long Gallery to meet Amy and discussed the divorce. She agreed, they signed paper, there was gold. It took a long long time. And then, as we had agreed, the second door opened to the back stairs where I was waiting. I had my crossbow wound and ready.
“I hear them come through the door, my eyes accustomed to darkness, I step out and I am dazzled by the light through the window. I see the woman in front with her red hair and the gold on her collar and I shoot at her. Somehow, I miss. She tries to run down the stairs to me, screaming in English but I do not understand so well. I step back, I take my crossbow by the stock and I strike her down the side of her head and she falls like a sack down the stairs and that is when I know who she is.” He paused, breathed carefully, his voice husky. “I still can see my beautiful Amy crumpled at the turn of the stair, her neck bent on the wall. You, milord, had put behind you the other woman, the one I had only seen as having black hair, you had drawn your sword and so I turn and stumble back through the gallery where my friend is waiting. But I cannot move for shock, he is a faster runner than I and I climb up into the rafters as milord Hunsdon thunders past me, chasing him.”
“Si, Señores, I could have wound my crossbow again and killed the black haired woman too, but why? What was the point? I couldn’t think, I believed she was only a lady-in-waiting. I looked at her as she knelt by my Amy’s body, crying over her body, trying to stop the blood coming from my Amy’s ears and eyes. I climbed up to hide the crossbow among the roofbeams, climbed down again and I saw she was taking off the broken headdress, using it to mop the blood, try to make all clean. I saw her take off her own headdress and place it on Amy’s head where there were two terrible dents from my crossbow. Perhaps to hide it.
“And then milord came back and he pulled her to her feet. She had rolled all together in a bundle, the headdress, her gloves dirtied with blood. They argued, he ordered her to ride and called her “Your Majesty” and that, Señores, was when I understood that she was the Queen but wearing a black wig and someone else’s kirtle. I stood there, turned to stone as I heard their horses gallop away.
“Later I found the bundle in a bush. I kept one of the gloves, the bloody one, and my friend took the other and the headdress. ER was embroidered on the gloves and they were the finest gloves I had seen. Then when my friend had stopped my weeping and I could think again, we rode back to my father.”
Jeronimo’s face darkened. “My God, my father was furious. He would not let us in the house, told us to go and lie low and he will do what he can. We hid in the Spanish embassy for a while. Then we went to Oxford where my friend had his family. We lived there a while and then when the Queen came back to Oxford six years later and the place was full of pursuivants and that evil man she hired to hunt us down, I rode to Bristol and took ship for the Low Countries where I learned other things than lute-playing.”
“You could simply have told me this, Don Jeronimo,” said Hunsdon, “Why do you insist on seeing the Queen?”
Jeronimo was not paying attention to him, looking hard at the women beside him. He narrowed his eyes and then smiled.
“If I could be received into Her Majesty’s Presence, if I can have such favour though not deserved,” he said quietly staring into space. “I will say this to Her Majesty: I am not now the hot-headed young idiot that I was. Now I am a cold-headed old idiot. I have a canker that came from a
mole that broke open and bled. My liver is full of stones, there is a rock in my stomach. Soon I will take to my bed and die in pain and then I will go to Purgatory to answer for all the men and women I have killed in my life. For my querida Amy, I have already paid much. It is just.
“I will say this to the Queen: Your Majesty, I ask pardon that I tried to kill you. I am happy that I failed but I am also sorry that because I so stupidly killed your horsemaster’s wife, the scandal meant you could not have him. A very strict Jesuit confessor sent me back to England to make amends. And so here I am. I beg your forgiveness with all my heart. You may take me and execute me if you like, you will do me a favour.” He paused in the silence. “He was a clever Jesuit, I think.
“This I will say to the Queen for the end: Now I thank God you were incognito so I made such a mistake. And then I will wait for Her Majesty’s judgement and mercy.”
He bowed his head and there was silence. Hunsdon leaned over to talk to the women beside him and then lifted a hand. “We will consult on it.” A nod to his men and Jeronimo was helped to his feet and led out of the hall, walking slowly as if he was in pain. At another nod from Hunsdon, Carey went with them.
“Sergeant Dodd,” said Hunsdon after a moment, “I understand from my youngest son that you have dealt in your inimitable way with the troublesome band of sturdy beggars who took my supply train and beat up my men and that you propose that my son take them into his service.”
“Ay, sir,” said Dodd after a moment to collect his thoughts. “They wis only raiding because they had nae ither choice, being betrayed in France by the Earl of Essex and getting none of their pay.”
Hunsdon’s eyes were hooded. “We will offer them the chance to go back to their villages near Hereford. If they choose not to, Sir Robert will take half and I’ll send the other half to Berwick to my other son who is Marshal there.”
Dodd shrugged. It was eight men not sixteen for Carlisle, but he supposed the Captain of Berwick Castle would need unattached men as badly as they did. He was glad Hunsdon saw the advantage there.
The black-haired woman with the tall hat cleared her throat. “Sergeant Dodd, my mistress the Queen asked me to…talk to you about what has been happening.”
“Ay, missus,” said Dodd warily. “Milady.”
The woman beckoned him so he went over, trying not to hobble, and did the best bow he could over her hand. She looked far too old to be any of the women constantly pestering Carey’s father and son to bed them so perhaps she did work for the Queen. You could tell she was a powerful character with that beaky nose and the snapping dark eyes and you’d think there would be clashes. The other woman was sitting back, talking to Hunsdon.
She took him through the entire past four months in detail, since Carey had arrived at Carlisle to be Deputy Warden to his brother-in-law, clearly knowing far more about the various happenings on the Border and in London than any lady-in-waiting really ought to. She laughed at some of Dodd’s comments which emboldened him so he gave her more stories than he normally would. Her laugh was delightful for all her age and the fact that her teeth were stained.
“Sergeant Dodd,” she said eventually, “I take it that you approve of Sir Robert Carey and his various…actions?”
Approve? That was a little strong. “Eh, he’s canny but he takes mad plans in his heid,” Dodd said cautiously. “He’s a bonny fighter but he’s allus a Courtier, no’ a Borderer and that holds him back.” In the corner of his eye, Dodd caught a brief flash of a smile from Lord Hunsdon and wondered why. Conscientiously he added, “Mind, he’s no’ himself at the moment, he seems…eh…a little unwell.”
“Perhaps you could tell him that I have already spoken to Mrs. Odingsells before you arrived. I personally received from her the…document she kept for me all these years, so faithfully.”
“Ay missus,” said Dodd, with no clue as to what she was talking about. The lady nodded once, seemingly approving, then smiled again.
“He will understand. I have made provision for her as well although she insists she needs nothing. Now then. This matter of Don Jeronimo,” continued the lady, narrowing her eyes. “Do you think I should advise Her Majesty to see him?”
“Good God, no!” snapped Dodd. “He says he’s sorry for it all but there’s a long plan here. He’s the one brought the broken men here tae Oxford, he saw me at the inn on the Oxford road, heard me say I wis Carey’s man, and then he took me prisoner in the forest, easy as ye like. And then he comes and helps me escape and take over the troop…I dinna think it wis kindness nor to make amends. And why was he at the Oxford inn at all? Eh? What had he been at before? He says he tried to kill the Queen thirty years gone and he got the wrong woman, his ainly love.” Dodd’s lip twisted in a sneer. “Och, the puir wee manikin, whit a sad tale to be sure.” Dodd stabbed the air with his forefinger. “He’s a Papist—he admits he tried it on once, you tell the Queen hang him today!” Dodd realised he was shouting and toned it down so as not to frighten her. “He said she’d be doing him a favour.”
Hunsdon banged with his stick on the floor. “Well spoken, Sergeant!” he boomed.
The lady-in-waiting smiled. “Thank you for your advice, Sergeant Dodd. My lord Hunsdon, I think we are done here.”
Hunsdon harrumphed. “Indeed, I shall indict him on a charge of high treason…”
“Och for God’s sake,” groaned Dodd, goaded beyond endurance by this stupid Southron way of doing things, “He’s said hisself the bill’s foul, ye have him, string him up now and be done wi’ it. Ah’ll dae it for ye if ye’re too…”
“Sergeant, the laws of the Border and the laws of England are different. We can’t simply string a man up here without trying him first…”
“A’right, give me a crossbow and five minutes and…
The lady-in-waiting was almost laughing again. “Sergeant, then we would have to arrest you for murder.”
“What? Och, no, see, I took a shot at a deer in the forest and what a pity, I missed and hit…”
“No, Sergeant.”
“But he’s foreign.”
Both Hunsdon and the lady-in-waiting were laughing outright now. Dodd took a deep breath and set his jaw so no more words would escape for them to make fun of. It was obvious they were stupid fools with no idea of how to deal with a dangerous bastard like Don Jeronimo, because of living in the soft south no doubt. So it would be up to him. He knew Jeronimo would understand and so would Carey and if the worst came to the worst he could always join his Armstrong brothers-in-law in the Debateable Land.
Suddenly there was a confused noise outside. Dodd heard Carey’s shout and instantly drew his sword, ran as fast as he could hobble out of the hall.
There was a scene of chaos in the courtyard. The horses were plunging about, one of the Borderers had already caught one and mounted, Carey was lying on his back holding his face. Dodd struggled over to him.
“He’s awa’?” he asked.
“Oof,” said Carey, obviously part-stunned as he climbed back on his feet, shaking his head and feeling his jaw where there was blood coming from his lip, “Bastard!”
“Ay,” said Dodd.
“He started to puke, I went to help him and he decked me and ran. Caught one of the horses, got on board and off he went. He’s not as sick as he makes out.”
“Ay,” said Dodd.
The two Borderers were galloping down the path into the forest and Dodd was completely certain that they wouldn’t catch Jeronimo.
There was a sound behind him. Hunsdon was in the courtyard, looking furious, behind him were the women.
“We’ll ride back to Oxford,” he ordered. “Now.”
“Och no, we can quarter the forest with enough men…”
“We must first escort the ladies back to Woodstock palace. Then we’ll find Don Jeronimo.”
Well that was more Southron stupidity, give the women a couple of men to help them and send them off out of the way while everybody else found Jeronimo and accidentall
y killed him where no bloody lawyers could see. For a wonder, the ladies-in-waiting were not arguing at all, the two women were already at the mounting block, being helped into the side-saddles, one on the handsome hunter, the other on the pretty palfrey, while the tiny person with the unchildlike face was already on her white pony, her face thunderous and what looked like a small throwing knife in her hand.
“Ay but no’ by the Oxford road,” Dodd said, resigned to losing Jeronimo for the moment.
“Why not, Sergeant?” asked Hunsdon.
“Because Jeronimo can use a crossbow and we dinna ken if he’s got one or no’ and he knows this forest well for he’s been living here for weeks. All he needs is a tall tree and a clear shot and ye’re deid, my lord Hunsdon.”
“Harrumph.”
“Do you know the paths in the forest?” Carey asked. Dodd had to admit he didn’t, he hadn’t had a chance to learn them. “In that case, ma’am, I think the Oxford road is still the best way. It’s reasonably good, the trees are not close to it, we can use the messengers’ path to avoid the crowds and we can bunch up close.”
The black-haired lady was looking very annoyed as she controlled her big horse, but not particularly frightened. “Very well. But honestly, Robin, I’d thought better of you.”
Carey’s face was comically downcast. “You’re…you’re right, ma’am, he made a complete fool of me.”
Dodd had found his own horse without the stirrups, sheathed his sword again and jumped to the saddle, then wished for a lance and a good bow. There was something quite wrong with Carey, seeing he was so meek. It was worrying.
Hunsdon’s two Berwick men came back looking frustrated and, of course, without Jeronimo. Hunsdon ordered them out in front as scouts, the men bunched up around the women with Hunsdon on one side of them and Carey and Dodd on the other and they took the path that led from Cumnor Place to the Oxford road with Dodd’s back itching furiously and his heart thudding. He didn’t even have a jack or a helmet and if Jeronimo could find himself a crossbow and some bolts he could do terrible damage from the close woodland around them.
Air of Treason, An: A Sir Robert Carey Mystery (Sir Robert Carey Mysteries) Page 31
