“It’s suicide, John. You won’t survive it.”
“Well we don’t have a choice, do we? Not me, not David with a baby, not any one of these three who aren’t even thirty yet, who you chose for this job. You wanted it done, Derek, now we’ve got to go and we need your confidence.”
Derek put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and nodded.
“Good luck, mate,” he said. “I’m sorry I got you into this shit.”
“Don’t sweat it. I love this job and you know it.”
John turned to see Jane, who had restrained her tears behind eyes brimming full of them.
“See you in a few minutes,” he said smiling.
“Make sure you do,” she replied, kissing him deeply.
“Ok, load up,” Rich interrupted.
“What about the horse?” John asked.
“It’s gone, we’ve sorted it.”
“How did you...”
“Load up,” Rich said again with a grin.
With a deep breath, the undercover Inspector, the home office agent, the surveillance officer, the technical expert and the archaeologist slowly filed into the portal and sat around its uncomfortable, metallic perimeter. John caught sight of Rich and Derek outside as the door was shut and he was left to the silence of the portal. As he looked around, he saw all the team members were doing the same and, making him jump, David let out an excitable noise with a grin. The sudden, childlike gesture from the most sensible of them sent them all into an infectious giggle as the overwhelming dread and fear of impending doom was overtaken by a rush of excitement in anticipation of pioneering the unknown.
Jake’s eyes watched Charlotte and he smiled as her nose crinkled with excitement. She turned absently towards him as she laughed with the others and her eyes slowly fell onto his, returning the stare. Her face smoothed into a warm smile, and they shared another unspoken moment amongst the noise of their laughing colleagues. John, as observant as ever, noticed Charlotte’s change of expression and caught the look she and Jake shared. He smiled to himself as he realised what was happening and decided to let it take its course.
“Let us all come back,” he whispered to himself.
Outside the portal, the expressions of the others hadn’t changed. They stood in silence until Rich began the countdown from twenty. Derek pinched the bridge of his nose and put his arm around Jane as the numbers wore down.
“Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen,” Rich continued. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one…go,” he said, quietly. And as the button was pressed, the same screech filled the room...followed by a crack...and a pop.
Twelve
1st June 1483
It felt like every blood vessel throughout his body had been filled to bursting point and then pushed further. For that split second, John’s mind went completely blank and registering only a ‘pop’ sound, the next thing he knew of was a pain in his coccyx as he fell over a foot to the ground. Dazed, he glanced around and saw David, Jake and Charlotte starting to sit up and wipe their eyes. He was in an un-kept field of green with a ditch a few feet behind him.
“What the hell is this?” said a gruff voice as John’s head finally cleared. He hadn’t even noticed the three men around them with their swords drawn. John went to stand.
“Stay down!” shouted the voice as John took in its owner and his companions. All three men wore rough, brown wool, and the spokesman had an emblem hanging from his neck. Flanked by much larger and younger men, he was rather short with a mouth full of rotten, brown teeth. “I said where the hell did you come from?” he shouted, as spittle spilled onto his chin and his spikes of roughly chopped grey hair aside his bald patch shook with animation.
No one spoke.
“Right you bastards, what have you got? We’re taking the lot and if you move an inch, my sons here will run you through.”
“We have nothing,” John finally said.
“Bollocks, you’ve got plenty. And I might have the girl too,” he added, smiling at Charlotte who frowned. “Fancy some, darling? Bet you haven’t had a decent man up your arse for a long time.” He licked his lips, leaving them glistening wet with a blob of dribble that made Charlotte gag.
Jake jumped up and batted the sword of the closest man away, stepping towards his father. As he did so, the third man pulled a crossbow from his cloak and pointed it in Jake’s face, making him stop. The older man laughed as the first kicked Jake in the back, knocking him down to the floor once more.
“Right, where were we?” he continued, turning back to Charlotte and scratching his crotch. “Thanks to that cocky bastard, I’m gonna have you now while your boys watch and if one of them moves, they’ll have a bolt through the eyes.”
He laughed again as he lifted his woollen skirt and took hold of his penis, shaking it at Charlotte until it was semi-erect. He paused to give a warning look as Jake flinched, and Charlotte gagged again as she spotted the scabs and sores all over his red-raw shaft and crotch.
“Oh come on, sweetheart,” he said, laughing, and reached out to her head, shaking himself towards her once more as his dirty fingers locked into her hair.
John looked at Jake and then the largest man once more as he tried to think of a plan. He couldn’t let it happen, he knew, it would destroy Charlotte and probably Jake too.
He turned his attention back to the leader who still shook himself, grinning and grimacing with his self-pleasure. John eyed him for weakness, desperate to think of something, when the dirty man’s yellow-tinged eyes opened wide in agony and an arrow stood, quivering, protruding from his chest. He crumpled onto Charlotte and the other two men stepped back in fear and confusion, staring at their dead father.
Quicker than John could react, Jake flew from the floor, pulled a dagger from his cloak and slammed it into the crossbow-man’s chest under his armpit. In rage, Jake hacked at him as he fell until they thudded to the floor together.
Both John and David stood together and attacked the remaining swordsman as he attempted to swing his long blade at them. He left the swing too late as John collided with him and they fell into a struggling heap. David ran in from the side, barely missing the desperate man’s last sword-swing, and dived on his legs as John drove an elbow into his face.
John couldn’t believe the strength of the giant beneath him as both he and David held and struck him but could not keep him down.
“Jake!” John shouted for help as he desperately tried to control the man reaching for his throat. Finally, losing his grip on the wrists, the huge hands shot out and closed around his neck, squeezing the air out of him in an instant. The overwhelming pain made him struggle in panic until a flash of metal shone in front of his eyes and the grip loosened leaving the giant’s hands to scramble at his bubbling throat. John looked up and took in the sight of Charlotte looking grimly at the blood-soaked dagger in her hands and breathed a sigh of relief. Unable to speak, he nodded his thanks to her and surveyed the three bodies lying bloody and dead before them. David sat next to him, panting; Jake stood, looking furiously at the torn and ragged body below him; and Chris climbed sheepishly out of the ditch with the bow in his hands. Their first kill had landed on the shoulders of the youngest of all of them and not one of the three had enjoyed the experience. Jake stepped over to Charlotte, took the knife from her hand and pulled her into a tight hug that seemed to squeeze the tears from her eyes.
John and David stood as Chris joined them; and both Jake and Charlotte turned in as David put his arm around her and John rubbed his throat in an attempt to speak.
“We’re here,” he whispered. “We made it, we’re alive and we survived those wankers. We did what we had to do and we can put them out of our minds and do this job. Well done all of you, and thank you for sticking up for each other,” he added.
“Horses,” David said suddenly.
“What?”
“Horses! They’re going to land here any minute,” he said. “Move!”
The realisation daw
ned on them all with a shock and they scrambled to get out the way in panic. Turning back, they waited then smiled nervously as nothing happened.
“How long ‘til they come?” asked David.
“Any second now,” Jake replied, checking his watch inside his pack.
“Shit, the ditch, John,” Chris added with worry, but before they had a chance to think further, a faint pop made them jump and the landscape once again erupted into mayhem. The horses appeared in thin air and dropped the twelve or so inches to the ground making them trip and fall down. Only two stayed on their feet, and one of them scrambled hard to stay over the lip of the ditch.
“Come on!” Charlotte shouted as she ran to calm the horses as they jumped up from the floor and whinnied in panic. Taking the reins of the first, she held him tight as she soothed his face and mouth and managed to subdue him to silence. She turned him away and watched as the others entered the melee and attempted to calm a horse each. Chris was knocked flat by the flank of a horse as he tried to get to another, and he scrambled out to the horse on the bank, arriving as it broke free from gravity and bolted about fifty metres before relaxing. Finally, calm began to restore around them, and the team began to mount before any further chaos was caused.
“You ok, Chris?” John asked.
“Yeah, I guess so,” he said. “I’m a bit winded.”
“Where’s your horse?”
Jake sniggered as Chris glanced across the grass to where his horse stood calmly grazing. John tilted his head towards the horse in a gesture of encouragement and smiled as the inevitable dawned on Chris’ face. Sighing, the young man set off at a jog towards the horse and his team trotted behind him.
As he finally got to his mount, he laid his hand on its rump from behind and in shock it bolted again leaving him gobsmacked in its wake.
“I can’t believe it!” he said as the mare began to graze again, another fifty metres away.
Jake and David laughed out loud as John and Charlotte glanced at each other, smiling.
“Here, Chris,” John said finally, holding out his hand.
“Thanks John,” Chris replied and raised his hand to be lifted into the saddle.
“Pass your pack then,” John said, to which Chris complied. “Now get going,” he said, grinning.
Chris’ face showed utter disbelief and he turned to the others in plea, making Jake and David howl in laughter.
“Bloody hell, guys,” he said as he chanced a final glance at Charlotte who smiled affectionately at her lost teammate and shrugged.
“Sorry Chris,” she said, smiling, and broke into laughter herself as he shook his head and ran off again.
Part Two
Thirteen
15th June 1483
“Ok, so are we clear?”
“Yes, John, we’re clear,” Jake replied as he ducked through the tiny exit door of their usual tavern and led his team out into the busy streets of London outside the Western Tower gate. The bustling, dusty street between the gallows of the Tower Hill and the busy, boat-ridden River Thames was awash with trade stalls and their over-vocal, chuckling owners. The loose, unsupervised children and the customers that browsed and bartered at the stalls were a clear display of the contrast of wealth and poverty throughout the city.
“Shall we discuss it again?” John continued, whilst looking around at the mayhem he had grown used to.
“No, John,” Charlotte replied as she followed up behind them with David. “We’ve worked these streets and taverns hard in the two weeks we’ve been here. De Rougemont and Du Lac are well known names now. You know it doesn’t take long for rumours to spread in this place.”
“I know, but let’s do it again,” he said, making the others roll their eyes. They’d become accustomed to his meticulous planning and repeated briefings, but as much as they mocked it, they couldn’t doubt its effectiveness. With sufficient modern day jewellery and precious stones, they’d rented a suitable apartment with stables inside the Aldgate of London Wall and had begun to visit markets and taverns immediately on John’s directions. Within days, word had spread highly of the wealthy Rougemont family and in turn their request to attend Royal Court had been promptly approved.
“The smell always gets me down,” Jake murmured to David who remained continually fascinated by everything around him.
“You’re joking?” he replied. “Food, manure, the people?”
“Grease and shit, you mean, Dave?”
“And that shit smell doesn’t come from a horse either,” Charlotte added. “I can tell the difference.”
“That’s the smell of one of the world’s busiest rivers and the diet that fed it, you two. Sailors from across Europe and Northern Africa, London’s aristocracy, the beating working class that kept this city moving forward in a time of such discovery.”
“Yes and every single one of them went to the toilet in the street by the smell of it. What is he doing?” said Charlotte, looking round.
Stopping briefly for a flat-bread pouch filled with boiled mutton and vegetables, John dropped a few coins into the grubby hands of the toothless food seller and turned back to the group with his mouth full and gravy running down his chin.
“Listen,” he said through full cheeks making Charlotte wince. “Only Jake and I will speak to guards. When we’re in, if you can, you two mingle in the court and keep your eyes open for clues. Once we’re in, we can go back, but if we’re kicked out we’re done. We have to get it right and get approval, ok?”
“Are you ready to mingle?” David asked Charlotte.
“I think so,” she replied, blowing through her cheeks. “Well we’ll work it out I’m sure.”
“Ok, you know the full plan,” John added. “Let’s just get in and become part of this thing. Then we’ll take it from there.”
They passed through the first, unmanned gate on the outer wall without incident and found themselves in a narrow, cobbled street surrounded by a small, slow moving crowd of well-dressed Londoners. Approaching the inner gates, Charlotte glanced up nervously at Jake who winked down at her, giving her reassurance. As they reached the final steps, the two soldiers on the door stepped forward and the larger of them spoke; his accent muffled by his hideously broken nose.
“State your names and business,” he said formally looking from John to Jake and back again.
“Sir John and Sir Jake de Rougemont, Mademoiselle Charlotte Du Lac and her uncle David Du Lac,” said John confidently. “We have business before the King and the Duke of Gloucester.”
The soldier raised his eyebrows and looked them over.
“Rougemont,” he said quietly in thought. “Go through and good luck.”
John stepped inside between them as relief washed over him, and as he did, the large gloved hand of the soldier stopped him in his tracks and caused him to look up.
“From France?” he said.
“Yes, we arrived two weeks ago.”
“I heard. Listen, things are complicated here at the moment. The King, The Duke, no one knows why King Edward hasn’t been crowned. Word is they seek to depose him.” He glanced around, ensuring he was not overhead. “He has the throne and for some reason was brought here by the Duke but now hasn’t been seen for a while. It’s the Duke of Gloucester who you need to impress. Richard the Duke runs this country and will soon be king for sure.”
John smiled then glanced seriously at the hand still on his shoulder making the guard snap it back to his side instantly.
“Thank you, soldier,” he said, and nodded at David who dropped a few coins into huge, gloved mitt. “Your name, Guard?”
“Sykes, Sir. Sergeant Robert Sykes.”
“Very well, Sergeant. Thank you.”
John continued through the Gatehouse and into the quieter sloping avenue inside the walls.
“Well done, John,” Jake whispered at his side. “That was a fine display.”
John smiled at him and led them towards the White Tower in the direction of the crowd of people
around them. They slowed at the back of a small queue as they approached the guarded doors and John began to listen to conversations around him until they all ceased in response to a commotion at the front.
“Well? What do you want, Peasant?” a tall and skinny, chain-mailed guard said from the height of his steps.
“I have been wronged, Sir,” the voice of a man in front of the crowd uttered. “The knight, Sir Spence, mistook my words as insolence and seized half my land outside of the City. I didn’t...”
“Yes, yes. So you keep saying. What are you here for?”
“To state the truth and reclaim my land on the word of the Duke.”
The guard released a short, bark of a laugh before frowning seriously.
“You expect me to let some urchin farmer in front of the king without invite or acceptance, to moan about half a field of shit? No, piss off.”
“I will not,” the man replied, defiantly. “I beg you, Sir. It is all I have and I have children to support. Please?”
“You will not?” the bully soldier exclaimed in rage. “Get up here,” he screamed as he leant down and hauled a young man in rags roughly up the steps and into the team’s view.
“Jesus, he looks like he hasn’t eaten in weeks,” Charlotte whispered behind them as the man struggled upright.
The soldier drew a long sword from his hip and held it up to the man’s face.
“Do you think I should let you live for your insolence, boy?”
The farmer raised his chin in silence then looked the guard in the eye as he spoke.
“Then kill me, guard, or let me in,” he said, firmly.
The soldier grinned curiously.
“And you think the king’s court is going to listen to you and not punish you for wasting their time? Do you think they won’t punish me for letting you in for that matter?”
“I must try, Sir.”
The soldier studied the farmer for a short while before nodding silently.
“Very well,” he shrugged. “Go get ‘em, urchin,” he said, stepping aside and allowing the young man to enter. Shaking his head as he passed, he turned back to the waiting crowd and began to usher them through politely.
The Tower Grave Page 9
