Dear Heart, How Like You This

by Wendy J. Dunn

  “I will untie Señor now. Señor must realise that it is no use to escape. Señor has many good Spanish and German soldiers looking after him.”

  With those words the soldier cut the bonds that made me so helpless. I then sat up, shaking my body to rid myself feeling the kinks of the ropes, watching, as I did, my captor leave the confines of the tiny tent.

  Imagine my surprise when it was not the Spaniard who returned but an Italian woman with plaited black hair, dressed in clothes that had seen better days—a woman big-bellied with child.

  When she saw me, she almost dropped her basket of food. I too felt utterly astounded.

  “Tomas,” she whispered, moving a quick step closer to me.

  “Lucrezia,” I likewise replied.

  She fearfully glanced behind her, but seeing us still alone, she came closer to me, putting the basket on the ground.

  “Tomas. How come you here?”

  “I do not know, Lucrezia. All I remember is walking back to my lodgings. Someone must have been waiting for me…”

  Lucrezia stayed quiet for a short time, clearly thinking, and then came even closer to put her hands on mine.

  “Some Italian traitor must have realised who you were, and sold you to the Spaniards. I am so sorry, Tomas.”

  We were both silent for a moment and then I began to perceive a way out of my predicament, but it all depended on this woman before me. I returned my gaze to her.

  “Do you think you can help me escape, Lucrezia?”

  She dropped my hands and backed away from me, fear etched deep onto her pale face. Furtively Lucrezia looked all around her.

  “Oh, Tomas. Do not ask this of me. It would be too difficult. I am a Spaniard’s woman now. I bear his child. He has promised to take me back to Spain with him. I cannot risk to make Juan angry.”

  “There must be a way you can help, Lucrezia, without the Spaniards knowing.”

  Lucrezia stared at me with those huge, dark eyes—eyes that were reminiscent of my dearly beloved girl back home. Coming back to take my hand, she looked around again, and squeezed my hand quickly.

  “I go now, Tomas. Maybe I can help, but I can promise you nothing.”

  Lucrezia departed from the tent and I was left with a basket of stale bread, a flask of wine, and vile tasting meat.

  While I ate what I could of this I looked around at my surroundings. The interior of the tent was lit by only one large candle. Thus, what I could see was very unformed and difficult to fully make out, yet the shadows cast by this one candle told me, without investigating further, that I was in space not much bigger than a few feet across in any direction. I got up from the straw where I was lying and walked slowly to the flap of the tent. What I saw when I lifted the flap was as the soldier said—a hoard of troops surrounded me. I wondered how I could possibly escape from this dreadful mess I now found myself in.

  Several days later, the army began its march through the Italian countryside. I was securely tied to a mule, with two mounted guards on either side of me; thus, I was unable to do anything that would achieve my freedom.

  I felt depressed by the turn of events, but not altogether hopeless. Carlo, the courier sent with me by the Duke of Ferrara, would have, by this time, raised the alarm about my forced absence. I knew that Sir John would not hesitate to use his influence, and the influence of others, to obtain my release. I only hoped that my release could be achieved without any gold having to be passed from hand to hand.

  This particular army moved slowly over the Italian countryside. Indeed, it struck me that this rabble of soldiers appeared to possess very little discipline: just a body of men and their followers who seemed to be headed in the same direction.

  I could not help remembering one of my father’s tales from my boyhood. Harold, the last Saxon King of England, marched his army up near to Scotland and defeated one army seeking conquest of his Kingdom, before having to march his men back to England only to be defeated by another rival seeking conquest. Though defeat and death was at the end of this story, one could not help but feel a sense of pride that England could boast of such men in their history as this King Harold. I felt very sure that if an Englishman led this rabble of men surrounding me, it would have been an army to be proud of. Instead I watched a body of apparently disorganised groups going here, there and everywhere. However, despite the apparent slowness of its operation, we had still made good distance when the soldiers began to make camp again.

  This time I was taken to an empty barn, the only remains of what had been obviously a homestead in former, more peaceful days. The soldiers, who had “escorted” me on my journey, now untied me, dropping the bonds on the earthen floor of the barn after unceremoniously shoving me deep inside. I inferred from the noise they now made on the outside that they had found a beam to ensure that the door remained firmly fixed until they chose to open it.

  My enforced dwelling place had become completely dark when the noise of the door opening put me on guard. I relaxed when I saw Lucrezia, bearing a taper in one hand and a basket of food in the other, enter into my harsh abode. She closed the door behind her, walked over to where I was sitting, putting the taper in its holder down near us, and moved to pass to me the food from the basket.

  “Tomas. We have not long, so please listen carefully.”

  I stopped eating, and stared at her. Hope was beginning to come alive in my chest. “The men who were guarding you are no longer camped outside. They have gone to the village to find drink and women. So, Tomas, if you are to escape, now is the time to do it.”

  “But how, Lucrezia?”

  “Tomas! Please! There is no time for questions. Just listen, and I will tell you how I think you can do it. Most of the soldiers are gathered together to the left of this barn. There is a good chance, if you are careful, that you can get by the few soldiers camped on the other side. Many soldiers, including my Juan, have gone to the village for the night. Those who have stayed behind are too occupied with other things to pay much attention to the frightened Englishman imprisoned securely in this barn. And Tomas, it is a moonless night, so it is very dark outside, which is good because the night will hide you, but not so good in that you will have to move slowly and carefully, Tomas, if you are not to knock into something that will raise the alarm. Once you cross the river, you will know you begin to be safe. I have a small purse of gold in the basket to help get you away to safety. Oh, Tomas, for the love of God, and both our sakes, please don’t raise the alarm!”

  “Lucrezia. How can I ever thank you?”

  She laughed grimly.

  “Tomas—you can thank me by not getting caught. They will find the gold and wonder who it was that gave it to you. It would not be difficult to work out it was I. Oh, Tomas, I beg of you, for the sake of my unborn bambino, do not get caught!”

  I took Lucrezia’s hand. It felt so different from the hand of the woman who had once been my lover. The hand I held was now reddened and broken-nailed, and very, very thin. I raised it to my mouth and kissed it gently before placing her shaking hand on my cheek.

  “I promise you I will not get caught. But, my dear one, why do you risk so much for me?”

  She laughed, and laid her free hand on my shoulder before lifting two fingers to caress my neck.

  “No other man has ever written me a love song, Tomas. I am too much of a woman to ever forget that. But, Tomas, it will need to look like you overpowered me. We will use those ropes near the door to tie me up.”

  I grunted my disgust for this task, but could see the sense of it. So, the next few minutes were occupied ensuring that Lucrezia was well bound.

  “Now, use my scarf to seal up my mouth!” Lucrezia said when I had finished with her bonds. I removed the red scarf from her dark hair. I looked down at it in my hands, and then at her.

  “Hurry, Tomas!” she whispered.

  “Aye, Lucrezia. I will hurry. But before I tie the scarf around your mouth, there is something I must do,” and I bent my head and kiss
ed her long and hard.

  For a short moment, it seemed easy to forget where we were. For a short moment, it was like we had stepped back to that brief time when we had loved with all the abandonment of the very young. When we had finished our kiss, Lucrezia laughed a soft, gay laugh.

  “Oh, Tomas!” she said, shaking her head and looking at me with amusement. “Goodbye my dear, my very dear English lover. But, Tomas, do not waste any more time. You must go now!”

  “Yea! Farewell, bella Lucrezia mia. May our roads cross again so I can repay you what you truly deserve!” With a quick and final kiss, I tied the scarf around her mouth, bent and retrieved the small purse of gold hidden in the basket, and began to make my escape.

  It was like Lucrezia had said. When I emerged from the barn I stepped out into a world seemingly black, except for some faint light emitted from a few stars breaking through the dense veil of evening clouds. I knew that the going was to be extremely difficult because it was almost impossible to see more than a few steps in front of me, especially as thick mist rose out from the cold earth at my feet. However, I knew if I hurried I would be more in danger of being caught and put at grave risk my delivering angel, Lucrezia, so I forced myself to ignore my strong sense of panic, and went to the right of the barn, moving steadily and purposeful into the night.

  Travelling in this fashion made certain that I was able to avoid such areas that appeared to be encamped upon, but progress was so slow that I began to fear that all life had stopped still, and its movements would never start again.

  Just before I reached the bank of the river, the wind strengthened, tearing apart the heavy veil of clouds. The extra light giving forth from the night sky allowed me to quicken my pace. Reaching the river, I began to breathe easier again. However, I knew there was a new problem to be faced and overcome during the river’s crossing: I have proven to be a good sailor, but my ability to stay afloat, once in the water, had little to recommend it. I knew that if the water proved to be too deep it was likely I would drown, and I possessed no desire to go to my death in that dreadful fashion. So, after a brief prayer, I expeditiously began to follow the river, further away from where the Spaniards had made their camp.

  At long last, I found myself able to make out the faint glimmer where the water came against a bank on the other side. Feeling that time now gave me no choice but to cross, I took my quaking courage firmly in hand, and began to wade across the river. Good fortune smiled on me; the water at its deepest point reached but to my chest. Thus, dripping wet and shivering with utter cold, I emerged safely onto the bank that took me closer to safety and freedom.

  My good fortune continued: I soon came to a sleeping farmstead, and there I was able to steal a good horse, leaving behind more than his price in gold coin placed upon a tree stump in the field where I had found him.

  Thus, I began to escape now in earnest, making my way swiftly along the roadways I had travelled, tied on an army pack mule, the previous day. Dawn was now approaching, and still no one was in pursuit, thus I slowed the horse to a steady canter and headed to the west and the dominions of Ferrara, where I could begin to feel safe once again.

  By noon, my horse was completely spent, but I was able to exchange it for another mount in the town I had now reached. I was determined not to rest until I had arrived at the court of the Duke, and the men in this town assured me that I had not long to go before arriving there. Yea, even though it was beginning to grow dark when I saw the Duke’s palace, it seemed but a short moment before I was at the palace where the Duke resided.

  One of the first people to confront me, as is often the way of life, was none other than the lad who had been sent to accompany me on my travels. Carlos, cleaner and better dressed than I last remembered, greeted me first with great astonishment, but delight following next, and he took me fast to his lord. The Duke also appeared astonished at my quick escape, and told me the moves to free me that had taken place in my brief absence. As soon as he heard of my plight, my knight, the Duke informed me, had written to the Duc of Bourbon in an effort to gain my speedy deliverance. Indeed, even the Holy Father had commanded one of his officials to write and demand my release in the name of the papacy. I rested at the Duke’s court for divers days, and then decided it was time to return to Sir John. The experiences I had just lived through had quenched my desire to see any more of the countryside of Italy. Indeed, I just wanted our mission to be over and to make our way back to England, and home. Yea, home, even if it meant facing up to the problems I had left there.

  This time, the Duke sent two of his men in arms to accompany me back to Narni, commanding them to remain with the two Englishmen until their services where no longer needed. Sir John seemed very much recovered from his injury, and very relieved to see me and hear that I had been able to escape before a ransom needed to be paid. Sir John told me that we had one task left to do before we could begin our journey back to England. We must return to Rome and try yet again to persuade the Pope to stand strong and firm against the Emperor—despite what promises he had exchanged during this period of duress.

  ’Twas the end of April when we at length arrived back in Rome. The situation had become no better during our time away. It felt to me that events had come to such a pass that all out warfare could no longer be avoided.

  Soldiers, who had recently gathered to protect Rome, had just days before our arrival been sent away in disgrace. During their time in Rome, these soldiers had caused the inhabitants of the city such terror that only the brave had dared to walk the streets—even in full daylight. The Romans had breathed a sigh of relief to see the backs of these brutal men gone, but now Rome was left to whatever defences it alone could raise. This defence seemed half-hearted in many quarters. The Pope had lost much of his popularity through the harsh taxes imposed to combat the Emperor. In sooth, many Romans could see no difference between being under the thumb of the Vatican or the Imperialist government of the Emperor Charles.

  Loud rumour was now rife that the Duc de Bourbon had received word of this state of affairs, and was beginning to march his soldiers steadily toward Rome. Thus, those Romans who supported the papacy were now busily engaged in preparing themselves for the unavoidable battle that was looming before their frightened eyes.

  Indeed, within days of the arrival of Sir John and myself, Bourbon and his multitude of men began to make camp before the ancient walls of Rome. Within hours of their arrival, the sounds of savage battle began to vibrate throughout the streets of Rome.

  Sir John and I could do no more. Indeed, all that we could hope for was that we could escape from the city with our skins intact.

  The month of May, I thought, was becoming fast an unlucky time for me, but even more unlucky, this time, for the ancient city of Rome.

  Thus, escape we did, as the bells of Roma tolled out their panicked warning, though escape proved a difficult feat to achieve. Fog shrouded the lanes and streets of Rome, its series of dark, narrow, dust-filled alley ways twisting into a maze of courts and passages, dotted here and there, verily everywhere, by a church or fortress rising over our heads—emerging through thick fog—that hindered us at every turn. We, Sir John and myself, protected by the Italians by the Duke of Ferrara, desperately tried to make some sense of these bewildering and strange surroundings, hoping to be able to gain a quick way of escape. As good fortune would have it, one of the soldiers sent with us had been born in Rome. In sooth, without his help, I dread to think what our fate would have been. In the heat of battle, it serves no purpose to cry “immunity!”

  But God, and all his angels and saints, was on our side, and our good fortune held out. In the heat of battle there is also much confusion; thus, we were able to leave the poor city of Rome to its dreadful fate, and begin to make our long way back to England.

  Book Four

  “The chances most unhappy

  That me betide in May!”

  CONTENTS

  * * *

  Chapter 1

  J
uly 1528

  “In thin array after pleasant guise,

  when her loose gown from shoulders did fall.”

  ’Twas during the time Anne lay ill at Hever Castle that I returned again to our childhood home—greatly disenchanted with my life. I had come home to discover my wife, Bess, in bed with another of her base lovers. I dragged him out of my bed, pushed him out the room, and returned to my wife to engage her in the most horrible quarrel—the worst of our marriage.

  This time my usually restrained anger let loose, with the grave consequence I came away from her leaving her bruised, battered, and promising to make my life more miserable. And me? What did I feel? God’s oath! My anger terrified me. I had never lain a hand on Bess in violence before, and I felt horrified to see what my anger had done. And I also knew only the lucky arrival in the room of our daughter (is she my daughter—how am I truly to ever know?) prevented me slipping into a more murderous rage when I confronted Bess. ’Twas enough to give me reason and cause to think for a very long time. Thus, not wanting to remain under the same roof as Elizabeth, I picked up my still unpacked travelling bags, got on my horse, and rode swiftly to Hever.

  I had heard news of Anna from George, who I had seen days before at a London tavern. Anna had, only a short time ago, been sent away from court because the King feared her illness could be the plague or the sweating sickness and thus wished to protect himself from contagion. I, who truly loved her, felt afraid for her and resolved to be with her at this time. The discord I had left at my house only increased my determination to see Anna and make some attempt to renew myself in her presence.

  With my heart so heavy, I found it strange to ride my horse up those same tracks and lanes that had seen us running wild as children. I had only infrequently visited Hever Castle since I was sent to Cambridge University when I was thirteen. Now in my twenty-fifth year, I could not help but feel that I had lived through so much since the time of my boyhood that I had become utterly world-weary since those happier and simpler times.