Authors: J.E. Moncrieff
“Identify yourselves,” one soldier shouted at them as the others stood still and drew their swords. The three of them remained silent forcing the soldier to address John and Jake whom he did not recognise. “Whoever you are, gentlemen,” he said. “I suggest you step back and allow us access to Courtridge. We are not in the business of killing for no reason. Do not involve yourselves in this. You are free to go if you give him up, or alternatively you will die here and now on this street.”
Courtridge looked at them both nervously. He knew they had no reason to protect him. The soldiers hadn’t recognised them and they could walk away as free men. But without even a glance, the two men answered together.
“No,” the brothers said firmly. Courtridge’s heart lifted again in admiration and his mind filled with hope.
“Last chance, Gentlemen,” the soldier bellowed again. “Walk away or die!” he shouted.
“Come and get him,” said Jake, smiling.
The five soldiers charged them down as one, only to be met with swinging swords in all directions. The power of Courtridge was overwhelming as he swung wildly in rage at the young soldiers before him. Jake killed a soldier quickly with a parry and a blow to the neck before locking into a struggle with the next man to face him. As John fought desperately with a young and fast soldier, he moved from block to block to avoid being run through and could not find an opportunity to attack. Courtridge still occupied two soldiers who went at him wearily as his huge form lunged between them aiming with every blow without a thought for those directed at him. Jake impaled his opponent and dropped him to the floor as Courtridge finally hit home with a strike to his man’s shoulder and knocked his blade towards John. The soldier attacking John ducked backwards to avoid the blade and dropped his guard long enough to let John in. The steel struck home and the young man looked in disbelief at John as the blade drove deep into his chest. They locked eyes before the soldier’s eyes glazed over and he fell back with a crash as the final groan of death behind them indicated Courtridge’s final strike.
Again they found themselves standing, exhausted, surrounded by the corpses of soldiers. John looked down at the soldier he’d fought and closed his eyes against those staring up at him hauntingly. He crouched by the first man he’d ever killed and closed his eyelids with his thumb and forefinger.
“I’m sick of fighting these innocent guards,” he said through gritted teeth.
“This is a war, my friend,” Courtridge replied as he shook with adrenaline and slowly re-sheathed his sword. “Fight is all we can do. Many innocent men have and will continue to die before this ends; young boys too. I’m just glad I have my allies.”
Jake gripped his shoulder, and then lifted John to his feet.
“I know how you’re feeling,” he said, recognising the significant occasion for his leader. “It had to be done and we knew it was coming. Come on, let’s get Edmund out of here before more of them come looking for their mates.”
Nodding, John fell into step beside them, and with their hoods up and their swords stowed, they quickly walked away and left the bloody alleyway behind. As they wound further and further from the carnage of their safe-house, they kept a steady pace and a low profile as the streets emptied out and eventually they arrived at the home of Samuel De Lyons. He opened the door and let them in without saying a word; watching them as they filed in wearing grim expressions on each of their faces.
“What’s going on?” he asked as he closed the door behind them.
“Someone has sold me out to the King,” Courtridge replied angrily. “Do you know anything?” De Lyons shook nervously at the sudden interrogation and answered quickly in disbelief.
“Of course not,” he said. “What happened? How do you know someone sold you out?”
“They came to the house to arrest me. I got away, barely, and only because these two brave men stood to fight for me.”
“My god, just the three of you?”
“No, Spence too, not that he was any help. He ran like a child and locked us in an alleyway to die for his own desperate attempt to escape.”
“He locked you in an alleyway?”
“He locked the only exit behind him and left us cornered by five soldiers. He did it in panic, I guess.”
“Panic? William Spence?”
“No, Samuel, don’t think it. There is no way William would set me up.”
“He set us up,” Jake said, bluntly. “I know we are not close to him like you are, but he put you on the line just by setting us up to be captured and interrogated. John was tortured for information, Edmund. We could all be gone if it wasn’t for his strength.”
“Strength?” John asked. “I wish I did have the strength. I can’t see that anyone really does. No, I was only saved by a brave Sergeant named Sykes.”
“Sykes?” Courtridge asked. “Is he alive?”
“Sadly, no,” John replied, watching curiously as Courtridge squeezed his eyes closed in pain. “I’m sorry, Edmund. He died saving my life.”
“Then who was it?” Courtridge retorted angrily. “Who set me up?”
“Spence,” De Lyons replied.
“Do you really think so, Sam?”
“My Lord, he jeopardised the whole plot and disregarded your authority. It would appear he did it for his dislike of the brothers, yet who knows his reasons. Maybe he did all of that to set you up more subtly. But then the King’s men turn up at your door, Spence disappears and locks you in an alleyway with soldiers? It’s too much for me. He is a traitor, My Lord, a traitor against our cause.”
“You’re right. You’re absolutely right!” Courtridge shouted back in rage. “I trusted that bastard and I’ll have his eyes in his mouth before I kill him.”
“May I suggest something else?”
The three of them turned to De Lyons as he sat, smiling cunningly from his desk chair.
“Go on,” John said, intrigued.
“Forgive me, My Lord. But once word of this comes out, your backing from the barons will be as good as over. They will not want to be associated in a rogue claim from someone with a tarnished reputation. Your claim to the throne will be nothing and, quite frankly, impossible.”
Courtridge bristled in frustration at both Samuel’s audacity in pointing out the obvious truth, but also in the revelation of his plans to claim the throne once the Yorkists were gone. He risked a sideways glance at the brothers he’d come to respect and found them both watching him, a smirk on each of their faces.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t know I was after the throne, gentlemen,” he said bitterly. “Thank you for pointing out my new position, Samuel. But in any case, my friend, the job must be done. The Yorkists must go, not only for us, but for our country. The King must die for the good of England.”
“I agree, and I’m glad you see it so. As such, My Lord, we must still take Edward. As he grows, his own strength over Richard will rise, and their struggle will divide our country. The strengths of the barons and Lords will be split firmly between Richard who is forming his backing as we speak, and Edward the rightful king. The country’s men will argue bitterly over two men of York and the dream of Lancastrian return will be as good as gone forever.”
“Yes, you’re right. So, your suggestion?”
“The job must be done. Richard will be weak enough for us to use someone else. And, My Lord, I fear you deserve recognition for your work in shaping this country. So use Spence.”
“Spence?”
“Use him and expose him. Solve all of our troubles at once and when he suffers, you will be recognised by Richard who at the same time will be weak enough to take out himself. You will be held in high regard, and warmly rewarded.”
“Samuel, you are a cunning fox, you know. You are right, and it is the best I can hope for. Let’s do it, my friend. Are you two still in for this?” he asked, turning to John. “I would really appreciate your help.”
“Yorkists down,” John replied. “Nothing has changed for us. We’re in.”
Courtridge looked on them with gratitude and nodded.
“We must act fast,” he said. “Samuel, gather the team, even William, and tell him nothing of my feelings. We move tomorrow night. We take the King tomorrow night!” he roared as he turned and embraced De Lyons in excitement. John and Jake shared a glance. Whether they were there or not, history unfolded before them as it had always been. Charlotte was right, there were forces at work and it left John awestruck. Whatever it was, this was the truth. This was why King Edward was killed. The diary was right, and it always had been.
Twenty-Four
22
nd
June 1483
“I just can’t believe we’ve gotten to here already,” Chris said as he helped John strap on his weapons. Wearing modern-day covert body armour, and with two knives, a sword and a cross-bow strapped to him, he looked like he was ready for a war.
“I know,” he replied, checking his straps. “It was simple when all we had to do was infiltrate a plot of treason. Carrying it out is a bit different altogether.” He closed his eyes for a moment and blew air through his cheeks.
“Are you nervous?” Chris asked.
“After being caught in there, yes. I just don’t want to get killed now. Not when we’re so close.” He looked over his armour and touched it absently.
“You’ll be fine, John,” David said as he watched from their wooden bench to the side. “For a start we know the treason is successful, we have that luxury at least. Secondly, you’re going with a set of trained killers, hired to kill a King in his bed inside his own castle. You’re in good hands.”
“There is that, I suppose,” John replied, smiling nervously.
“Exactly, you’ve already broken into that Tower, survived torture and fought your way out with only us four and that Brierly to help you. Imagine what you can do with that lot!”
Chris fussed around in front of John then interrupted.
“This armour, John,” he said. “It’s lightweight so it isn’t totally fool-proof in the 21
st
century, but if it’ll stop a nine-millimetre bullet, it will stop a blade, arrow or crossbow bolt. It won’t stop your bones breaking underneath, but it’ll keep them out of you. Those swords and axes out there are heavy. The impact will be devastating, so move fast and don’t get hit, ok?”
“Ok, Chris,” John smirked.
“Now, you’re covered chest, back, upper arms, wrists and outer thighs in the lightweight protection. Your groin and armpits, as well as your head, neck and the rest of your distal limbs are bare and are the most deadly and vulnerable areas so be careful. Jake will float too much if he wears this and won’t get through the tunnel. So when you’re together, make sure you protect him.”
“Got it,” John smiled. “When did you become so boring?” he said.
“When you started getting into daily sword fights with soldiers in armour,” he replied bluntly. “Now, technical equipment; cameras and audio are on, and you should pick up most things around you. Batteries should be fine and the memory is huge so just roll with it.” He stepped back from John and looked him over while David handed over his cloak. John caught Chris’ eye and nodded to him with pride as the young scientist checked over his handy work and grinned excitedly.
“You’ve done well, Chris,” he said. “You’ve prepped me just fine. You too, David. I’m very proud of both of you and I’d have no one but you four with me if I had to do this again.”
“And we’re proud to have you lead us,” replied David.
“Look after yourself, ok?” said Chris quietly. “We’ll be right here and ready to move when you get back. As soon as you’re done, we’re out of here and heading for that portal. There’s nothing here to wait around for and the longer we stay, the less chance we have of getting out.”