by D. K. Wilson
‘Master Walden, I’m a simple merchant. Unlike you, I do not conduct my business by shouts and threats. I work on the basis of mutual trust. I am here to conclude a deal. If you’ve decided not to trust me, we have nothing further to discuss.’ My gaze flickered to Bart. He shook his head slightly, obviously horrified at the way I was speaking to this frightening man. But suddenly to me he was not frightening. I had been racked by so many emotions in the last few days that something inside me was shouting, ‘Stop’. It was as though I had broken through a fear barrier and my mind was numb. For the moment, at least, I could stand up to this monster whom Ned likened to absolute evil personified. ‘If you have lost interest in the painter,’ I told him, ‘say so and we can both get on with our lives.’ I paused before adding, ‘Although I imagine your paymasters will not be happy about that.’
There was a shimmer of uncertainty in the man’s eyes. I guessed he was not used to people standing up to him and he was, temporarily, disconcerted. ‘Have you lost interest in the children?’ he countered.
I shrugged. ‘They’re not my children. Frankly, they’re a nuisance. I’m sure you’ve discovered that. Why don’t you just send your minion here to fetch them. Then they’ll be off your hands.’
‘Don’t you tell me what to do,’ he snarled. Then, he turned abruptly. ‘Wait here!’ he shouted and walked back across the bridge with his subordinate.
I moved forward a few paces until I could see Ned watching from beside the gate. I nodded and he followed the two men at a discreet distance. Only as I turned back to speak to Bart did my limbs begin to shake.
‘What now?’ Bart asked, as we crossed the street to where the wagon was standing.
‘As soon as Ned reports that the gang are on their way with the hostages, we’ll prepare our reception. You and Ned must concentrate on freeing Adie and the children. Get them to Ned’s house. The rest of us will try to keep Master Walden and his friends occupied.’
‘They’ll put up a vicious fight.’
‘I’m sure of it, but they won’t want to attract a crowd. Black Harry can’t afford to have any of his men arrested. He’s only useful to his paymasters as long as he keeps clear of the law.’
Walt jumped down from the box. ‘We’re all ready, Master. Looking forward to a brawl. There’s a score to be settled.’
‘Be careful. They won’t fight clean. Any sign of unsheathed steel, and you back off. Is that clear? I don’t want anyone wounded or ... worse. The plan is for you and the others to get yourselves between the gang and the hostages. That should enable Bart and Ned to get Adie and the children away.’ Put like that it sounded simple. I knew it would not be.
It was several minutes before Ned reappeared, puffing and wiping his brow. He sat thankfully on a stone mounting block. ‘We were right,’ he said. They have a wagon ... quite large. I couldn’t see inside but I’d say it was big enough for Adie and the children and probably three men to guard them.’
‘Good, that means the odds are on our side.’
Ned shook his head. ‘The bad news is they’re not unloading their cargo. They’re bringing the wagon over the bridge.’
‘Devil take the double-dealing rogue! He doesn’t intend us to see whether he’s brought the hostages or not! For all we know his wagon may be full of armed men come to take Holbein by force. What’s to do now?’
‘Nothing for the moment,’ Ned replied. ‘The traffic is building up. It will take quite a time for them to get through.’
Waiting was the worst of it. We watched the cavalcade of people, vehicles and driven beasts coming away from the City, our nerves growing more jangled every minute. Ned took up his position again by the gate, peering within.
At last he walked briskly back. ‘They’re coming. Black Harry’s a-horseback, riding ahead and trying to clear the way.’
‘Right. You and Bart stand over there by the wall and wait for your chance.’
Moments later the gang leader clattered down the slope from the bridge. He rode a magnificent horse. It was, predictably, as black as night. He reined in where Walt and I stood in the middle of the roadway. ‘Here are your whelps.’ He pointed to the wagon, which followed, yards behind. ‘Where’s my German dauber?’
I indicated our vehicle. ‘Pull up your wagon behind ours,’ I said. ‘But first show us the children and the girl.’
Black Harry scowled down at us. For a moment his right hand drifted towards the pistol in his saddle-holster and it seemed he would defy us. Then Walt strolled over, brandishing his stout stave and the rogue thought better of it. He yanked at his rein and went across to the wagon, which was coming to a halt at the roadside. He said something to the men inside. The rear curtain parted and a bundle was handed out. It was Annie. He took the girl, held her on his pommel and walked his horse back. ‘Satisfied?’ he asked.
I had no chance to reply.
Several things happened at once. Bart cried out, ‘Annie!’ and rushed forward. Black Harry drew his gun and cocked it. Walt struck at him with his staff. The weapon fell to the ground and discharged with an alarming bang. My men spilled out of the wagon and ran to surround the other vehicle. Before they could reach it, its rear curtain was pulled aside and five of Black Harry’s men tumbled out. With shouts and screams, the two forces fell upon each other. They filled the roadway. Other travellers ran panicking in all directions. In the midst of the mayhem I rushed to the gang’s wagon. Ned was there before me, peering inside. He turned and shook his head. ‘They’re not here,’ he called.
I ran back across the road. The horse was skittering around as Black Harry tried to hold it steady, while drawing his sword, hampered by his burden.
‘Where are the woman and the boys?’ I shouted.
‘You think to make a fool of me! I will send you the boys – in pieces! The woman? Well, my friends and I can find a use for her.’ He threw Annie down roughly, called out an order to his men and spurred away down Long Southwark. His followers scrambled back into their wagon and set off in the same direction at a swaying trot.
Bart grabbed up his screaming daughter and hugged her to him. Calm spread back across the street. The whole incident had lasted no more than a few seconds. What had it achieved? For the life of me I knew not.
Chapter 10
‘How is she? I asked, as Lizzie descended the stair.
‘Asleep at last. She was clinging desperately but I think I’ve managed to calm her. I just hope she’ll be able to forget.’
‘I’m told children are amazingly resilient,’ Ned suggested, ‘but I can’t back that with personal experience.’
Lizzie, Bart and I were supping at Ned’s house that evening. I had sent the others back to Goldsmith’s Row and despatched a message to Bart’s wife, who had hurried to join us.
We sat around the table in a state of anti-climax.
‘At least she’s safe,’ I said.
‘Do I sense a “but” coming?’ Ned asked.
‘I’m just angry with myself for bungling everything. Of course it was all worth it to get Annie back but, apart from that, we’re no further forward. Bart’s still wanted for murder. The only witness who can give evidence against Black Harry has disappeared without trace. Worse than that, we’ve probably forced the gang to butcher their captives.’
‘Do you really believe all that talk of sending the children back in pieces?’Bart asked.
Ned stared down at his trencher. ‘I fear Black Harry is not the sort of man to make idle threats.’
‘The boys are such lively mites.’ Lizzie sighed. ‘I keep thinking that our Jack will be like them in a few years. And Adie is so nice. To imagine what those brutes ...’
We ate in silence for a long time.
It was Lizzie who broke it – in her usual emphatic manner. She threw down her spoon and declared, ‘We must do something.’
‘What do you suggest?’
‘You’re supposed to be the one with brains. Come up with a plan. You won’t be able to marry Adie if y
ou don’t rescue her.’
‘A plague on your confounded matchmaking, Lizzie. This is nothing to do with marriage. I’ve extended my protection to Adie and her charges. I didn’t want to and sometimes I wish I’d never ...’
‘Oh well, in that case, you’d better leave her to her fate.’ Lizzie pouted – an expression I always found annoying.
‘I didn’t say I don’t care what happens to Adie and the boys. I just don’t see what else we can do for them.’
‘Perhaps we could start,’ Ned said, ‘by thinking about what we know of Black Harry’s movements. Where will he be headed for right now?’
‘He has powerful supporters in Kent,’ I said.
‘And a base in Essex,’ Bart added.
‘That would enable him to travel to and fro across the estuary quite easily. You don’t know whereabouts in Essex his place is, I suppose?’
Bart frowned in concentration. ‘Well, the information came from a pedlar who travels all over the eastern parts. He said he knew things about Black Harry as could get him killed if ever he told them. So I bought him some more ale, and then some more again, and eventually he blurted out about a gang that has a big house on the Essex marshes. He said it was near somewhere called ...’ He closed his eyes and hammered his fist against his brow. ‘No, it’s no use; I can’t remember. It was some place I’d never heard of, so I didn’t take a deal of notice.’
‘Pity. The marshes cover a wide area – though I would guess the gang’s boss can’t be all that far from the crossing at Tilbury.’
‘Are you thinking we should go there and look for him?’ Ned asked. ‘We could ask in the ale houses. Someone must know something.’
I thought hard. ‘No, it would be too big an area for us to search and he’d know we were there before ever we found him. I suppose it might be worth ... We’ve probably got enough ... Oh, I don’t know! I must think.’
What I was struggling to decide was whether to alert Archbishop Cranmer. I had promised to send him any information that might help him against his enemies and there was no doubt that he would relish the opportunity to interrogate Black Harry and his associates. Well, now I could give him some indication of where to find the gang’s hideout. But would it really be of any use? Suppose Bart’s drunken pedlar was simply hawking tall stories for free ale. Or what if Black Harry was not to be found in his lair? If Cranmer’s men went tramping around the Essex marshes that would send the hell brood deeper into hiding.
‘If there’s the slightest chance of saving Adie and the boys you know you must take it.’ Lizzie’s words broke through my doubts.
‘Any search that stood a chance of success would demand many more men than we have at our disposal. Unless we can narrow down ...’
‘Flitching! No, that’s not it!’ Bart had been pacing to and fro but now suddenly stopped. ‘Flitcham? No.’
‘Don’t cudgel your brains, Bart,’ Ned said. ‘I find sleep to be the best thing for a cloudy memory. You’ll probably find in the morning ...’
‘Fletcham!’ Bart shouted. ‘Yes, Fletcham, Fletcham. I’m sure that’s it!’
Lizzie went over and threw her arms round him. ‘There’s a clever boy.’ She turned to me. ‘Well, then?’
I sighed. ‘Yes, if Bart’s right I could take a few men and spy out the land. If the girl and her charges are there we’ll find them.’
Ned said, ‘Then God speed. I pray you’ll not be too late.’
The sun’s rays had just touched the top of Paul’s spire when I rode briskly through the cathedral yard and turned into West Cheap. I jumped from the saddle in my own stable yard and called loudly for Walt. He emerged from the outbuildings, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
‘I want everyone horsed and ready to leave in ten minutes,’ I ordered.
When we were assembled I led the way through the waking City down to the waterfront below the bridge. At Custom House Wharf half a dozen coastal vessels were unloading or taking on cargo. After a few enquiries I found one captain who was ready to consider a charter. There then followed the necessary haggling before he allowed us to go aboard with the horses. By the time sails were hoisted and we were moving slowly past the Tower the river ahead of us was a broad pathway of shimmering gold.
With nothing to do but wait upon the favours of wind and tide I had plenty of time to explain my plan to the others. ‘Dick, we’re going to drop you off at Gravesend. You’re to ride as hard as you can to the archbishop’s house at Ford. Give him this letter. If you have any difficulty gaining access to his grace, show this ring.’ I handed him Cranmer’s jewel. ‘As soon as you’ve done that you are to ride on and deliver this other letter to Sir Thomas Moyle. His grace or his secretary will give you directions. The letters are appeals for mounted men to be sent to assist us. The rest of us will be taken across the river to Tilbury. From there we’ll try to locate Black Harry’s lair.’
‘Do you know whether we’ll find our black friend at home?’ Walt asked.
‘No, but I hope we may have got ahead of him. The last time we saw him he was probably heading for Kent Street. He has friends in the county with whom he can rest so I doubt whether he would be in a hurry to get to the ferry. We may be able to check on that when we reach Gravesend. To answer your question more fully, Walt, I don’t know what we’ll find when we get to Fletcham. I suspect all we’ll be able to do is spy out the land and wait for reinforcements. For now I suggest we all find somewhere to rest. Life may get hectic when we go ashore.’ I found a corner where I could wrap myself in my riding cloak and curl up by the bulkhead. Fitfully, I slept.
When, at length, we were set ashore the afternoon was well spent. At Tilbury no one had, apparently, noticed a party of mounted men coming from the ferry that day. However, whenever I mentioned a rider on a black horse I noticed that people looked at me warily or exchanged anxious glances. We easily obtained directions to Fletcham and discovered it to be a hamlet on rising ground some five miles further along the coast. It was a scattering of very simple dwellings and there were few people about. Since we had to assume we were in enemy territory we asked no questions. We divided into pairs and split up to explore the surrounding countryside. When we reassembled it was Walt who brought information of what seemed to be the only house in the locality substantial enough to serve as a base for Black Harry and his band.
He led us to a high-walled estate. A chained gate denied access to the short drive leading to the manor house.
‘What now, Master?’he asked.
‘Let’s find a way in,’ someone said. ‘We’ve come this far; why stop now?’
‘That’s right,’ another agreed. ‘They broke into Hemmings. Let’s see how they like it.’
‘I’d be happier if I knew how well guarded the place is,’ I said. ‘Anyway it might not even be the right place.’
As I spoke I edged my mount forward for a closer look at the gate. On one of the stone pillars I made out a carved coat of arms. I peered closely. ‘I’ve seen this before,’ I said.
‘Where?’ Walt asked.
‘I can’t remember. It wasn’t carved.’ I concentrated all my attention on the simple heraldic device. ‘It was ...’I removed my gauntlets and fumbled with the strings of my purse. ‘I think it was ...’ I reached my hand to the bottom and found a crumpled piece of paper. I smoothed it out and squinted in the fading light at the drawing of a cup and cover. ‘Yes, it is the same. Look.’ I handed the paper to Walt. ‘A chevron between three animals of some sort.’
Walt agreed. ‘Yes, you’re right, Master, but what ...’
I explained. ‘This was sent to me by Holbein. I assumed it was just a mistake. But now I think it was a deliberate message. He hoped I might show it to someone who could make the connection.’
The others were now crowding closer, trying to get a look at Holbein’s design. ‘What connection, Master?’ one of them asked.
‘The connection between Black Harry and whoever is supporting him. He knew that the men who attacke
d him on the road and who murdered his assistant were sent by whoever wanted to prevent his information reaching the archbishop. He knew I was trying to find these men. Perhaps he sent the drawing as a clue – or a warning. Since he dared not go to Cranmer in person, he hoped I might be in contact with his grace and would show him the picture. If I’d thought about it properly, I certainly would have done so.’
‘This is the right place, then,’ someone said. ‘What are we to do, Master?’
‘The first thing,’ I said, ‘is to find out who’s at home. Walt, you take John and Simon and go round to the left. The rest of us will follow the wall to the right. When we meet we’ll compare notes.’
Some twenty minutes later both groups had come together on the far side of the walled grounds.
‘Not very large,’ Walt commented. ‘Not half the size of Hemmings. In good order, though.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘The walls are well kept and the only small door we found was securely bolted. Did anyone hear any noise inside?’
‘All very quiet, Master.’
‘Not a sound.’
‘I heard nothing.’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘we mustn’t assume too much from that. We’ll climb the wall and everyone keep your wits about you.’
‘We passed an ideal spot,’ Walt said. ‘There’s a copse comes right close to the wall. We can leave the horses there, well hidden, in case anyone comes by.’
We found the location and dismounted. I delegated Simon, the youngest of our party, to stay with the horses. He protested. ‘Let John stay outside. I’m better in a fight than him.’
‘All the more reason why we need you out here. Stand near the gate. If you hear anyone coming, get yourself over the wall and come and warn us. If there’s any fighting – which God in heaven forbid – we’ll need someone who can go for help. If we’re not back here within the hour ride like the wind to Tilbury and wait for the men that Cranmer and Moyle should be sending. The rest of you remember we are just spying out the ground. If you see any of Black Harry’s men inside make sure they don’t see you. We’ve come to find out if the hostages are here. That’s all. If there’s any fighting to be done it must wait till we have reinforcements. As soon as we’ve found out what we can we’ll all make our way back to the horses. Good luck, everyone.’
