A Queen's Spy, - [best books under 200 pages .txt] 📗

threat might prompt Dan to say more.

“Aye, well, it’s your choice,” was all Dan offered.

It was not the response Jack had wanted. “I thought you might have something to say.”

“Like what? You want me to persuade you to stay; to run and tell the Master? The world has more in it than the likes of you.” The big man left the table.

That went bloody badly.

Jack realised he was going to have to try a different tack. He didn’t much fancy asking Richard again. He had much more chance with Dan; he just needed to find the right approach. Jack’s thoughts were interrupted as Robby moved into Dan’s seat.

“I heard you’re leaving. Is that right?” Robby questioned quietly.

“Maybe.” Jack was in no mood for Robby’s company.

“Well don’t. Anyhow, not just yet, eh?” Robby’s words reminded Jack of his earlier conversation with the would-be plotter.

“Oh, aye, and Alan’s going to lead us,” Jack shot back.

Robby missed Jack’s sarcasm. “Aye, and soon. Alan says it’ll not be long now.”

Jack’s attention was riveted on Robby. “You’ve seen Alan then? I thought he was waiting at the village?”

“He came over last night to have a word with a couple of us,” Robby confided.

“You and Pierre, am I right?” Jack probed.

“Pierre, he’s with us I reckon.” Robby's head bobbed enthusiastically.

“So what’s Alan’s plan then?”

“Oh now, he said I couldn’t tell anyone. He only told me. All you need to know is that we’ll be rid of him bloody soon.” Robby sounded triumphant.

“I thought you were gone,” Mat called from the doorway.

Jack turned as Mat moved in and sat down. Robby had already slid down the bench away from Jack. “I was just going.” Jack stood moodily.

“What was up with him, eh?” Mat asked Robby when Jack had gone.

“Nothing that I know about.” Robby returned his attention to the platter in front of him.

Jack knew that the “something to do with London,” of Robby’s previous conversation was probably Harry, but how Alan had made the connection he didn’t know. He knew he should tell Richard.

But that would require talking to him.

 

†

 

It was not as easy as she had thought it would be. Standing on top of the stable partition, Catherine had thought she would be able to pull herself over the edge of the protruding platform. The distance was much greater than she had judged and she could just get her hands firmly around the edge of the wooden structure. She tried to pull herself up, getting half an elbow over the edge, but her feet swinging in mid-air above the stable partition could find nothing to push against. The dry wood forced splinters into her hands as she tried to pull her weight over the edge, but fear of falling into the dark stable below overcame the increasing discomfort in her hands as she heaved herself up, pausing for breath when she felt secure with one knee firmly on the planking.

The structure groaned under the new weight but it did not give way. Spreading her cloak out over the wood and arranging the straw around her, Catherine settled down to wait, laying flat on her stomach so she could peer easily down the length of the stables.

 

†

 

Richard’s mind was preoccupied with the puzzle of what fresh information he should send South to Derby as he walked slowly up the stone spiral steps from the hall to the corridor leading to his room. Had he walked faster, had he not paused before he pressed the door open, he would not have heard footsteps in the corridor on the other side of the door. Light footsteps that he at once recognized.

Judith.

His fingers had already pressured the door open an inch, gently he pulled them away and the door moved back silently and closed against the stone frame. With more speed that he had used during his ascent he dropped back down the steps. Edward had still been in the Hall when he had left, he hoped to find him still there when he returned. However, the high-backed chair that he had occupied was now empty.

He set foot out across the hall in the direction of the stable block and the bunk house on the end that Jack shared with the rest of the men. Light and noise seeped around the edges of the badly fitting door, and from inside he could hear the sound of singing. Jack’s voice was carrying the solo part and the rest of the men were joining in the chorus. Richard leant against the wooden wall and listened.

It was an old song, Good King Hal, older though than the last King, even though he had adopted it. The King went hunting and, separated from his men, he finds himself in a haunted hall and sets his wits against the witch he finds there. She sets him challenges, but each time the King outwits the crone. Jack certainly had the voice for the part, strong and melodious, and the listeners leant him silence, joining in only for the chorus.

Jack finished and received shouts of approval from the audience. Richard smiled slightly, he knew Jack well enough to know he would be declining their request to take up another song until they begged him sufficiently. Jack was never one to disappoint an audience. The noise from the men subsided and Richard correctly guessed Jack had accepted, however his choice of song did surprise him. “All and Forever,” was a song he had not heard for a long time. Indeed, he’d never even heard Jack sing it before.

Staring into the darkness he listened.

“If today was your last ever day

Would you turn and walk away…”

The tale told of a father dying and calling his sons to him one by one. For each he had a different message and a final farewell. The song went on, the lyrics melancholy, the voice clear and precise. Richard realised his shoulders had sagged when Jack reached the final verse when the old man passed away, grieving as his son’s set to fight each other even as he drew his last breath.

Groaning inwardly, Richard pushed himself away from the wooden wall, about to walk back to the hall when the door opened. Light spilled into the courtyard and Jack stepped through the doorway. Seeing Richard he frowned, then pushed the door closed behind him leaving them both in darkness once again.

“An interesting choice of song,” Richard said.

“I hardly thought you would be listening, did I?” Jack replied defensively.

“No, I suppose not.” Then he added thoughtfully, “It could be a truth though. All of us fighting after he dies.”

Jack watched his brother carefully. “Haven’t you told me repeatedly that if it is worth having it is worth fighting for?”

Richard laughed, “I’m not so sure that it would be worth fighting for, and Jack, I’m not in the mood for fighting with you tonight.”

Jack, cautious, changed the subject. “What are you doing out here anyway? Did you want me?”

“I’m hiding.”

“Hiding?” Jack repeated, sounding confused, then seeing the grin on Richard’s face he began to laugh. “You are hiding from a Byrne’s wife? Do you really fear women that much?”

“I fear that one! Christ she’s spent the whole evening staring at me. It would somewhat spoil our endeavour if it came to nothing because we were kicked from the door by a jealous husband.”

“You have a point,” Jack conceded. “Can’t you think of something to deter her?”

“How do you deter a love-sick girl?” Richard asked, exasperated. “If I upset her then the consequences could be just as unpleasant. We’ve not long left, for just a few days it is safer for me to just avoid her.”

“Aye, perhaps.”

“And your tasks?” Richard asked, Jack had spent the day making sure the men were ready.

“I’ve spoken to them all. They will be where you want them, God willing, in a day,” Jack replied, taking a step closer towards his brother.

“Well, hopefully not God willing. I would hate to trust this venture to a fatalistic hand or to God’s fickle will.” Richard paused, then added “Do you want to join me at Assingham tonight?”

“The meeting tonight? You want me to go?” Jack was a little surprised but pleased none the less.

Richard nodded confirmation. “And I apologise for my earlier behaviour.”

“Accepted,” Jack was relieved. “And as for tonight, you leave me little choice. To stay is to frustrate myself asking you questions which you will, for the sake of it, never answer.”

“That is exactly why I wish you to go, to save myself being hounded for morsels of information half the night. Anyway, you do me wrong.” Richard grinned at Jack. “I am most forthcoming, helpful, and amiable.”

Jack recognised the apology and, although surprised by it, grinned back. “And a bloody liar.” The he added, his voice sounding serious, “Richard, I think Alan is about to cause trouble amongst the men.”

“Alan is always causing trouble,” Richard replied, leading the way back across the yard to the main house.

“I think this time is different,” Jack said, stepping quickly to catch his brother by the arm.

“What has he done?” Richard asked, not sounding particularly interested.

“He’s planning on getting rid of you,” Jack said bluntly.

That did stop Richard, and he turned to face his brother. “It’s idle drunken talk, he’s full of it. Thank you for telling me Jack, but Alan just likes to hear the sound of his own voice.”

“I’m not so sure. I was talking to Robby, he’s siding with him,” Jack replied.

Richard laughed quietly, then said with sarcasm, “That is a coup to be worried about! Alan and Robby couldn’t get the upper hand in a card game. Thank you for telling me, but really can you see them doing anything but talk?”

When Richard put it like that Jack had to agree it sounded unlikely. “You are probably right.”

“Good, let’s see if we can get back to my room before Lady love spies us.” Richard said, setting his feet back onto the stone steps in the spiral stairwell he had descended earlier that evening.

Jack followed and a few moments later they were in Richard’s room. “It looks like you’ve missed your visitor,” Jack said, chuckling, as he remembered Richard ejecting Judith from his room some weeks ago while he had been stifling laughter and hiding behind the door.

“At least I'm not forced to part with coin," Richard replied, grinning maliciously.

“Go on, get your arse out of that window before I help you with a push.” Jack found himself berating an empty room, for his brother already vanished from sight. Tucking his gloves into his jacket front, Jack prepared to join him on the dark traverse.

 

†

 

Edward had been dead for a little less than a day. The young king’s body lay still in the royal bed, one hand flung behind the pillowed head and the other resting palm up on the coverlet, looking only a little less alive than the Edward of a week ago.

Northumberland had known he needed to suppress the news of the Kings death for as long as could. The plan, now in place, had been one devised between himself and Suffolk months ago and two of Northumberland’s most loyal servants were set to carry out. One of his captains and a trusted steward took complete control of her royal apartments while Northumberland slipped away