I took a light breakfast without leaving my room; nor did the wench who brought it address a word to me. I had barely noticed her before, but supposed she was Hawes’s daughter. Presently I descended and ventured outdoors, without seeing the landlord. I took Leucippus from the stables and saddled him myself, glad to be out in morning sunshine. Then I was in the saddle, riding down to Purton where the cries of gulls greeted me. And now a very different sight appeared: the wharf was bustling with activity.
I dismounted and strode casually to the quay, where as I had expected the Lady Ann was being loaded. A small crane was at work, creaking on its swivel as men swung it from the dock to the vessel, where others waited to unfasten its burden. One glance was enough: the cargo was indeed the barrel of a large cannon, its muzzle stuffed with wadding. Glancing at the wharf, I saw the neat stacks of cannon-trunks uncovered and ready for loading.
Soon a figure drew near, whereupon I turned to find myself facing none other than Captain Spry once again. I gave him good morning, but this time there was no vestige of courtesy; in short, the man was belligerence personified.
‘What do you want here?’ He demanded. ‘You’re in the way of our lading, and the tide won’t wait.’
‘I’ll keep back,’ I replied, my face free of expression. ‘I wouldn’t want to delay you.’
‘The work is private – King’s business,’ Spry grunted.
‘I told you who I am, yesterday,’ I said. ‘You ship the Mountfords’ ordnance downriver, and unload at Bristol. From there I assume it’s taken round the coast to London, then up the Thames to the Tower, where anyone can see guns lying on the wharf. What’s secret about it?’
‘Well, if you know so much, why do you come to gawp?’ The other threw back.
I tried to form an answer, aware that some of the wharfmen were looking our way. Behind them, the little crane continued to creak on its swivel. Once more, it was time for some invention.
‘In truth, I have reason,’ I said, thinking fast. ‘Francis Mountford asked me to come here. Since his uncle’s death, he suspects there are things he’s not been told.’ And when Spry’s brow furrowed, I added: ‘I’ll be meeting him again soon… I’m sure he’d want you to offer me every assistance.’
‘Like what?’ Spry snapped. But he was uneasy, eyes moving to his vessel, which swayed at anchor.
I looked away, towards the three or four men who had been watching us. Spry saw them too, and jerked his head to suggest there was nothing amiss. But as they returned to their work one figure remained, and the next moment he was walking towards us. As he approached, I realised he was a foreigner: dark-complexioned, with a great black moustache and beard, clad in loose cotton clothing with an embroidered cap on his head. Drawing close to Spry, he gave him a questioning look but did not speak.
‘It’s naught,’ Spry said, turning to him. ‘A friend of my master… Pride, was that your name?’ And when I gave a nod: ‘He’s come to look at the guns…’
‘Good morning,’ I broke in, facing the newcomer. ‘Might I know your name?’
The other gave no answer, merely stared.
‘He’s Yakup,’ Spry said tersely. ‘He sails with me… he doesn’t have much English.’
He was impatient to go - too impatient, I thought. The man was torn between not wishing to insult a friend of the Mountford family, and an eagerness to be rid of me - but on a sudden, I experienced a feeling of liberation. Justice Belstrang might have had reservations, but William Pride had none. I saw a way forward – and a notion sprang up.
‘Why, he’s a Turk,’ I said, glancing from Spry to Yakup and back. ‘The name is Turkish, is it not?’ And before the other could answer, I gestured to the man’s broad leather belt, from which a silver charm dangled. ‘That’s the hand of Fatima, brings good fortune… I’ve seen it before, in London.’
‘Mayhap you have,’ Spry returned sourly. ‘I ask not where a man hails from… he’s a seafarer, that’s all that matters to me.’
‘A long way from home, though, is he not?’
I was calm now. I was certain that Spry knew this man was Turkish - and it was the first time I’d heard of anyone from the distant Sultanate working on a Severn trow. I raised my brows at the captain – but his patience was at an end.
‘See now, I don’t have time to stand and gossip,’ he muttered. ‘You may poke about, as you put it, the whole day if you wish. And you may tell Master Francis, when you see him, that I sailed on the afternoon tide with a full cargo. Now, with your leave…’
He put a hand on Yakup’s shoulder, and the two walked off without looking back. Meanwhile, another cannon swung from the crane’s jib on its way to the Lady Ann’s hold… and my suspicions hardened.
Spry was hiding something, just as Tobias Russell had been hiding something. I had no notion what it was, but my course was clear: I would defy those who wished to dissuade me, and plough a straight furrow - wherever it led.
I walked back to Leucippus and, with a last glance at the wharf, got myself mounted and rode apace back to Lydney… where I heard tidings that confounded me.
The forester Thomas Peck, whom I had helped homewards the previous night, had been found dead.
***
‘Where was he found?’
I demanded this of Henry Hawes, the two of us standing in the inn, which was devoid of customers that morning. I had learned the news from him after enquiring about the man who came off worse in the brawl. Hawes was unwilling to speak of the matter, but saw that I was in no humour for evasion. With many a shake of his head, he replied that Peck appeared to have collapsed in the street at Aylburton, but a short way from his home, and cracked his head. He was unsteady on his feet, the landlord reminded me – I knew it as well as anyone, did I not? To my mind, he seemed most keen to stress that it had been an unfortunate mishap – an accident.
I stared at him, until he dropped his gaze.
‘Two days ago,’ I said. ‘I learned of a man being killed by a falling tree. Now I hear of another who fell over in the street - even though he was walking well enough when I last saw him.’ In growing anger, I raised a hand and pointed. ‘There appear to have been a troubling number of fatal accidents hereabouts, wouldn’t you say?’
Hawes merely shrugged.
‘Moreover,’ I added, ‘someone caught me on the road last night and gave me a blow to the head, soon after I’d bidden Peck goodnight. I wonder if the same thing happened to him?’
‘I don’t follow you, sir.’ A blank look had come over the landlord’s face, similar to the one I had seen on Tobias Russell. Its meaning was plain: I would learn nothing further.
I turned away to go up to my chamber, but stopped, seething with anger; something was gravely amiss here, and I wanted answers. On impulse, I walked to the door and went out.
Within a short time, I was riding Leucippus up the Lyd to the Cricklepit foundry, where I drew rein and waited.
The place was as noisy as before, with smoke issuing from the furnace chimney. I remained in the saddle, until soon enough the man I wanted to see appeared in his leather apron, wearing an expression of disapproval.
‘Master Pride…’ Russell came within a few yards, then halted. ‘Here you are again.’
‘So I am,’ I said. ‘I’ve been busy since we last met, talking to people. I spent an interesting hour at Purton earlier, with Captain Spry. He was most forthcoming.’
Russell made no reply, but shifted his stance slightly.
‘I met one of his crewmen, a Turk,’ I went on. ‘Curious…’
‘What is it you want of me?’ The other broke in. ‘I’ve no time to spare in idle chatter.’
‘Those were Spry’s very words, too,’ I said brightly. ‘Before I reassured him of my intentions, that is.’
I was thinking hard, trying to construct some means of penetrating the man’s exterior… tight as a clam, Jonas Willett had said. I met his eye, but discerned nothing.
‘What intentions?’ Russell demand
ed. ‘You said you were-’
‘I said I was interested in cannons,’ I broke in. ‘That’s your trade, is it not?’
‘You know that already,’ the other returned.
‘Indeed – ordnance for the King,’ I said. ‘But I wonder now if all of your guns go to His Majesty… might some of them find their way elsewhere?’
Well, I must confess it: I have no idea where that notion sprang from. Likely it had been taking shape in my mind since I talked with the Willetts, and with Spry… but finding Yakup the Turk in his company must have crystallised it. I pictured that man again, and suspected that he was no sailor. His manner of dress, the way he had walked up to Spry with that questioning look… William Pride was on unsteady ground, but he would hold it. And to my relief the strategy worked – though it did not seem so at first.
‘What do you mean?’
For the first time, Russell showed emotion. Taking a sudden step forward, he made as if to grasp Leucippus’s bridle - but in that he erred badly. The horse jerked his head, veering away from the man, and bared his teeth. At once I got down from the saddle, took the bridle myself and murmured a few words. As Leucippus calmed, I turned to face the other, whose anger was now plain.
‘I know something’s in train here,’ I said, giving my voice an edge. ‘And I think I know what it is. But you’re not a fool. Do you not see that it could be to your advantage?’
There was a brief silence. From the corner of my eye, I saw foundrymen gathering as before, watching alertly. Things could turn ugly, and before I knew it my hand was on my sword-hilt.
‘What advantage?’
Russell’s manner had changed. He was still hostile, but there was a look in his eye that I knew well enough: one of pure greed. Seizing the moment, I pressed it home.
‘I told you, I have customers of my own,’ I said, lowering my voice. ‘Men who pay well, and who keep their mouths shut.’
‘So, all you said about foundries and investing and such, was a pack of lies,’ the other replied, with a sneering look.
I remained silent, but took my hand from my sword.
‘Now you come here, bold as brass, and think I’d do business with you at the drop of a coin,’ he went on. ‘A man I know little of, and would trust even less?’
‘I don’t trust you either, Russell,’ I said. ‘But I’ll live with it.’
Another silence followed. But the foundry-master glanced round at his men, and made a dismissive gesture. As they moved away, he faced me and lifted a calloused hand.
‘I might hear you out,’ he said, pointing at me. ‘But you should know the risks. Nobody thwarts me – no-one.’
I met his eye, and saw that it was no bluff - and on a sudden, a chill swept over me. John Mountford… had he thwarted this man, and paid the price? Had he learned of underhand dealings, and intended to take action? Justice Belstrang would have demanded an answer – but William Pride saw which way the wind blew, and made his decision.
‘Understood,’ I said, letting out a breath. ‘Now shall we go somewhere private, and talk of culverins and demi-culverins? Or shall we talk first of money?’
SIX
Well now, here is the plain truth I learned that day from Tobias Russell: that unbeknown to Sir Richard Mountford, and no doubt unbeknown to King James too, the Cricklepit foundry was quietly shipping cannons to the Great Turk.
At first, I could barely compass what I heard. But I listened intently, hiding my feelings. Sultan Osman the Second, it seemed, had usurped his uncle a while back and was eager to strengthen his position. English guns were prized throughout Europe and beyond… and naturally, there was money to be made.
‘So… the man Yakup,’ I said finally, still struggling to grasp the matter. ‘Is he there to oversee shipments?’
Russell gave a shrug. The two of us sat in a small, cluttered room close to the furnace-house, where the smell of burning charcoal was strong. ‘It’s a long voyage from Bristol to Constantinople,’ he murmured. ‘The Sultan don’t trust Englishmen to keep a bargain, though we trade all the time.’
‘Surely the whole of your cargo doesn’t go there? I asked. ‘It would be too obvious-’
‘Of course it doesn’t,’ Russell growled. ‘The dividing is done at Bristol…’ he was frowning. ‘I think I’ve told you enough. Let’s hear what you have to say – your proposition.’
I tried to assume a hard look. ‘It’s simple enough. How many can you supply, and what’s your price?’
I waited, making an effort to control my shock at what I had stumbled upon. Now I seemed to have become a dealer in armaments – or William Pride had. Perhaps I should adopt a more brutal manner, I thought: Russell was suspicious of me, and would remain so. It sobered me to think what Sir Richard Mountford would think, if he knew where some of his cannons ended up. As for the King… my pulse quickened. Surely what Russell did could amount to treason?
Then something sprang to mind: the last words I had heard from Thomas Peck… perhaps the last words, I realised, that he had ever spoken. ‘The Concord Men,’ I said. ‘Are they the ones who have set this trade in motion?’
But I had missed my mark: in a moment Russell’s gamester’s face was back.
‘Who?’ He enquired.
‘No matter…’ I looked away, cursing inwardly. ‘I’ll forget I heard the words.’
He eyed me, and for a moment I feared he would refuse to proceed any further. I had touched a nerve: the Concord Men, whoever they were, would have to wait.
‘Given time, I could supply twenty culverins,’ he said, in a bland voice. ‘To be mounted on carriages, at buyer’s will. Long-barrelled ones, if they’re for ships. Iron cannonballs too, eighteen pounders.’
The man’s directness was unexpected. Gathering my wits, I pretended to consider.
‘How many shipments are we talking about?’
‘It depends how many you want. Five cannon trunks can be diverted on the quays at Bristol at one time, for transfer to another vessel. That’s yours to arrange – my part of the business ends as soon as they’re unloaded from the trow.’
‘That’s four river voyages,’ I objected. ‘The goods would need to be stored, until the whole consignment had arrived.’
‘Again, that’s your affair,’ Russell replied tersely. ‘It’s not a trade for the witless - or the faint-hearted. And I don’t want to know who your buyers are, any more than you need concern yourself with mine.’
‘I know that,’ I said, putting on a frown. ‘Mayhap it’s time we spoke of prices.’
At that, Russell relaxed. Whether he had decided I was a bona fide arms trader, or was merely relishing the prospect of a lucrative payment, I did not know… but on a sudden, I was uneasy: in truth, I realised, I had not the least idea what an iron-cast cannon should cost.
The matter was compounded when he gave another shrug and said: ‘Why don’t you make me an offer?’
I lowered my gaze, fumbling for an answer… whereupon a solution occurred, which brought a mixture of hope and alarm. It was rash, perhaps, but it seemed the best way forward, if not the only way. Drawing a breath, I looked up.
‘I want to see for myself how the shipments are handled between here and Bristol, and then at the port.’
‘Why?’ Russell demanded at once. ‘How the goods reach Bristol is already known to you. You only need take delivery.’
‘Nevertheless, I want assurance,’ I persisted. And when he continued to look displeased: ‘It’s a large investment. My fellows would want a report before committing themselves.’
‘You haven’t yet said how much you’re willing to pay,’ the other replied.
‘No, I haven’t,’ I agreed. ‘But I say this: let me sail downriver with Spry on the Lady Ann, and observe what happens at Bristol. If I think all is safe and watertight, I’ll return here and agree a price, with a sum paid in advance.’ On impulse, I added: ‘If I’m satisfied, there’ll be a purse for yourself, that won’t appear on the reckoning.’
> For a while Russell eyed me with evident mistrust; I could almost hear him calculating. It was a taut moment, until to my relief, he let out a sigh and nodded.
‘Very well, if it will set your mind at ease.’
He stood up, glancing towards the half-open door. ‘I’ll give you a note for Spry, telling him to take you to Bristol and back.’ With a thin smile, he added: ‘There’s no comfort to be had… you’ll sleep alongside the crew. The Turk, too… and I’d keep a wary eye on that one.’
I said nothing, merely rose and went out into the foundry yard. Standing by Leucippus, breathing somewhat hard, I waited until Russell appeared with a paper folded into a tight square, tied with cord. But as I reached out to take it, he grasped my hand tightly.
‘Now I’ll say this, Pride,’ he breathed, leaning close. ‘If you ever let slip one word of what I’ve told you, your life will be ended. You may be certain of that.’
In silence I met his gaze. My impulse was to ask if he was the one who had sent someone to deliver that painful warning, two days earlier. But I merely waited for him to let go, took the paper and got myself mounted.
As I rode away, I glanced back to see the man watching me – and even from a distance I saw his look of unallayed menace. Urging the horse to a canter, I strove to put thoughts of Master Russell from my mind, and faced up to what lay ahead.
I could only hope I was in time to catch the afternoon tide.
***
The next hours passed in a hurry.
Back at The Comfort, I sought out Hawes and told him that I would be away for a while, and was obliged to leave Leucippus in his stable. As I handed money over, I held his gaze and let him understand that if anything was amiss when I returned, the consequences would be grave: the horse was precious to me, and should have only the best of care. In addition, I gave him a small sum to keep my chamber for my return. He listened until our business was concluded, then:
‘Do you intend to walk, Master Pride? There’s naught but forest in every direction… save the river, of course.’
Deliverance: A Justice Belstrang Mystery Page 5
