Wolf Wood (Part Two): The Dangerous years (12 page)

Robin dashed forward, protesting that the Staffords were friends of the common people and should be spared. A blow from William sent him to the ground. By the time he got up, the Stafford brothers were belching blood and gasping out their last breaths.

A hand pulled him into the ranks of the men of Kent. He recognised one of the sheriffs who had welcomed him at Blackheath two days before. 'We're leaving,' the man said. 'I advise you to come with us.'

***

The lawns of the Palace of Westminster were packed with wagons. Strips of tarpaulin stretched between them to provide shelter for troops who had fled London. The bulk of the royal army had mutinied when they heard of the defeat at Sevenoaks and had declared themselves Cade's men. Those who had come to Westminster were intent on protecting their king. But Henry and his French wife had fled to Greenwich.

Alice walked amongst the women with Harald and a clerk, trying to bring order to the chaos. Robin was with Commander Gough, questioning the men in an attempt to weed out infiltrators.

The commander had joined them from London. It wasn't safe there. The mutinous troops were going from house to house in search of "traitors" and anyone who supported King Henry was a target. The houses of the great and famous were being ransacked and people murdered.

A hand tugged at Alice's sleeve.

'Mother. There's a man looking for father.'

Steven was standing behind her with a loaded crossbow and a sword that was too big for him. The palace was littered with arms discarded by fleeing guards. Steven and his young friends had acquired an impressive collection. Alice had given up trying to stop him. Her son had vowed to kill anyone who tried to rape her and she didn't doubt he meant it. Steven was growing up fast.

He pointed to a man dressed as a porter.

'I think he's a spy.'

The man was standing between two guards and looked uncomfortable. Alice surveyed his fragile frame and had difficulty imagining him carrying heavy loads. His complexion didn't fit either. Porters were usually ruddy faced. This man looked as if he spent most of his life indoors.

'Sir Harald. Is that you?'

He caught sight of her husband.

'Pray. Come and vouch for me. I do fear for my life.'

The man didn't speak like a porter either. Alice guessed he was a lawyer or churchman. Harald went across. He seemed amused by the man's appearance.

'Sir Geoffrey. Have you changed you profession? You were an inquisitor for the late Cardinal Beaufort when we last met. It seems that you have turned your talents to a different trade.'

'I was obliged to attire myself in this garb to escape the mob, Sir Harald. There has been a most appalling catastrophe.'

'Tell me all about it.'

Harald assumed an inquisitorial tone and the man squirmed. Alice sensed that their past relationship had been far from harmonious.

'I have just come from Blackheath.'

He spoke as if that would explain everything.

'Go on.'

'You surely know.'

'Tell us everything, Sir Geoffrey, or I shall instruct the guard to cast you in irons.' Harald bore down on him. 'I require every detail and if you again say
“you surely know”,
I shall assume that you are a spy and fishing for information.'

He turned to the escort.

'Take him to the guardhouse. I shall continue my questioning there.'

Steven watched them go.

'What did I tell you?' He turned to his mother. 'I said he was a spy. Father knows what to do to him.'

***

The guardhouse was next to the suite of rooms where Harald had been questioned nine years earlier. There was a strange irony in the turn of events. One of his inquisitors had turned up, pleading for help. Did the man think he would acquiesce without getting something in return? He instructed the guard to stand by in an antechamber, ready to assist in the questioning, should that be needed. It was a veiled threat to use physical persuasion, should that be needed.

Sir Geoffrey had been one of the least subtle of his inquisitors and it seemed safe to assume that he would not be susceptible to subtle persuasion. Harald sat down at a table and glared at him.

'You were telling me about Blackheath.'

'The remnants of the royal army were camped there, Sir Harald. His Majesty went down to address them. We thought his presence would restore the men to his allegiance. But voices shouted out calling for the arrest of his advisers, saying we were traitors who had sold England to the French. Others joined in and His Majesty was greatly alarmed.'

Sir Geoffrey paused for breath.

'Go on.'

'His Majesty acquiesced to their demands, Sir Harald, and ordered the immediate arrest of Lord Say and Sheriff Crowmer. Say has been assigned to the Tower and Crowmer to Fleet Prison.'

'Did Lord Say go to the Tower as a prisoner or as a refugee needing protection?'

'His Majesty made it clear that he is a prisoner.'

'I am not asking about His Majesty,' Harald leant forward and grimaced. 'I am seeking your opinion.'

'I think it likely that he went for protection.'

'Who else has taken refuge in the Tower?'

'The Archbishop of Canterbury and most of the Council, Sir Harald.'

'And what of His Majesty?'

'King Henry has issued a proclamation saying that all traitors will be arrested and he's agreed to set up a commission whose members will be instructed to bring justice against extortioners, corrupt advisers and officials accused in such terms by Cade and the men of Kent.'

Harald made copious notes on his wax tablet.

'Do you class yourself as one of these persons?'

'I have been so named.'

Harald rocked back on his bench and smiled.

'And you have come here to destroy the evidence?'

'The Westminster archives contain many documents that could be construed as incriminating, if they fell into the wrong hands, Sir Harald.'

'And you know where to find them?'

'I believe I could locate all the documents relating to your unfortunate arrest and the unjust accusations of witchcraft brought against your dear wife.'

Harald picked up his stylus and used the blunt end to smooth the wax on his writing block and destroy the notes he had taken. He did it with a flourish and snapped the block shut.

'Come with me, Sir Geoffrey. I shall request more suitable attire for you. Then I shall take you to the archives and see what you can find there.'

Kiss of Death

June 25th 1450

Steven dashed into the women's dormitory and shouted for Henriette. The women told him to leave but he ignored their protests and continued to shout.

'Commander Gough wants Robin.'

Alice emerged from behind a partition.

'You father will know where he is.'

'No. It's he who sent me. The king's coming. Robin's got to get his men together. They've got to look smart.'

Alice ran into the corridor and looked down into the ablution block. Robin's little boy had a stomach upset and she guessed he was there. She shouted and Robin appeared.

'The king's coming. Harald needs to speak to you.'

Robin ran up the stairs, handed her a smelly infant and hurried outside. She moved to the doorway and heard the two men talking. Harald said the king was coming up river from Greenwich with his bodyguard. The royal party would land at the palace then proceed overland to a secret destination. All necessary assistance must be provided.

She returned to the dormitory and told the women to get ready to greet His Majesty. Despite all the accusations of corruption, the royal family was still held in awe. People preferred to think of their weak, twenty-nine-year-old monarch as a saintly figure ensnared by evil councillors. They were probably right but that did nothing to soften Alice's feelings towards the monarchy.

She remained opposed to the whole system of government and passionately hoped that Jack Cade would bring about the changes he promised. She did not share Harald's pessimism. She believed that England was ready for rule by elected councillors and would be a better place for it.

Cheering told her that the royal party had arrived. She walked to the palace gatehouse and found her son, Steven, there. He had been stopped by the guard and told that he could not proceed unless he left his crossbow with them. He reluctantly agreed and went to the river with Alice.

A motley array of soldiers was drawn up to greet the royal couple. Robin's contingent was amongst them. He stood at its head, smartly dressed in a discarded uniform that he had found in the palace when he arrived. It belonged to a senior officer of the royal guard who abandoned it when he fled. Harald said Robin had more right to the uniform than the former owner and Matthew Gough agreed.

An ornately decorated royal barge reached the jetty and the royal couple emerged. From the pomp and ceremony, one could believe they were on a royal excursion and not fleeing from their enemies. The queen appeared first. She embarked before the barge was properly secured and strode down the jetty with a step that was more masculine than ladylike.

Alice had heard about Queen Margaret. The formidable young woman was closely related to the French royal family and totally dominated her husband. When she arrived in England at the age of fifteen, Margaret spoke hardly a word of English. Now, five years later, she was proficient in the language and playing a leading role in the royal government.

She advanced towards the guard and began an inspection without waiting for her entourage to catch up. A man was reprimanded for his untidy appearance. Another was questioned on his right to certain insignia. Alice held her breath and waited for the explosion that would inevitably follow when Queen Margaret discovered Robin attired in the uniform of a senior member of the royal household.

Margaret arrived by his side and looked him up and down.

'Where do you come from?'

'Normandy, Your Highness.'

'Under whom did you serve?'

'Commander Matthew Gough, Your Highness.' Robin remained stiffly at attention. 'We held out in Bayeux until our position became untenable.'

'What is your name?'

'Robin Perry.'

'Ah.' An expression of recognition appeared on Margaret's severe face. 'You will be the Robin who tried to save poor Sir Humphrey Stafford at Sevenoaks. You were there as a secret agent for His Majesty. We have heard great things of you.'

She turned to the limp figure, standing behind her, and pointed to the sword that hung incongruously from the jewelled shoulder harness he wore over his royal robes.

'Henry, this is the Robin I told you about. You know what to do. It has all been discussed.'

The king drew the sword with some difficulty and advanced on Robin who seemed at a loss to know what to do. Then a voice gave the royal command.

'Kneel.'

The tip of the sword touch his shoulders and he received a second command.

'Arise, Sir Robin.'

In the crowd of cheering women, with Steven by her side, Alice sighed. A fleeing monarch, desperate for loyal supporters, had honoured Robin with a knighthood. It was something he could do without. In the wrong place and in the wrong company it would be less like an honour and more like a
kiss of death
.

***

Steven was desperate for a wee. The ablutions block was clogged and there was no chance of going behind a tree because there weren't any. His best chance was the privy next to his father's office in the administrative wing of the palace. It was reserved for staff but he wasn't going to let that get in his way. As Robin said:
desperate times call for desperate measures
.

He took a slip of paper from his pouch and presented it at the gate, saying he had to deliver it to his father. The gatekeepers knew him so they weren't greatly fussed. Nor did they bother to check where he went, which didn't matter because he only wanted a wee and wasn't planning to steal anything or assassinate anyone.

The privy stuck out from the palace wall. When you used it, anything that came out of you ended up in the Thames, which was a bit messy if you used it at low tide. Everything about it was very posh. You sat on a wooden seat, with a circular hole, and when you had finished there was a basin of water, complete with little squares of cloth, for you to wash your hands and other things.

Steven sat on the seat and was thinking about how the amenities could be further improved when he heard voices. His dad was speaking with Robin and they were discussing developments in London. Dad was using Robin's new title, calling him
Sir Robin
and making it sound like a joke. Dad said he would use it when he introduced him to the Lord Mayor of London.