The Song of Heledd
Page 21
I lick my lips, glance shiftily into the shadows, uncertain if he is honest or otherwise. He has a monkish look, which makes me suspect trickery all the more and my disquiet increases. Since the King closed the monasteries England is peopled with such men, monkish fellows up to their overgrown tonsures in deceit. Outcast wretches seeking a path in an altered world; a world they cannot make fit. He clears his throat and his voice when it comes is surprisingly musical, like a popish chant.
“My name is Nicholas Brennan and I’ve been watching you,” he says and my blood chills as I cast my mind back, mentally retracing my movements, wondering what I’ve done wrong. I can’t recall having broken any laws and so I cough the nervousness from my throat and feign a confidence I do not feel. With a hand to my dagger, I swagger a little, tilt my head and pitch my voice a shade lower than usual.
“Indeed? And may I ask why?”
His eyes slither about the room, as if seeking eavesdroppers, and I remember that in some parts of England there are spies in every hollow.
“I am ever on the lookout for a likely man. My master has need of those he can trust.” There is a pause before he adds, “And I know your father to be an honest man.”
“My father?”
“Oh yes, Master Wareham, we know well who you are. My people have been watching you for some months now. You keep intriguing company. A whoremonger is never taken seriously. He can come and go, both in court circles and lowly, with no questions asked. Such a man could serve my master well.”
I scowl and decide I do not like this fellow. A whoremonger indeed! But before I can remonstrate with him, he pinions me with his icy stare, compelling me to do as he wishes.
“And who is your master?” I ask, trying to sound as if the answer to my question concerns me not at all. “What does he do?”
“His name need not concern you, but my master strives for a better England and attempts to lead the headstrong King along a new and learned path, young sir.” He leans closer, the stench of his rancid breath forcing me to avert my nose. “My master is a powerful man. He is the King’s servant, but you will not hear his name from my lips.”
“How can you ask me to serve a man I do not know? Perhaps he works against the King. I should never do that. I am an honest fellow.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Master Brennan fixes me with pale, cold eyes that seem to burn right through my bravado. He clears his throat. “You have my word that we work only in the King’s interest and for the good of England. In these days it is hard for a man to know whom to trust, the King more than anyone is vulnerable to spies and betrayal. We serve King Henry and work only to bring down his enemies … and …” He tosses a purse into my lap, a fat purse that clinks with good fortune. “We pay our servants well.”
My fingers clutch involuntarily at the coin and I realise that with an income such as this, I can marry where I will.
To purchase The Winchester Goose click here:
Judith Arnopp's books are all available in paperback and on Kindle. To purchase click on the titles below.
Peaceweaver: the Story of Eadgyth, Queen to both Gruffydd ap Llewellyn of Wales and Harold II of England
The Forest Dwellers: A tale of Norman Oppression
Dear Henry: Confessions of the Queens: Short Tudor Stories
The Winchester Goose: At the court of Henry VIII: A story of Tudor intrigue and vice
The Kiss of the Concubine: The story of Anne Boleyn – coming soon
A Tapestry of Time: Historical Short Stories
Waving at Trains: A volume of poetry
More information about Judith and her books can be found on her official webpage