‘Nay, it’s not more Kentishmen. It’s men out of Essex and thereabouts. This side of the river. They’re coming to Mile End it’s being said, and there’s talk there’s more gathering in from the west, and talk that the king is gone from Berkhampstead yesterday because he knew it then, and that now he’s gone…“ She paused, gleaming with her news. ”… for Kenilworth or Coventry!“
‘But they’re…“ Away somewhere. North, but she didn’t know how far except it was far. ”What good can he do us from Kenilworth or Coventry?“
‘None,“ Bette said. ”It’s said the mayor and alderman are to meet at the Guildhall on what we’re to do, since no one else is going to do aught for us, seems.“
Anne realized she was holding a third breadloaf and that there was a large lump of probably cheese wrapped in waxed cloth still in the basket; and holding up the loaf and pointing at the basket, she asked, “What’s this? It’s more than we usually buy in a week.”
Bette straightened, hands resting on her knees and satisfaction on her face. “To see us through if we have to keep inside for a few days. I mean to go out later for more.”
‘You’ll not. You’ll be unable to walk for a week if you do. I’ll go.“ Because Bette was right: if bad enough trouble came, they might have to keep to the house.
‘You’d best go soon, then. I’m not the only one who thinks things may go worse before they go better. We’ll want water, too.“
At least it was something to do besides thinking, and Anne broke her fast with bread and an apple while putting on her outer gown, wimple, and veil. Marketing in her turn, she bought no more bread—it would not keep—but did get another cheese. Kept in a cool crock, it should do. And the last dozen salted herring at the fishmonger’s because they would keep, too. With that and the dried beans and peas they already had, they should do well enough for food, and after giving it all over to Bette, she went back and forth a few times to the nearer Cheapside conduit, fetching water to fill everything they had to spare for it in the house, and hearing while she did more about the rebels out of Essex.
‘A good few thousand of them,“ a man was saying to someone else while she waited for her bucket to fill under one of the fountain mouths. ”At Mile End outside Aldgate, aye.“
‘What do they want?“ a woman asked.
‘Same as Jack Cade’s lot, I hear,“ someone else said; and the woman said happily, ”That’s all right, then.“
From what Anne heard and didn’t hear, there seemed no great trouble happening in Southwark—nothing beyond the expected reveling among the taverns and brothels—with people still saying that gave weight to Cade’s promise the rebels weren’t out to make trouble, only to right wrongs and be rid of the corrupt men around the king. “And that can’t happen any too soon,” a woman filling a pitcher beside Anne called to some nearby talking men, while another woman shouted at them, “Best hie yourselves to the Guildhall and tell the mayor and all!”
One of the men shouted back, “They couldn’t hear us over their own tongue-flailing! Best we just open the gates and let Cade do the talking for us!” And the general laughter at that sounded less at a jest than approving a thought that was gaining ground.
Over their dinner of bean pottage, bread, and apple tart, Anne reported all of it to Bette who muttered about fools and kings and thought she’d go to talk with Mab next door.
Anne, ready to be alone, went upstairs, meaning to work while waiting for Dame Frevisse to come; but the thoughts she had lost in the morning’s busyness came back on her in a dark rush, and not about to imperil the gold lion or costly thread with her distraction, she tried to work on a garnet-dyed linen band she was embroidering with a green fretwork in simple cross stitch, but her stitches proved to be as uneven as her thoughts and she soon gave it up and simply sat. She didn’t want sewing. She wanted Daved.
She had left the top of the streetward door open for air to move through the house, and he must have let himself in, because she had no warning except his quick footfall on the steps before he was there, and she was barely to her feet with a small cry of disbelief, relief, and joy before she was in his arms.
Too soon, though, he drew back a step, not letting her go but telling her without words they would go no further yet. In return, Anne fought herself to steadiness, slipped her hands down to his waist to hold him as he was holding her, and said, smiling, “I hoped and hoped you’d come to me today.”
‘I hoped I’d be here before now.“ He took another quick kiss. ”And I wish I could stay.“
Even expected, her disappointment was sharp. Only barely she kept her voice light as she said, “But you can’t.”
‘I can’t. It would leave too much on my uncle. We’re moving our goods back to the ship…“
‘You’re leaving?“ This time Anne failed to keep raw dismay from her voice.
‘Not yet, no, and we may not. This is only against the chance things go to the bad.“
His other times in London, they had sometimes had a month and more together. This was barely a week, and Anne said, sounding pitiful and pleading even to herself, “You’d leave? Now?”
‘Only if there’s no safe other way.“ Unexpectedly he was pleading back to her. ”There are too many people’s lives depend on our returning with what we’ve gained this journey. We can’t risk losing it, my uncle and I.“
Almost Anne demanded, What of our life? But that was against all the rules she had set herself; she had strangled the words unsaid even before Bette called up the stairs, “Dame Frevisse is here, mistress. Shall she come up?”
Anne gasped, but Daved nodded his head toward the window bench where she’d been sitting and moved away to sit himself in the chair while she called, “Of course. Thank you, Bette,” and sat down at the window, so that when Dame Frevisse appeared up the stairs, they were both able to stand up to greet her as if they had been sitting in simple talk until then, Daved saying as he bowed Dame Frevisse to the chair, “You’re bold to brave the streets today, my lady.”
‘I’m hoping to finish my business with Mistress Blakhall and leave London.“ She made a small smile. ”That was the only way my steward was persuaded to let me leave St. Helen’s at all. Unhappily, I hear there are rebels rumored to the west now. Please,“ she added as Daved remained standing. ”Won’t you sit?“
She gestured toward the long window seat, and with a small bow of thanks Daved sat down a careful distance aside from Anne while saying, “It’s possible. The anger against King Henry is running deeper and wider all the time.”
With the bitter likelihood of soon losing Daved spilling over into bitterness at the king, Anne said, “The only place we haven’t heard of rebels is northward. That must be why he’s run that way.”
‘That report is true, then?“ Dame Frevisse asked.
‘I gather so, yes,“ Daved answered. ”There were some several boatloads of clerks and documents came down from Westminster to the Tower on the last tide. The guess is that they were bringing things to safer keeping.“
‘He won’t even defend his own,“ Anne said. ”What does he expect from us if he won’t do even that?“
‘He probably expects London to look to itself,“ said Daved. ”The way he’s looking to himself. Isn’t it usually the way with great lords to see to themselves first, and if they think of their people at all, it’s only to wonder how hard to tax them?“
‘Then King Henry should most particularly want to defend London,“ said Dame Frevisse dryly. ”Given the wealth here to be taxed, you wouldn’t think he’d want to lose it to rebels.“
‘He probably supposes London will defend itself for that very reason—its own wealth,“ Daved answered. ”Why trouble himself when they will do it for him?“
‘Too fair and likely a supposition,“ Dame Frevisse granted. ”Have you heard anything of what’s toward at the Guildhall?“
‘Master Grene went himself to hear what he could. He came back to say he couldn’t get near. The Guildhall was full to the
walls and out the door. The word spread out from there, though, was that the mayor and aldermen are debating the rebels’ demands. There’s strong talk that Cade and his Kentishmen have the right of it, so why not join in with them since the king is doing nothing to make anything better.“
‘St. Paul defend us,“ Anne breathed.
‘Mistress,“ Bette called from the stairfoot. ”I’ve ale ready if someone will fetch it.“
Daved immediately made to rise, but Anne was more quickly to her feet, calling, “I’m coming.”
Behind her as she went down the stairs, Dame Frevisse said, “Daved is not a common name in France or Flanders, is it? Are you part Welsh?”
Taking the tray with cups and pitcher, Anne’s thanks to Bette were short as she listened to Daved answering easily, “My mother was the daughter of a Scottish man-at-arms who made his fortune in the French war.” There was a smile in his voice. “Fighting for the French against the English.”
‘Helping keep the English busy there, rather than in Scotland,“ Dame Frevisse acknowledged, an equal smile in her words.
‘Just so. He married there, and here I am, trading with the English. A different way of raiding them, I suppose, from what my grandfather used to do.“
Dame Frevisse a little laughed at that, and Anne set the tray on the table, smiling with them both, hiding her thought of how easily Daved had given that lie. It was probably one he had given other times before now, and there was no good reason why it should hurt her to hear it, but it did. Not for itself, she thought as she poured ale and handed a cup to Dame Frevisse, but because she was coming to see how so much of his life was a lie, was becoming frightened of how many lies there were.
Her mind was jerked elsewhere by Dame Frevisse asking Daved, “How is it with Mistress Grene?”
Anne knew she should have asked that at first seeing him and was ashamed as Daved answered gravely, “Much as you might expect. Mistress Hercy does what she can, but how much can be done against such a grief?”
‘What of Lucie?“ Anne asked, bringing a filled cup to him.
‘I think she still only half-believes it’s true.“
‘Is anyone doing anything for Mistress Hercy?“ Dame Frevisse asked.
‘She cares for herself by taking care of others, I think.“
Dame Frevisse nodded understanding of that likelihood. Anne sat down with her own drink and a little silence fell among them, Dame Frevisse looking down into the cup in her hands resting on her lap, Anne looking at Daved, Daved looking at Dame Frevisse. Anne knew his face well enough to know he was thinking of something more than just the moment, but she had no guess what before he said quietly, “Dame Frevisse.”
She raised her gaze to him, her look as quiet as his voice.
‘About the duchess of Suffolk’s gold,“ Daved said.
Anne drew in a sharp breath, but Dame Frevisse only said, “Yes?”
Daved slightly smiled. “You already thought I had something to do with it?”
‘Given one thing and another, it seemed likely. And the more likely when I met you here today.“
Daved’s smile deepened. “All our hope for secrecy seems to have been as undone by Jack Cade as the king has been. I came here today, yes, to give Mistress Blakhall the last of the gold.”
Hurt twisted in Anne. She had thought it was for her alone he’d come.
‘The trouble is,“ said Dame Frevisse, ”that I haven’t even taken the second one. I’m here for it today. And now you say there’s a third.“
‘The last. But I fear you’ll have to take both today.“
He began to unfasten his doublet. Anne rose and went to the chest beside the door. By the time she returned with the purse from there, Daved had brought out another one and was giving it to Dame Frevisse, who took it without pleasure, looked at the one that Anne laid on her lap beside it, and said, even-voiced, “I’m not happy about this.”
‘None of us are,“ Daved answered.
They sounded so alike that Anne suddenly wondered what things the nun, like Daved, kept hidden behind quietness.
Then Dame Frevisse looked up at Daved and surprisingly smiled. “At least you’re quit of it. You can be glad of that.”
He matched her smile. “I promise you I am.” He made a slight bow to both her and Anne. “Now, by your ladies’ leave, I must go about my other business.”
Despite the sharp cut of her disappointment, Anne said evenly, “I’ll see you to the door.” Hopeful of another moment alone with him.
‘My thanks, but no,“ he said. ”You have your other guest.“ And he bowed to them again and left, leaving Anne bereft of even a final touch of his hand.
Chapter 14
Frevisse, watching Mistress Blakhall watch Master Weir leave, thought they would do well to be seen together as little as possible. With what she had seen yesterday and Mistress Blakhall’s many small betrayals today, her guess was strengthened that they were more familiar with each other than outwardly admitted. How much “familiar” was not her business, she firmly told herself and held up the two purses of gold and asked, “Can you help with this again?”
Mistress Blakhall readily fetched a large scrap of heavy cloth and a length of thick cord from a basket near the window seat and sat down beside her sewing basket to begin cutting a circle from the cloth, asking while she did, “Are you still wearing the other?”
‘It’s safe in St. Helen’s,“ Frevisse said. Empty, she did not add, and the coins spread under unbound pages of books in the box strapped shut and put under her bed.
‘That’s to the good. You’d be more than a little burdened otherwise.“
‘The thought of it all is burden enough.“
‘True.“ Mistress Blakhall paused to push a straying wisp of hair from her damp forehead out of sight under her wimple before choosing a needle and threading it.
Watching as she began deftly to stitch along the folded-over edge of the cloth, Frevisse asked, “This Master Weir. ”Won’t his coming here so often—three visits near together to bring this gold—raise talk among your neighbors?“
Mistress Blakhall’s hands did not falter. She went on working her needle quickly in and out while answering easily, “He’s been here sometimes before now. It’s known I buy Paris-spun gold thread from him. Some kinds of better silk thread, too, at a better price than I’d have from a draper or mercer. It’s a kindness he does me because he knew my father. The neighbors talk, but their talk is something I live with anyway, being a woman living alone and working my own way in the world.”
‘You prefer that to marrying again?“ Frevisse asked mildly.
‘I do.“ Mistress Blakhall paused her sewing and looked up. ”Another man so good and loving as my husband was would be hard to find, and since God has seen fit to give me such skills that I need not marry from necessity, I’ve chosen not to. I’ve come to like my life as a ’woman alone.‘ “ She went back to stitching. ”Will you leave London now you have all the gold?“
‘If it’s at all possible, we’ll be away on the next upriver tide.“
‘Will that be safe if there are rebels to the west, the way rumor is running?“
‘We can only wait for better word or else take our chance,“ Frevisse said calmly. And did not add the question large in her own mind: How safe was London going to stay? Gates and bridges depended on people’s willingness to keep them shut, and from what she had heard, London’s willingness had begun to waver. Master Naylor had been disappointed to the edge of anger today that Dame Clemens was willing to go out of St. Helen’s with her again; had insisted he and Dickon both accompany them and was downstairs now, waiting with undoubted restlessness to be away, both from here and London. With that thought, Frevisse said, ”Concerning the cloth for the vestments. May I simply give you leave to choose such as you deem best for the work and recommend you have it from Master Grene?“
‘That would serve well.“
And both she and Master Grene would play straight in the matte
r, Frevisse thought, because the duchess of Suffolk was a woman only fools would try to cheat, and why do so when her future favor would be worth far more than some present small gain?
Mistress Blakhall had finished her stitching, was beginning to work the cord through the cloth’s folded-over edge to become a drawstring.
Frevisse watched in silence, and when Mistress Blakhall gathered the cloth on the cord, completing the bag, Frevisse gave over the two purses. Mistress Blakhall put them into the bag and helped Frevisse put the cord around her neck under the concealing folds of her wimple. The weight was doubled from last time but again, with the purse slipped inside her gown, nothing showed, and Mistress Blakhall gave a sigh of relief much like the one Frevisse supposed she’d give, too, once she was as quit of the gold as Mistress Blakhall now was.
The Sempster's Tale Page 14
