Wolf Wood (Part Two): The Dangerous years (27 page)

She leant out of the window and the young man looked up at her. Their eyes met. His were bright like diamonds and seemed to look right into her. She had a feeling she knew him. He looked a bit like Steven Gascoigne but older than when she had last seen him.

***

T
he room was small but it had its own privy and was comfortably furnished. Steven noticed that effluent from the privy was not discharged outside but ran into an internal drain. The door was massive and could be locked on the outside. There were no windows and ventilation was provided through slits in the walls. It occurred to him that the room could serve as both a secret hideaway and a prison. It could also operate as an extermination chamber if poison gas was pumped inside.

Robin brought his evening meal and left saying he would return later. The meal was cooked in the northern style and not entirely to Steven's taste. But it was warm and nourishing. He needed to get some food into him. The journey from London was more demanding than he had expected. Cunningham arranged transport as far as Leicester. After that he had to make his own way north so as not to arouse suspicion.

That was easier said than done. There had been a complete breakdown of law and order in some parts of England. Travellers ran the risk of being robbed or mistaken for robbers. Many had taken to blowing horns before entering villages. People were getting trigger happy and it was advisable to let them know that you weren't sneaking up on them.

Shoot first and ask questions later
.

It was best to avoid that sort of situation and one way was to join the carriers transporting goods and letters between towns. He had paid for the privilege and had left their company at Wakefield, about a mile from Sandal Castle.

He finished his meal and went to a writing table. Paper and ink had been provided, together with a supply of goose feathers for quill pens. He took a knife and trimmed one into a pen suitable for writing with the left hand.

Being a double agent was dangerous and having two identities cut down the risk of being caught. His other identity was Bernard who spoke with a slight French accent and wrote in the French style using his left hand. The real Steven wrote with his right hand and formed his letters in the style favoured at Westminster.

Writing in the French style was easy because he had been taught it in Normandy. Speaking with a French accent was easy because he spoke the language as well as he spoke English. Writing with the left hand had required hours of practice on thin slithers of pine wood, which he chucked in the fire when he had finished so as to hide what he was doing.

Disguising your handwriting when you wrote things down was one way to reduce the risk of being caught. Writing down nothing that could incriminate you was far better. Steven had trained his memory and carried as much in his head as possible.

He wrote his report, signed with an elegant French flourish and was wondering what would happen next when the door opened and Robin appeared, followed by another man. To his amazement, Duke Richard of York was paying him a visit.

'Good Evening. Steven.'

Steven rose and grasped the hand that was extended towards him. He had last seen Duke Richard in Westminster and had spoken to him on two previous occasions. York got straight down to business.

'What have you to report?'

Steven knew the routine. They would start in a brisk manner and end with a casual chat. He began with a piece of information that was probably already known.'

'Somerset is saying you are planning to seize the throne, Sir.'

'To whom is he saying this?'

'To anyone who will listen.'

'Is that all?'

'No. He is planning a meeting of peers of the realm known to be loyal to the House of Lancaster. They will discuss the alleged threat to the king and draw up plans for his defence. A list of invitees has been drawn up and letters dispatched. I think it unlikely that you will be receiving one, Sir.'

A thin smile crossed the duke's lips.

'How did you get this information?'

'I went to visit my father at work. You know how the secretaries are crammed together in one big room. It's circular and has a vaulted ceiling. You say something and people opposite can hear as loudly as if you were standing right next to them. My father works with bits of wax stuffed in his ears so he won't be disturbed.'

'And you heard someone reading out a list of names?'

'More than that. When they had left for dinner, I went across and saw it. The security is as bad as ever. I don't know why Cunningham doesn't do something about it.'

Steven produced a sheet of paper.

'These are the names. I wrote them down while I was waiting to see you.'

'Have you written them anywhere else?'

'No, Sir. I never write anything down unless I have to. I remember everything. I've worked out ways to do it and not make mistakes.'

'What else can you tell us?'

'Queen Margaret has been talking to the Scots. They've been travelling by ship from Edinburgh. That way they can land at Greenwich and return home without being seen. She went to Greenwich Palace to meet them.'

'How do you know?'

'I went with her.'

'As a servant?'

'No. She treats me like I'm the royal mascot. She took her dogs to Greenwich too.'

'Do you know what the queen and the Scots spoke about?'

'No, Sir. I wasn't there. The dogs were though. She gave them as a present for their queen. Maybe she'll do the same with me if I'm not careful.'

The duke allowed himself a chuckle. Steven liked the way things were going. He felt more relaxed with Robin and the duke than with Cunningham and the queen. The duke was honest and so was Robin. With Cunningham, you never knew if he meant what he said. Margaret was so moody you never knew how she would react.

The business part of the meeting came to a close. The duke asked about his parents. He wanted to know if Steven's mother approved of his association with Queen Margaret. Steven said it was hard to say because he didn't see his mother much and they never talked about what he was doing.

***

E
dward checked his armour. It had got a bit knocked around during training and he needed to make sure everything was in place. Some people left that to their squires. His father said you shouldn't. You should do it yourself and not rely on others. A broken strap or a loose coupling could mean the difference between life and death.

He wondered about the young man who had come into the garden during training. He was with Maud's father who was captain of the guard. That was an important position but not nearly as important as his main role. Sir Robin was a senior advisor to his father. Not many people knew that but Edward had been told. He needed to know because, if anything happened to York, Sir Robin was one of the people he should go to for protection.

There were things that Edward knew and a lot that was kept secret from him. He was the Duke of York's son but that didn't mean he was told everything. Edward had no problems with that. His father was strict and a bit dull but he was very good at what he did. People said he would make a great king if he ever got the chance.

It seemed to Edward that the chance might come sooner than later. York and Salisbury were recruiting men in the Scottish marches. These were the lands bordering Scotland. The people there were tough. They had to be. There was a lot of cattle rustling and cross-border raiding. Many families were neither Scottish nor English. They didn't think in such terms. Their allegiance was to a lord and they changed lords whenever the fancy took them.

The northerners would be formidable if turned against the south. The southerners were soft in comparison. They were bigger and fatter because they ate better but that didn't make them stronger. The small, wiry northerners would dash into battle even when greatly outnumbered. They would fight when others ran away.

Edward picked up his breastplate and examined a dent made when one of the boys struck him with a mace. The blow had knocked him to the ground and his ribs were bruised. They would heal and the blacksmiths would hammer out the dent so it didn't show. That was the sort of thing that happened in fighting and you had to get used to it.

As well as the dent, there were marks left by arrows. He'd not been wearing the breastplate at the time. They had put it against a wall and shot at it with a longbow. The breastplate was shaped to deflect arrows and they wanted to see if it worked properly. The result was impressive. The arrows bounced off leaving no more than scratches.

Then they used a crossbow. The steel bolts made more impression than the arrows but were deflected in much the same way. You would be safe wearing the breastplate but someone nearby might get hit by missiles spraying off you.

The same could not be said for cannon balls. Nothing would make you safe from them. It wouldn't matter how many breastplates you wore. If you were hit by a great ball of iron, you would pass into history. Edward wondered about the much smaller balls fired by handheld cannons.

The Earl of Warwick had recruited a special brigade from Burgundy. They were armed with the new weapon. It was like a tube mounted on two legs that folded away. It was easy to carry and light. You could get it into the thick of battle and blast away at short range.

Edward wondered if the damage caused by a hand-cannon was any worse than that caused by a mace. He suspected it wasn't. It didn't matter. The new weapon had caused panic when the Burgundians used it against the French. Any weapon that could do that was worth having. Battles were won when the enemy broke ranks and fled. A fleeing enemy was far easier to cut down than one that stood its ground and stayed to fight.

He hoped the ferocity of the northerners and the explosive power of the Burgundians would be enough to panic the Duke of Somerset's men into flight. He was the enemy they would have to face. Queen Margaret had got him released from the Tower and they were running the country together. Edward's blood boiled whenever he thought of Somerset. The man was traitor and arsehole rolled into one. The sooner England was rid of him the better.

***

T
he bluebells were in flower and the sun was shining. It was a pleasant spring day but there were few people in the royal park. In more peaceful times, families from London came to Westminster to admire the flowers. Now, the park was off-limits to anyone not sanctioned by the palace.

Feelings were running high. Somerset and the queen were deeply disliked by the Londoners. There was talk of secret alliances with the French and the hated Scots. Some even claimed that Somerset was the father of the baby prince and the pair were planning to murder the king.

Alice and Harald went for their daily walk in the park as usual. It had become a ritual. They went whether they had anything private to discuss or not. Today they had a lot to discuss and it was very private. Harald had learnt that Cunningham had sent Steven to Leicester on a secret mission. Alice was anxious to know more. Steven was deeply involved with the queen and it was very worrying.

'Have you no idea what it's about?'

Harald shook his head. 'All I know is that Cunningham sent him to Leicester. I don't know why he went. I don't even know if it was his final destination. I suspect my colleagues don't know either.'

'Is the queen involved?'

'Not to my knowledge.'

'She took him to Greenwich.' Alice's voice tensed. 'Do you know why? People are talking about it.'

'Steven informs me that he went as the royal mascot.' Harald suppressed a smile. 'He didn't elaborate.'

'It's said she fancies younger men.'

'Who?'

'Margaret. Who else do you think I'm talking about? You must have heard the rumours.'

'I suspect they refer to our son.'

'Well. Is it true?'

Harald remained calm. 'My love. I have no way of telling. All I know is what Steven tells me and that's not much. I see him even less than you. He drops into my office for a chat. I can hardly engage him in a personal conversation. The acoustics are appalling. There are twenty or more people working in that confined space. Everyone can hear what's being said …'

He rambled on. Alice wished he would show more concern for their son. Perhaps he was concerned and didn't want to worry her. Steven was keeping very dangerous company and the omens were frightening. Sexual liaisons with royalty were fraught with danger. They were difficult enough when the royal person was male. When the royal person was the queen, they could be deadly. Having sex with the queen was treason. Men had suffered the horrors of a traitor's death for cuckolding the king.

'What do you think he's up to?'

The words escaped her lips.

'Who, my love?'

'Steven. Of course. Is he having sexual relations with the queen. If he is then what's his reason? He surely doesn't find her attractive.'

Harald's pace slackened. 'I have asked myself that very same question.'

'And what answer did you reach?'