Wolf Wood (Part Two): The Dangerous years (14 page)

'There's a lot of movement through Aldgate.'

'Aye.' Robin glanced in that direction. 'The men of Essex are getting back to their families. They've seen how this thing is developing.'

'What do you think about the bridge?'

'Harder to say.' Robin returned his attention to the river. 'Cade's lost support from the southern shires but the troops from France are still behind him.'

Commander Gough walked over to where Robin was standing.

'Looks like the bulk of Cade's forces are planning to spend the night on the south bank. If the Mayor had any sense, he'd close the bridge and stop them coming back.'

'I don't see that happening.'

'Nor do I. What do you suggest?'

'If he won't close the bridge then we should.'

'Agreed.' Commander Gough nodded. 'If he's not done anything by nightfall, we'll go down there and do it for him.'

***

Steven let the dinghy nudge against the pylon. The tide was flowing up river and he had reached London Bridge under cover of darkness. Daybreak came early at that time of year and wasn't far off. It would be a good time for an ambush. The rebels usually trooped back into London at first light.

There was a lot of yelling and shouting. At first, he thought they were having a party. That's what had happened on the previous two nights. They had partied on the bridge. It had gone on until daybreak then the first of the contingents from Southwark had started to stream back into London, led by their captains.

This time, the bangs sounded too loud for fireworks. Guns were firing and people were screaming. The roadway between the houses on the bridge was only eight foot wide. Steven had seen street fighting in Normandy. The slaughter caused by men wielding swords and battleaxes in such a confined space would be horrendous.

As he watched, the side of a house gave way and collapsed into the river. Elsewhere, women and children were jumping into the water to escape the fighting. That was not how he had imagined it. His plan was to stage an ambush, not get involved in a battle.

There was no going back. He'd timed the operation so that he would arrive on an incoming tide and leave when it had turned. You can't paddle against the tide in a dinghy. That restricts what you can do but has one big advantage. When the time comes to leave, you can make a speedy escape.

A huge waterwheel stood on the London side of the bridge. It was worked by the flow of the river and lifted water up into a conduit that distributed it around the City for flushing out drains.

It was a perfect place for a sniper. There was a covered platform where you wouldn't be seen. If you got into difficulties, you could dive into the river and make your getaway. All you had to do was duck down and hold your breath. The water was too muddy for anyone to see you. By the time you had to surface, you would be well clear of the bridge.

Steven secured the dingy and climbed onto the waterwheel. It was covered in slime and turning. That made boarding it difficult but not impossible. The trick was to work quickly and not fall off. He places a foot in one of the buckets and hung on while it rose towards a walkway.

The next bit was tricky.

You had to jump a gap. That meant you had to judge the distance in the poor light. He half got it right and landed on his knees, which was painful.

He checked his crossbow to make sure it hadn't suffered when he crashed down. It was still in good nick and so was his bag of bolts. He had six. They were made of hardened steel and sharpened to points so fine you could clean your nails with them.

From his perch he had a clear view of the roadway in front of the bridge. There were men in all sorts of uniforms. He guessed they were from the southern shires and wanted to go home. Robin had talked about them. They had come to London thinking they were going to throw out the earls and barons and replace them by people like themselves.

The poor sods didn't know they were joining a band of cut-throats. Steven could have told them. He knew what to expect from the people returning from France. His uncle and cousin were amongst them. They prided themselves in behaving like wolves. Dad had spent his life trying to get away from them. He didn't understand that there was only one way to deal with wolves.

Mum thought you had to roll over and bare your belly. That's what wolf cubs do. She should remember that wolf cubs grow up. They get old enough to know that there is something you can do about it. That's important when it looks like your belly is about to be ripped open.

Steven looked up onto the rooves of the houses and shops that lined the side of the bridge. There were archers with crossbows on them and they were wearing the uniforms issued to Robin's men. Steven had the impression that his side was winning.

Wounded men were coming from the bridge. He recognised some as Guy's men. Others followed. They streamed out and were confronted by men from the London militias. The Londoners had turned against them and the rebels were pinned down on two sides.

It was then that he saw Guy. He came off the bridge and stood with his men, waiting for them to regroup. It didn't happen a Steven had imagined but was just as good. Guy was less than fifteen paces away and wearing very little armour. Steven levelled his crossbow and took careful aim.

A shot in the chest looked the best bet.

Then someone got in the way.

Guy was a sitting duck but he couldn't do anything while the other man was in the way. He waited for him to move. A gap appeared and he wondered if he should risk a shot. Then the other man looked up and Steven pressed the trigger. If he had known it was William, he would have done it sooner.

The bolt struck his cousin in the throat and passed right through him before hitting Guy. He wasn't badly hurt but William's wound was fatal. Blood spurted from his jugular and his head dropped to the side as he collapsed onto the ground.

The soldiers stared at the twitching body in stunned silence.

Steven guessed that they had come to think of William as immortal. He had survived so many scrapes. Then Guy looked up. Their eyes met and Steven saw the expression of pure hatred on his uncle's face. He screamed for a crossbow and Steven didn't wait to see what would happen next.

Robin heard the scream and followed Guy's stare towards the waterwheel. Steven was up there. He saw the boy jump into the river and watched Guy run to the edge of the bridge.

A bolt from Robin's bow pierced Guy's back as he leant over the balustrade. A second hit him in the neck. The London militias attacked when they saw Guy fall. Robin saw the heads of the two Gascoignes struck off and impaled on pikes.

Sherborne Castle

November 2nd,1450

Alice stood on the castle battlements and looked towards Sherborne Abbey. She was back in Sherborne and her life had changed completely. People who once accused her of being a witch were now calling her Lady Gascoigne and falling over themselves to curry favour. Henriette was Lady Perry and Robin was a senior officer in the army of the Duke of York.

After the Battle of London Bridge, Robin returned to the Tower with Matthew Gough's body. The commander died fighting on London Bridge and Robin assumed control. People called him commander and the duke treated him as such when he arrived from Ireland to put down the rebellion.

The West of England was in a state of insurrection and York sent Robin to Sherborne to restore order. Abbot William Bradford was in the castle when they arrived. He had taken refuge there following the murder of Bishop Ayscough of Salisbury, who was lynched by a mob early in the uprising.

Bradford was terrified that Harald would be vindictive towards him. York had appointed him as a senior official in his administration and Harald was empowered to make arrests and punish offenders. He had done nothing to allay Bradford's fears and the abbot was going out of his way to please him.

A new font had been erected in All Hallows and Bradford was going there, under escort, to announce that it could stay. Harald had convinced him that it was in his interests to do so and had assembled witnesses. Steven was going with them. He was showing an interest in affairs of state and wanted to be there when Bradford was forced to make amends.

He had never admitted to shooting William. People claimed to have seen him fire the fatal bolt but he remained reticent. He was not yet thirteen yet a mystique was growing up around him. Steven had reached an age when it was possible to catch glimpses of the adult he would become. Alice wondered what the future had in store for her son.

Harald had set his eyes on returning to Wolf Wood. He had a document to show that he was owner of the former Gascoigne estates. Whether he could enforce it remained to be seen.

The courts granted ownership of Wolf Wood to Roger Knowles when Alice and Harald fled to France and he donated the ruined estate to his cousin, Ralph, who had been expelled from the monastery for supporting Alice when accusations of witchcraft were brought against her.

Ralph and Harald formed a partnership. Both had documents to say they were the sole owners of Wolf Wood. They weren't going to fight over it. Their parents' generation had done that with disastrous consequences. They didn't care whether the Knowles or Gascoignes were lords of Wolf Wood, so long as they were left in peace.

In the meantime, England remained in turmoil. The weak and ineffective King Henry belonged to the House of Lancaster. His right to the throne was questioned by the House of York, headed by Richard Plantagenet.

The House of Lancaster had the support of the rich and powerful but was deeply resented by the rising middle classes who regarded it as incompetent and corrupt. In times of crisis they looked to Duke Richard to restore order and good government to the land.

Wolf Wood

May 19th, 1453

A
lice lit the stick of sealing wax and watched as a drop of molten wax formed beneath the flickering flame. It grew and fell onto the package that Steven was holding. She didn't like what they were doing. Every
fibre
of her body told her to hold back and not rush ahead. They were not just sealing a package. They were sealing the fate of their entire family.

'Come on, Mother.'

Steven reached for the family seal.

'I've got to get this down to Sherborne today and I'm not going after dark ... it's not safe.'

Her son did not share her sense of foreboding. He watched impatiently as more wax dripped onto the cord that secured the package. A large blob formed and he sank the seal into it, holding the metal stamp in place while the wax set.

The seal left its impression: a three-headed wolf beneath a spreading tree: the Gascoigne family crest. Steven examined it critically. The package was destined for the royal palace at Westminster and everything had to be got right.

'That's fine.'

He took the package from her.

'I'll get it down to Sherborne. The royal messengers are going through tomorrow. I'll hand it to them. That way we'll know it's been delivered properly.'

Her son was only fifteen but already behaving like an adult. His father lacked his drive and determination. Steven listened to Harald and took his advice. When Harald dithered, Steven took control.

Harald was dithering a lot these days. He was no longer the forceful administrator who had worked in Normandy before the English were expelled from France. His stutter had returned and he was showing the lack of confidence that plagued him as a young man.

Alice watched Steven pull on his riding boots.

'Make sure you thank Master and Mistress Baret and don't do anything to put them out. Tell them I'll call with the medicinal herbs I promised.'

'Yes, Mother.'

'And ask about your grandmother. Master Baret is still on the almshouse board. He will know about her.'

'I'll go and see her myself, Mother.'

Alice tensed. 'Do you think that wise?'

'Why not?'

'Mistress Baret said she'd been told about William.'

'You mean that I killed him?'

'Yes …' Alice's voice wavered.

'Oh. She doesn't believe that.' Steven looked up from his boots. 'Grandmother knows that's just a silly rumour. I've told her I was there on London Bridge when William and Uncle Guy were killed. The light was bad. People didn't see what was happening and got it all wrong.'

He kissed her and went outside. Alice watched him saddle his horse. Her son was now the strong male presence in her life. She had feared he would grow up like his cousin William but Steven had taken after her side of the family. He had inherited her independent spirit and love of learning … and he had killed William.

She was certain of that. Twelve-year-old Steven had shot his twenty-six-year-old cousin with a crossbow during the Battle of London Bridge. He admitted he was there but remained reticent about the role he played in the battle. At an early age, an aura of mystery had grown up around her son.