The Traitor’s Mark (32 page)

‘Well, that wasn't much of a fight,' the captain observed with a smile. ‘I thought you said this Black Harry was a fierce opponent.'

I looked at our surly captives. ‘But he isn't here,' I said. ‘Are you sure you've found all of them?'

‘I've got two men searching the place thoroughly but we haven't seen anyone else.'

I went over to one of the villains and prodded him with my boot. ‘Where's your leader?' I demanded. ‘Where's Harry?'

The man gave a black-toothed grin. ‘Miles away. You'll never catch him. He's much too clever for you.'

The man's arrogance set a match to the cannon of my anger. The feelings I had held in check for the last hour exploded within me. I turned to the captain. ‘A sword please, if I may.'

With some reluctance he drew his hand-and-a-half blade and passed it to me. I wrapped my fingers round the hilt and felt the weapon's precise balance.

‘Master Treviot!' The captain laid a hand on my arm.

‘No, don't try to stop me. I've come too far and suffered too much to be balked now by dunghill flies like these. One of them is going to give me the information I want – or remain silent for ever. I walked along the row, prodding each prisoner with the sword's point. ‘Which of you cowardly lorrels is going to tell me where Black Harry has gone?'

A stocky man with a scar across one cheek was the first to reply – but not with the answer I wanted.

He glared sullenly. ‘Call us cowards, do you? Standing there threatening men who can't fight back.'

‘Cowards I call you and cowards you are!' I shouted. ‘You murder women and children and peaceable priests.' Images flashed through my mind of good people wantonly, brutally, mercilessly attacked by this fellow – Holbein, his children, van der Goes, and Adie, especially Adie lying now at the point of death. Even with a sword point in his belly, the wretch showed no trace of remorse or even fear. He lay there snarling like a cornered rat, and his arrogance fuelled my rage. For the first time in my life I felt bloodlust – and it tasted good. If it had been Black Harry sprawled on the floor at my mercy I would have thrust the sword through him without a further thought. As it was I leaned forward and the sharp point pierced the leather jerkin.

Now he squealed.

‘Master Thomas!'

I heard Walt's anxious voice and waved aside his unspoken protest. Fortunately, my fury had not taken complete possession. The corner of my mind that was still functioning calmly reminded me I wanted information, not vengeance.

‘Where is Black Harry?' I lifted the sword and held it, with both hands, about twelve inches above the man's body. ‘No? In that case ...' I brought the sword down. It pierced the flesh of his upper leg, pinning it to the floor.

‘Stop!'he screeched, writhing in agony.

‘I didn't quite catch your answer.' I tugged the blade free and moved its point to a spot just above the villain's heart.

‘I daren't,' he squealed. ‘No one betrays Black Harry.'

‘You'd rather die for him, then? Very well.'

‘Don't!' he cried, ‘You can't! You wouldn't! Captain, call the madman off!'

‘You're quite right,' I replied. ‘Normally I wouldn't kill you. But today I'm not feeling normal. I've been driven out of my wits by a coven of bestial hellhounds who beat to death a young man in Aldgate, and took small children hostage, and left them to starve to death, and murdered their father, and burned down a priest's house, killing everyone in it, ravished a defenceless woman and drove her to take her own life, and committed I know not what other inhuman acts. So, today, yes I would do something that, at any other time, I would regard as beneath contempt. I would kill a defenceless, squirming creature who doesn't deserve the dignity of being called a man.' It was no less than the truth. In those moments I was not myself. I had descended to the level of the men I despised.

‘Stop!' he cried. ‘In the name of God, I beg you. We only did what the other man paid us to do. It's him you want.'

‘Oh, I'll get round to him in good time. For the moment I'm only interested in the whereabouts of the villain who has brought you to within seconds of death.'

My victim rolled on to his side, trying to squirm away from my weapon. I simply moved its point to his throat.

‘Harry's taking the prisoners to the man that pays us,' he blurted out.

‘And where does he live?'

‘Over the river. Essex.'

‘Fletcham?'

‘Yes!' he cried eagerly.

I stepped back. ‘At last!' I returned the sword to its owner. ‘At last we have the breakthrough we need.' I realised I was sweating and trembling.

‘You know this Fletcham place?' the captain asked.

‘Yes. Now if we act quickly, we can haul in all our fish in one net.'

‘First we must get these securely locked up.'

We pulled three of the men to their feet.

‘What about this fellow?' The captain indicated the wounded man.

‘The cut looks worse than it is,' I said. ‘We'll tend it when we get back to Hadbourne.'

We collected the horses from Bart, who was very disgruntled at having been excluded from the action.

‘You missed little,' I said. ‘Black Harry has already gone. But we are on his trail now.'

‘Promise me that I'll be there when you find him.'

‘I promise you. That is a meeting I would not miss for all the world.'

We tied our captives across their horses and jogged back to Hadbourne, where our prisoners were locked up with the others detained by the commission and awaiting their onward journey to Canterbury.

Morice was eager to know what had happened at Swansford but my only thoughts were now for Adie. My report was brief. ‘I'll come back tomorrow,' I promised. ‘We have to organise our trip to Fletcham to arrest Black Harry.'

As I made my way homeward with my companions none of us spoke much. I was exhausted and I knew we were all dreading what we might find at Hemmings. And beyond that lay what I earnestly prayed would be the end of this affair.

Chapter 24

I went straight to Adie's room. The inert form on the bed seemed unchanged and a servant was patiently applying damp cloths to her brow.

‘How is she?'I asked.

‘She still has the great heat, Master, but she sometimes tries to speak – nothing that makes any sense; more like murmuring than talking. Master Longbourne has got her to swallow something and it seems to have eased her.'

‘Is that what I can smell?' I had noticed a sickly odour as soon as I entered the chamber.

‘Yes, Master, some got spilled on the covers.'

I sat on the bed and took Adie's limp hand in mine. ‘Adie, 'tis me, Thomas, Thomas Treviot. How do you fare, my dear?'

Eyelids flickered. Lips slightly parted. But if she wanted to speak she lacked the energy and her face reposed into a calm, devoid of all expression.

I tried to find words for the situation, words that might be more efficacious-than Ned's nostrums. The only ones I could voice were, ‘Dear Adie, don't leave us. Everyone here loves you.'

‘Where is Master Longbourne?' I asked, as I stood up.

‘In his chamber, Master. He looks fair worn out. He's been here hours and hours. Mistress Lizzie had to drag him away and make him rest.'

I entered Ned's room and saw him stretched on the bed, fully clothed. A candle almost burned down stood on the chest beside him and one hand still held an open book. I turned to leave quietly but, as I did so, Ned stirred.

‘Is that you, Thomas?' He struggled into a sitting position. ‘Did you find the villains?'

‘We found their lair but the archvillain was gone.'

‘Slippery as an eel – or perhaps “serpent” would be a better analogy. I've been praying for him.'

‘Praying?' I scoffed. ‘He merits flaying, not praying.'

‘The meanest wretch is not beyond God's mercy – else where would any of us be? Now, I must go and look to Adie.'

I put my hand on his shoulder. ‘Sit awhile. We don't want you falling ill as well. What can you tell me of the patient?'

‘The next few hours will be crucial. If the fever breaks she
will recover. If not ...' He shook his head. ‘I was able to get powdered Norwegian angelica from the Tonbridge apothecary. He is certainly well skilled; few people know its properties. I'm afraid I made a nuisance of myself in the kitchen. I had to make up some sort of distilling apparatus to make pure water from vapour. That dispels any injurious elements that may have penetrated it. With that I made up angelica water and got Adie to drink some.'

‘Was that the sweet odour I noticed in her room?'

‘Yes, 'tis the best herb I know for her condition. It grows only on riverbanks and draws out moist humours.' He glanced up with one of his knowing smiles. ‘You are more than usually concerned for this young lady.'

‘Her plight feeds my anger. I will punish Black Harry for the anguish he inflicts on all his victims, even if I have to hunt him for the rest of my life. But if he should swing and Adie still die I would feel as though he had won.'

Ned stood and stretched his back. ‘Well, she is young and strong and that is enormously in her favour. Any simples or other treatments we physicians apply don't really do anything.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Merely that they are only aids. The body heals itself – if it wants to.'

‘You still think Adie might will herself to die?'

‘I think that once the fever has broken she will need another kind of medicine, one that lies well beyond my
poor skills. We must all – and you especially – make her want to live. And now, you must excuse me. I have a patient to tend.'

The following morning I returned to Hadbourne. I needed to find Morice before he moved on to Maidstone with Legh's cavalcade. The house was a scene of considerable activity as the clergy of the region came and went to kneel before the fat lawyer and make their formal submission.

‘Is everything going well?' I asked, as we sat outside on a bench, enjoying the warmth of an autumn sun.

‘Oh, yes. We've packed off a wagonload of troublemakers to Canterbury jail and yesterday in all the churches the clergy either preached on the royal supremacy or read statements affirming it.'

‘Legh has proved his worth, then.'

‘Certainly. Before he came we were only firing arrows against our enemies. Legh is a cannon by comparison, and has thoroughly breached their fortifications. Several little conspiracies have come to light that we were ignorant of before. Life is going to become very difficult for his grace's enemies in Canterbury when we have compiled all the evidence into a report to set before the king. The guard captain tells me you had quite a productive day at Swansford.'

‘Yes, we didn't lay our hands on the leader but as I've thought about it I've come to the conclusion that it is to our advantage that he's still at liberty.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Black Harry has gone to Fletcham and he's taken the priests, Horton and Garrow, with him. That can only be for the purpose of extracting confessions of heresy from them. Presumably Brooke, the arch-conspirator, will take charge of the interrogation. With any luck, we can catch them together. We might even be able to gather proof of their own little Inquisition. Connecting Brooke with a gang of convicted felons will strike right at the heart of the conspiracy against his grace.'

‘How would you like to proceed?'

‘Much as we did at Swansford; an assault by the archbishop's armed guard.'

Morice shook his head. ‘That could be difficult – perhaps impossible.'

‘Why?'

‘His grace has no direct authority there. He would have to confer with the Bishop of London.'

‘There's no time for such episcopal niceties!' I exclaimed. ‘Within a few days, news will reach Fletcham that we've rounded up some of Brooke's criminal henchmen. Then he is sure to run. And I wouldn't take any wagers on the survival of his prisoners. Our only chance of complete success is surprise. We must go to Fletcham tomorrow.'

‘Yes, I understand that; I really do.' Morice's brow creased in a deep frown of frustration. ‘But I don't have the authority to sanction it, and I know very well what the
archbishop's reaction will be. He'll demand time to think about it. Then, because he's a stickler for correct procedure, he'll ask for cooperation from Bishop Bonner, and we know what Bonner's reaction will be.'

‘Yes, I was in St Paul's Yard last year when his men raided the bookstalls and went on to smash the presses of printers the bishop suspected of publishing heresy.'

‘At the best he'd create delay. At the worst he'd get news to Norfolk or Chapuys that their game was up.'

‘So you're saying we can do nothing without his grace's permission and if we wait for his grace's permission we might as well do nothing. That will mean letting Brooke compile his evidence unhindered. It seems to me that someone needs to protect his grace against his grace.'

‘It wouldn't be the first time,' Morice muttered.

‘Could we not “borrow” some of the archiepiscopal guard for a couple of days?'

‘If we did that and the operation failed we'd be in terrible trouble.'

‘If we do nothing we're in trouble anyway –
and so is the archbishop
,' I almost shouted. ‘You politicians can always find reasons for doing nothing! Mary and all the saints. Does it take a simple merchant to show you what must be done?'

‘Let me think! Let me think!' Morice walked a few steps along the terrace and stood staring out towards the orchard. It was several minutes before he came back to where I sat.
‘It's all a question of timing,' he said. ‘The evidence the commission is collecting is damning. When my report goes to his majesty, he'll understand just how serious the campaign against the archbishop is.'