Rebellion's Message Read online

  I was startled when the door opened and Bill came in again.

  ‘Well, we know a little more now,’ he said.

  ‘Are they still hunting me?’

  ‘In the city, yes. But no one seems to have known who you were, so you’re safe enough for now, I think.’ He eyed me bleakly. ‘But it is not good news for you. The fellow who died was called David of Exeter, apparently. He was servant to some family from the West Country: the Carews or somesuch.’

  ‘I’ve never heard of them.’

  He shrugged. ‘A thief will not often know the name of his victim, will he? But the rebellion in Kent – that is not the only one, is it? There’re many others elsewhere, if the stories are true.’

  ‘But the Kentish rebellion is the only one remaining. The others have all been crushed, haven’t they?’

  They had. The fighting in the rest of the country was snuffed out before it could take hold. Spies had discovered the conspiracy, it was said. The government was so efficient that the rebels had been defeated almost before they could gather, to the benefit of all. A country ignited by the flames of rebellion was not a safe country for anyone.

  He looked at me. ‘Yes. But the man who started the rebellion in Devon was a man called Carew.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, really, and if that is so, what was his servant doing here, do you think?’

  ‘Perhaps he was coming to … I don’t know!’

  ‘It’s likely he was bringing a message to someone, isn’t it? Perhaps he had a message – something to tell his co-conspirators, something to do with the rebellion?’

  The import of his words struck me. That strange piece of parchment must contain a coded message. I had no idea to whom it was addressed, of course, but if there was a rebellion, and men thought I had hurt one of their messengers, the rebels would want revenge. Not that it was likely. ‘There’s only one rebellion continuing, isn’t there? That’ll soon be crushed. We saw the army march.’

  ‘Yes. You are probably enormously lucky,’ Bill said.

  Yes, I thought. The army would crush the rebellion, and soon the whole matter would be forgotten. There was nothing for me to worry about.

  It was already growing dark when the others began to return. Gil was drunk, as usual, and demanded beer as soon as he arrived. He grabbed my costrel and shook it, throwing it at my head when he realized it was empty. I had to catch it quickly before it could hit the floor. So often the leather on a cheap costrel has been cooked too long and will shatter if dropped. Moll and Wat turned up a little after him, and Gil tried to make Wat give him some drink, but Moll got in his way and he backed down with bad grace, shoving me from his path as he went to lie down. He wouldn’t want to stir Moll. If she were to go and complain to Bill, he would suffer, and he knew that.

  Bill was there as the first men of the watch made themselves heard.

  It was strange that throughout the day the only noise in the area was the shouting of men, the rumble of barrels, the steady wash of the waves on the wharves, the snuffling of a few pigs, the squawking of chickens and the constant creaking of timbers and hempen cordage as ships and barges passed by. At night, all those sounds gradually dissipated and were replaced by occasional barking dogs, men singing, shouts and, every now and then, a baby bawling its head off from the place over the lane where a maidservant had been comforting her master too well and too vigorously.

  After some food, I sat on the floor and covered my face, wondering what would become of me. Moll saw my despondence and tried to get me to talk.

  ‘You’ll be all right,’ she said. She walked over and sat beside me. ‘The watch will look around for a while, but they’ll soon lose interest. How many bodies are found every week, and the murderer never found?’

  I knew she was right. ‘But I want to find the man who did that. He tried to see me killed.’

  ‘I doubt that. You were knocked down, but he didn’t kill you, this murderer,’ she said earnestly.

  ‘Stabbing the man with my dagger and putting it into my hand – that wasn’t supposed to see me hanged in his place?’

  ‘Perhaps it was just a panicked act? He probably didn’t think anyone would consider you a likely murderer.’

  I was irritated by that. It sounded as though she thought I was so feeble-looking that no one would think me capable. Then she smiled sympathetically and glanced across at Bill. I thought then she was trying to lift my mood and was worried that he could read too much into our quiet chat. No matter! I was in no mood to listen. She was a woman and couldn’t understand this sort of violence. She had no idea how it felt to have been placed in such a position, and in a while she grew exasperated with my grumpiness and rejoined the others about our little fire.

  ‘The Duke of Norfolk was leading the Whitecoats,’ Wat said.

  Bill snorted. ‘Him? He must be eighty if he’s a day.’

  ‘He’s the queen’s most trusted commander,’ Wat said.

  Gil chuckled roughly. ‘Most trusted? The only one she’d trust, more like.’

  ‘If she thinks he will be vigorous enough to stop a man like Wyatt at the head of five thousand men,’ Bill said, ‘she’s going to get a nasty surprise, I reckon.’

  ‘The rebels will fail against real soldiers,’ Wat said confidently.

  ‘You think so? Everywhere they go, they win more friends and allies,’ Gil said with a sneer in his voice. ‘The Whitecoats are marching on Rochester, but when they get there, they’ll be cold, tired and inclined not to fight the people, you can be sure of it.’

  ‘You seem to know a lot about these people,’ Bill said.

  ‘I had a talk with three men in a tavern, and they knew a lot about it.’

  ‘Who?’ Bill said.

  ‘I don’t know. They were just men in a tavern. You know how it is.’

  ‘Yes. I do. To go and drink in a tavern, you need money. But I haven’t given you any,’ Bill said.

  ‘I have money of my own sometimes,’ Gil said. There was an edge to his voice that I heard clearly as a threat. I looked up to watch.

  ‘We all share and share alike,’ Bill said, which wasn’t strictly true. We shared, and he took the lion’s portion. But he was our banker, and we all knew it was to our benefit.

  ‘Yes, and I keep some by,’ Gil said.

  It was so fast that I almost leaped from my skin and rapped my skull on the ceiling. Bill sprang up, leaped over the fire and caught Gill a blow across the face that sent him sprawling. In his half-drunk state, he could not defend himself as Bill kicked him four times swiftly in the belly, before lifting him and holding a fist to his face. ‘You want some more? If you want to stay here with us, you’ll have to learn a little more respect!’

  ‘All right,’ Gil said, his eyes averted.

  ‘Where’s the rest of it?’

  ‘I don’t have any.’

  ‘Give me your purse.’

  Gil reluctantly removed it from his belt and Bill took it, weighing it in his hand. Then he looked down. ‘This isn’t yours,’ he said. ‘It’s the one Jack stole.’

  ‘I liked it,’ Gil said.

  ‘Make sure you aren’t seen with it. You spent all your money?’

  ‘I hardly had to. The men all bought me wine. They had been gambling in the cockpits – cleaned out the house, they said. They were all three buying drinks for me and others. I stayed with them while they were throwing their coins around. Who wouldn’t?’

  ‘Three of them?’ I asked.

  ‘What of it?’ Gil snapped.

  ‘Did one of them wear a wide-brimmed hat that concealed his face?’ I asked, struck by a horrible suspicion. You don’t survive as a felon for long without learning to doubt the nature of coincidence. Those who lose the critical facility to wonder about men who suddenly appear and buy drinks for strangers often find that their life can become foreshortened.

  ‘What of it?’

  I sat up and stared at Bill. ‘It’s the man from the tavern.’

 
; ‘Did you tell them where we live?’ Bill demanded.

  Gil shook his head. ‘You think I’m soft in the head like Jack? I wouldn’t tell anyone where we live.’

  But later, when I glanced at him, I saw his eyes slide away from me. There was something in them. Naked greed, I thought. If someone were to offer him money to hear of my whereabouts, I didn’t doubt that for a single silver penny he’d sell me and his own mother as a job lot.

  NINE

  Monday 29th January

  The next day, Monday, the others rose as usual with the dawn. Or near to it. Bill and Moll were awake, but clearly had no intention of getting out from beneath their blankets for quite a while, such was the giggling and wriggling that was going on. I averted my eyes, trying to dispose of the jealousy that threatened to engulf me. Wat was already awake and chewing at a piece of dried bread, blowing unenthusiastically at the coals in an attempt to light the fire, but his tinder was too thin and the cinders wouldn’t catch the flame. In the end, I pushed him aside and broke some small twigs to lay it afresh. Before long, I had some charcloth smouldering and a small flame was soon igniting some shavings. Gil, meanwhile, rose like a bear with a sore head, and hawked and spat, narrowly missing me.

  I wouldn’t react to his ill humour. It was pointless. If he wanted to beat me to a pulp, there was little I’d be able to do to defend myself. Bill could launch himself at the idle git, but if I tried a similar thing, I’d end up sprawling and then be beaten still more furiously. No, I would do better to ignore him.

  He had the purse I had pinched, I noticed. It looked entirely out of place on his belt. It was too bright and richly decorated for a man with such faded britches and worn jack. Not that it was my concern. I rather hoped he would be seen. Perhaps someone who knew the dead man, and who would think Gil must have been the killer. That would let me off the hook. Until he pointed the finger at me. Knowing my luck, everyone would assume he was telling the truth, and either hang me or hang us both as irrelevant nuisances.

  Bill was eventually finished, and while Moll lay back contentedly, he rose and dressed himself, hunkering down beside me. He put his arm over my shoulders, which came as a surprise, and spoke almost kindly.

  ‘Jack, you’re a good lad. You understand you have to stay here hidden, right? Don’t go into the street while the folks are looking for you. If you do, you’ll be an easy target. Keep to the house and you’ll be safe.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can learn about this man who was so friendly with Ann.’

  ‘What of the other three? The man with the wide-brimmed hat and his friends?’

  ‘They showed bleeding poor taste, wasting their money filling Gil with beer and wine, but apart from that I don’t see that they come into this. They just happened to be in the tavern.’

  ‘In two taverns. It’s strange that the same men should appear in both taverns.’

  ‘If they were the same three men,’ Bill pointed out. ‘Don’t go thinking that every fellow with a wide-brimmed hat must be the same man. There are enough men who wear hats like that in London.’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘You stay here, keep away from beadles and constables, and it’ll soon blow over, I expect.’

  Bill patted my back, and then called to Wat and Gil. ‘Come on, lads. Time to get to work.’

  I watched them enviously as they trooped from the door. They would be going to church later. Bill liked to visit St Paul’s, while Gil and Wat had a liking for St Mary Magdalene’s and St Augustine’s. All tended to have full congregations during Mass, and the opportunities for filching a purse were excellent. I just wished I could go with them.

  Moll stretched like a cat as the three shuffled their way to the door. Bill peered out, and then they were gone.

  ‘Well?’ Moll said.

  ‘Eh?’ I shot her a look, and I must have reddened like a fresh beetroot from the thoughts that flashed through my head.

  ‘Are you going to do as he said?’ she asked, and then caught sight of my expression, I suppose, because she lifted the blanket up over her breast and gave me a disapproving look.

  ‘I … er … yes, I suppose so,’ I said. But at that moment the only thing I was certain of was that I had to get out before my attraction to her became any more obvious. ‘Um,’ I said. ‘I’ll be back later.’

  ‘Why are you going? And where?’

  At that moment I wasn’t sure I could respond without embarrassment. I stood at the doorway and stared out. From here, the hill rose before me: Ludgate. It was a rising mass of shingled roofs, and in the early morning sun the smoke rose from a thousand hearths, mingling with the steam as the sun warmed the hoar frost.

  I couldn’t stay there alone with Moll. She was a temptation too far. I would inevitably have to say something that would make life impossible for both of us. No, I would have to go and cool down somewhere. It was impossible to go into the city after Bill’s warning, so I chose the other path and wandered down to the river. I sat, dangling my legs over the wharf, chilling my buttocks on the freezing boards, watching the ships passing by. Every now and again a wherry would float past, and a stream of rich curses would be hurled in my direction; one bit his thumb at me; other sailors on their ships would wave or make obscene gestures, depending on their mood. The attitude of sailors to landsmen never ceased to amaze me. They all seemed to think that the fact of their living or working on water gave them some kind of advantage over ordinary men, that they could take the piss on a whim.

  It left me feeling distinctly bitter. The whole world seemed to be taking the piss out of me, as far as I was concerned. I just hoped that the news of the murder would soon die down, so that I could go about my business same as usual. After all, it was all so unreasonable! No one who knew me would think I would risk the rope. Not for a purse.

  Who was the dead man? He was just a scruffy-looking fellow, when all was said and done. He was a pain, too – that was sure. I wished I’d never caught sight of him. I wanted only to get back to my work. I’d need new clothes first, though. Looking down at my comfortable jack and britches, it was clear that, while I continued to wear them, any description passed around by Ann’s ‘Henry’ would be bound to come back to me. London was a vast city, but not so vast that a man like me would go unnoticed around Ludgate. I was plainly not a rich man, and my height and appearance would be broadcast by now. What was I to do?

  By the time I returned to the house, it was gone noon, and Moll had left. I sullenly stared inside, feeling very hard done by. It seemed that even she had deserted me. I was all alone in the world. Perhaps they were all gone, never to return. That would be typical.

  Hearing steps, I turned to see Gil swaggering down the lane. Behind him, I saw three men. One wore a broad-brimmed hat.

  TEN

  In the time it took me to recognize the man from the tavern, I realized that Gil had betrayed me. Quick as a kingfisher, I sprang down the stairs before either man could see me, and was out on the wharf, hiding behind a stack of barrels, hoping to attract the attention of a wherryman so I could cross the river, but there were only three I could see: two with passengers, and the one who had bitten his thumb at me earlier. I tried waving surreptitiously, but there was no response. I waved again, and this time I was sure that he had seen me, but he chose to pretend he hadn’t. He was moored alongside a great anchored barge and was eating a pie or something. Clearly, the man had such a small brain that he could not concentrate on his meal and a desperate passenger at the same time.

  Glancing around towards the house, I could hear Gil arguing with his friend, but the words were lost in the swirl and slap of the water beneath me. A dead hound floated past, and I stared at it, wondering how long it would be before I was thrown into the water and floating away alongside him. He rolled over as he was caught by a current, and his paws waved at me as though in welcome.

  At last the wherryman seemed to finish his meal and began to row towards me. I waited with bated breath,
hoping that the fellow was coming to me at last, but before he reached the shore, I heard the voices grow louder. The waterman had his back to me now, pulling strongly for the shore, and although I waved and hissed frantically like an enraged swan, the black-hearted bastard didn’t once turn around.

  Steps were coming closer. In desperation I fled, hurrying along the wharf to the farther side of the house. From there I ran back to Trig Lane itself and stood for a moment, wondering what to do. There was the sound of shouting, and when I bent my attention back towards the river, I was sure that it was the wherryman bellowing insults at me for disappearing. No doubt by suppertime the fool would have persuaded himself that I was a ghost, and he would sink into his cups with the conviction that he had narrowly escaped the devil’s wiles. These sailormen are notoriously superstitious.

  There was no place of concealment here. I crossed over Trig Lane and into the yard of the house opposite. There I heard the mewling of a child and realized it was the very house where the incontinent maid had produced a bastard for her master of the house. She was there, in the yard, and I quickly darted inside. The child was in a small cot near the door. I hurried to it and was almost there before I realized the mother was only yards away.

  She gave a start, plainly thinking me a thief, but I tried to convince her, by smiling and bobbing my head, that I knew how to soothe her babe. I took it up, holding it at arm’s length, and studied it. It studied me. I essayed a small smile. It still studied me with intense seriousness. I smiled more broadly, and the child opened its mouth to its fullest extent and then let blast such a clarion call of horror that I all but dropped the brute. A hound began to bay, and the maid began to wail, and I hurriedly placed it back in its mother’s arms and ran back the way I had come before the hound could find me.

  I was in Trig Lane once more, and as I glanced back at the house, I saw the man with the broad-brimmed hat talking to Gil. But then I saw them turn, and all at once they saw me.