The Sorcerer's Letterbox

by Simon Rose

  Jack couldn’t concentrate on the conversation at the table. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he had read in the books at the Tower. Edward and Richard were supposed to have been murdered over 500 years before.

  But perhaps there’s still a way to save them, Jack thought.

  When he finished eating, Jack got up and put his dishes in the sink. “It’s been a long day. I’m really tired and I’m going to bed,” he said.

  “Good night, Jack,” his mother said.

  “Pleasant dreams,” his father said.

  Jack went upstairs to his room and closed the door behind him.

  He pulled the letterbox out from the waste-basket and saw that its drawer was open.

  Another note!

  Cheating Fate

  XI

  Jack pulled the scroll from the drawer and unrolled it. Once again, the letters changed before his eyes.

  I fear now for my life and for that of my poor brother. Tyrell has returned to the Tower. He tells me that England now has a new king. My uncle has become Richard III. The coronation took place yesterday. Parliament supports his claim to the throne and we are still locked away from the world. I fear my time is short and that you will never hear from me again.

  Edward

  7 July, 1483

  If Tyrell has returned to the Tower, my chances of saving the princes aren’t good, mused Jack.

  He dragged his chair over to the closet, felt around on the top shelf and pulled out the king’s clothes. He put them on, stared at his reflection in the mirror and smiled.

  We really could be twins, he thought.

  As he picked up the box, his hands began to tremble. He’d come so close to death on his last visit.

  If fate brought me this box, then fate will ensure my success, Jack told himself firmly. He turned the wheel counter-clockwise.

  The room vanished.

  Jack was startled to find himself back in the forest. He quickly slipped the letterbox under his tunic.

  “Well, well. What have we here? Couldn't stay away, eh?” Tyler grabbed Jack tightly by the arm.

  “Let me go!” Jack shouted.

  “Or what? You’ll disappear again, like John said? Too much wine, I told him.”

  “Let me go!” Jack shouted again.

  “You been lost in these dark woods all this time? Missed us, did you? John, come here!”

  John rushed over. “Where did you find him?”

  “Right here where he disappeared,” said Tyler. “There is something strange going on.”

  “Sorcery, it is!” exclaimed John.

  “Take him back to the camp,” said Tyler. “And tie him up properly this time.”

  John grabbed Jack by the back of the neck and pushed him roughly into the camp.

  “What are you going to do?” Jack asked as he and John reached the cart.

  “Tie you up tight as a drum. Tyler will have my neck if you run away again.”

  He bound Jack to the wheel again, fastening the knots securely.

  John took a filthy rag from the back of the cart, tied it around Jack’s neck and pulled it up over Jack’s mouth.

  “Try anything,” he snarled, “and I’ll slit your throat. Understand?”

  John wandered off to feed the horses, grumbling to himself. Jack saw Mary approaching with a wooden bucket. She stared at Jack curiously, looking him up and down. Then she put the bucket down and beckoned Tyler over.

  “I tell you, Will,” she whispered, loudly enough for Jack to hear. “I wasn’t sure at first, but the more I look at him, the more he looks like the king.”

  “King Richard?” Tyler asked, puzzled.

  “No, you dunce! Young Edward.”

  “You sure?”

  “I saw the boy a lot. Worked in the Tower kitchen, didn’t I?”

  “But the boy’s dead, isn’t he?”

  “Disappeared, they say. No one knows where he is.”

  “And you think this is him?”

  “Think about it, Will. Meg said he came down from the Tower and that the guards were looking for him.”

  “Then King Richard must be looking for him, too.”

  “And probably others who would pay a king’s ransom for him.”

  “And just who would these others be?”

  “Leave that to me,” said Mary with a wink. “I have my contacts in London.”

  She picked up the bucket and ambled toward the camp-fire.

  Tyler walked over to Jack and loosened the cloth around his mouth.

  “You wouldn’t happen to be King Edward, now, would you, boy?”

  “I’ll make you a duke if you help me get back my throne,” said Jack, trying to sound as regal as Edward.

  “And I suppose you’ll make John an earl?” Tyler laughed.

  “Meg, come over and keep an eye on ‘His Majesty’!” Tyler said, handing Meg a knife. “And use this if he tries to escape again.”

  Tyler hurried off to catch up with Mary.

  “I am King Edward,” Jack whispered to Meg. “You saw me come down from the Tower.”

  “This'd better not be a trick!” Meg threatened.

  “Have you been back to the Tower?”

  “Where have you been? The city is full of soldiers. King Richard brought them down from the North.”

  “Why was that?”

  “He has many enemies. Some say he shouldn’t be king.”

  “He shouldn’t be, Meg. I am the rightful king. Will you help me get back to the Tower so I can reclaim my throne?”

  “Are you daft? Why should I care who’s king?” mocked Meg. “Your kind care nothing for the likes of us.”

  “There’s more in the Tower than just food. There’s jewels. I'll give you some, if you’ll take me back.”

  “I don’t believe you. And Tyler will kill me if I help you.”

  “Once we’re in the Tower, you can take enough jewels not to ever have to worry about Tyler again.”

  “Liar!” Meg snapped, waving her knife in Jack’s face.

  “Just think about it.”

  “Enough! I’m going to sleep.”

  Meg checked Jack’s bonds, then settled down to sleep a few feet away from him. He could see her hand firmly gripping the knife as she slept. Jack tried to sleep too, but it was hours before he finally drifted off.

  Just before dawn, Jack felt a knife cutting the ropes binding his wrists.

  “What are you doing?” whispered Jack.

  “Quiet!” hissed Meg, putting the point of the knife to his throat. “I thought about what you said. Take me to the jewels now.”

  Jack took a deep breath.

  “Betray me,” she said, looking directly into his eyes, “and I’ll slit your throat.”

  “Understood,” gulped Jack.

  “Now come quietly, before the others wake up.”

  Jack cast a quick look at Tyler, sleeping soundly by a smouldering camp-fire. He sincerely hoped he’d never have to see him again.

  As dawn broke, Meg and Jack disappeared into the early morning mist, bound for London.

  Into the City

  XII

  The sun had risen by the time Meg and Jack reached the road. Jack sat down next to a milestone to catch his breath.

  “No time to rest,” said Meg, shaking her head. “London's a long way away, and Tyler and the others will have noticed that we’ve gone by now. Once we get to London, they'll never be able to find us.”

  Meg took off at a trot, and Jack did his best to keep up. As they got closer to the city, the road became crowded with the wagons of farmers bringing produce to market. In the distance, Jack could make out churches and other tall buildings. As they approached the south bank of the Thames, he could see what Meg had meant about the soldiers. They passed a bus
tling military camp, filled with tents, where soldiers milled about. Armoured knights charged on horseback in the open fields.

  Meg and Jack paused at the edge of the river. Jack stared across at the Tower of London, downstream to the east. The river was filled with boats and barges. Some were at anchor, while others skimmed the surface, flags fluttering in the breeze. On London Bridge, houses were crammed closely together over the river, smoke pouring from chimneys. The upper floors were tied together by iron bars to stop them toppling backward into the water. Jack counted nineteen small arches holding up the bridge and forcing the river into narrow fast-flowing channels.

  “Looks dangerous,” said Jack, as he watched a boat sweep under one of the arches and almost capsize.

  “It is,” said Meg. They watched the boatman struggle to get his craft back on an even keel. “The bridge is always crowded. A lot of people use the ferry boats to cross the river. But under the bridge the water’s fast. Boatmen are always drowning.”

  Staring at the surging water, Jack wasn’t surprised.

  The stone gateway to the bridge was filled with a teeming procession of men, women, children and animals. Meg and Jack wove through the crowds until they reached the other side.

  Once again Jack saw the gruesome sight of human heads stuck on poles. Flocks of ravens pecked away at the rotting flesh.

  “King Richard’s executioner’s been busy,” said Meg, seeing Jack look up at the grim display.

  If I don’t succeed, my head will be up there too, thought Jack.

  Meg pointed to several men standing in the water, chained to the underside of the wooden loading docks.

  “Get washed by two tides a day, they do,” said Meg. “Teaches them a lesson, they say. John was tied up there once.”

  “What did he do?”

  “Who knows?” Meg replied with a shrug. “Best not to get caught. Come, we need to be outside the tunnel when the tide falls.”

  Jack shuddered at the thought of having to crawl through the narrow tunnel under the moat.

  As they left the bridge behind, Meg and Jack entered a bewildering maze of narrow lanes, twisting streets and dark alleys. The sound of horses' hooves mingled with the shouts of brawling drunks and the cries of traders selling their wares.

  Open sewers ran down the middle of the streets to the river, and the foul odour hanging in the air made Jack queasy. Meg pulled him aside to avoid the contents of chamber-pots being emptied out of windows.

  Struggling through a herd of cattle, they finally reached the heavily guarded main gate of the Tower.

  “To the wharf,” said Meg.

  Jack followed and sat down next to her beside the murky river.

  Meg took a loaf of bread and a chunk of cheese out of a sack and started to cut them with her knife.

  “Got this off an old lady on the bridge. Hungry?” Meg asked, offering Jack the stolen food.

  “Now what?” Jack asked, with his mouth full.

  “Now we wait for the water level to drop.”

  Breaking Into Prison

  XIII

  It was noon by the time the river level was low enough for Meg to spot the tunnel. Quickly, she leapt down into the receding water and scrambled into the opening. Then she hesitated.

  “What is it?” asked Jack, right behind her at the entrance.

  “The roof,” said Meg, grimly. “I’ll wager more of the stones have given way.”

  “Is it safe?” Jack asked uneasily.

  “We’d best make haste if we want to get in.”

  Jack crawled into the gloomy entrance. Meg was right. There was a lot more rubble on the ground. Small pebbles and dust fell from the ceiling as he picked his way along. A steady trickle of water from the moat above gathered in deep pools. Recoiling from the touch of a skull, Jack struck the roof of the tunnel with his head. He ducked as chunks of stone fell on top of him.

  “Take care!” hissed Meg from up ahead. “Do you want the whole tunnel coming down?”

  Jack breathed a huge sigh of relief as he emerged from under the staircase into the kitchen.

  “That tunnel’s much worse,” said Meg. “Get me the jewels quickly so I can get right back out again. Where are they kept?”

  “Follow me.”

  Cautiously, Jack led Meg up a winding staircase to the roof of the tower. They stepped into the open air and looked out at the castle courtyard.

  I wonder where they took Edward and Richard, Jack thought. Oh, I remember. The history books mention the White Tower.

  “See that white building over there?” Jack whispered.

  Meg nodded silently.

  “That’s where the jewels are kept. See all the guards? Now follow me, quietly.”

  They went back down the stairs, emerging into the courtyard through an unguarded doorway.

  The Tower grounds were filled with short squat tents like the ones Jack had seen at the army camp outside the city. Colourful flags displayed heraldic symbols. Horses drank from cisterns.

  Two women came out of the White Tower and headed toward them. Jack and Meg shrank back into the shadows of an archway as the women passed by.

  “Those poor boys,” the first woman said.

  “I know,” said the second. “Now King Richard’s been crowned, I don’t expect they’ll be around much longer.”

  They’re still alive! Jack thought. But how do I get past the guards?

  Jack noticed an old man in a red and gold uniform struggling to push a wheelbarrow loaded with large cuts of raw meat across the grounds.

  I think he’s heading for the Lion Tower, thought Jack, remembering the map he had looked at in the Tower gift shop. He must be the Keeper of the Lions.

  “What now?” Meg whispered.

  “We create a diversion,” Jack replied with a smile. “Come on.”

  The Lion’s Den

  XIV

  Jack kept his head down, and he and Meg stayed a discreet distance behind the old man with the wheelbarrow as he went through the Tower at the Gate and crossed a short bridge over the moat.

  When he reached the Lion Tower on the other side of the moat, the old man took a chunk of meat off the cart and tossed it over a low wall. Then he continued down a ramp to the Royal Menagerie. Jack crept over to the wall and peered into the pit below. A lion was ravenously tearing apart the meat.

  Jack and Meg slipped down the ramp and lingered in the shadows at the lower level. Cave-like animal enclosures held two eagles, a snarling leopard and a sleeping bear. Several small monkeys chattered crazily when the old man hobbled over to feed them.

  One cage was empty, and Jack could see the lion through a back gate that led to the outdoor pit beyond. The old man was cleaning the cage and its front gate was open. Jack signalled to Meg to stay hidden.

  “One of the bears has escaped from its pit!” Jack yelled breathlessly as he ran into the lion cage.

  The old man turned around in alarm and dashed out of the cage.

  His absence gave Jack the opportunity to lift the catch on the back gate of the cage. He could see the lion eating. Jack took a deep breath and stepped into the light, waving wildly. The lion charged, and Jack turned and ran back out of the cage, past the place where Meg was hiding.

  “Run for it, Meg!” Jack yelled, as he raced for the bridge at the upper level, followed closely by Meg and the lion, which chased them both over the short bridge into the main courtyard.

  Perfect, Jack thought as he hid behind a wall.

  Guards seemed to appear from every corner of the courtyard, brandishing spears and sounding the alarm. Jack lost sight of Meg in the confusion.

  She’ll have to fend for herself, Jack thought. Let’s see if my plan worked.

  He made a run for the White Tower. To Jack’s relief the door was no longer guarded. He stepped inside and cautiously began to
climb the stairs. He stopped when he saw a familiar figure on the upper landing. It was the one-eyed man, with his sword drawn.

  Jack pulled back out of sight and stepped onto a serving tray, making a loud clatter.

  “Who goes there?” the one-eyed man called out.

  Jack reached down, picked up a heavy silver plate from the tray and came out into the open.

  The one-eyed man gaped at him. “What in God’s name—” he began.

  Before he could finish his sentence, Jack whirled the plate at him like a frisbee. It struck him in the forehead and he fell backward, knocked out cold. His sword rattled down the steps. Jack grabbed it and bounded upstairs. He released the keys from the one-eyed man’s belt, unlocked the door and swung it open.

  This is the room I saw in my dream, Jack realized with a shudder.

  “Jack!” exclaimed Edward. “I knew you would come back! Was it you who let the lion loose?”

  “Yes,” said Jack. “We have to get out of here while the guards are still distracted by the lion.”

  “Edward? Who is this?” Richard stammered. “He looks exactly like you, and he’s wearing your clothes!”

  He stared first at Jack, then at his brother, then back at Jack again.

  “This is my friend Jack,” Edward explained. “I told you about the letters we exchanged and his visit to the Tower.”

  “We have to go now!” Jack insisted, gesturing at the guard slumped outside the doorway. “He won’t stay unconscious forever.”

  “Wait a moment,” said Edward, dashing back over to one of the beds. “I must not forget my box.”

  He came back with the letterbox, or rather his version of it from 1483.

  “How did you get it from the other room?” Jack asked.

  “I bribed a serving-woman to fetch it,” Edward said with a wry smile. “Give me the sword, Jack, unless you know how to use it.”

  Jack handed the weapon to Edward.

  “Follow me,” said Edward, leading the way as the three boys hurried from the room.

  He took two steps down the stairs but stopped in his tracks. There were now three soldiers standing at the entrance.