Kate Sedley: The Plymouth Cloak

That sense of foreboding was particularly strong this morning as I paused outside the Annivellars' House and took stock of my surroundings. As I did so, I became aware that there was more of a bustle, more of a thrusting sense of self-importance among some of the passers-by, than was warranted even by such a thriving and industrious town as Exeter. Then I noticed the presence of the blue-and-murrey livery worn by the retainers of both King Edward and his youngest brother, the Duke of Gloucester. As it was unlikely that the King could be in the city without a great deal more pomp and pageantry than was immediately apparent, I concluded that it must be my lord of Gloucester who, when last heard of, had been rumoured to be arraying his Yorkshire levies with a view to leading them south, presumably as an added bulwark against invasion. But what, I wondered, could possibly be the reason for his being in Exeter this bright September morning?

My curiosity was to be satisfied in a far more dramatic manner than I could have imagined. Coming to the conclusion that there was nowhere in the Close where I could comfortably display the contents of my pack, I reluctantly decided that I had no option but to start knocking on doors and speaking to the goodwife of each household. There was always the chance that, during my travels, I might have picked up some small luxuries not readily available even in the shops and market-stalls of Exeter. But first, a mazer of ale would not come amiss, and with it I might also hear some of the local gossip. Consequently, I made my way towards Bevys Tavern which stood cheek by jowl with the Annivellars' House opposite the Cathedral. I was within spitting distance of the open doorway when my left arm was clutched, none too gently, from behind and a voice spoke breathlessly in my ear.

'Roger Chapman, you're to come with me. Now. To the Duke of Gloucester. My master is in urgent need of a man who he can trust.'

Those of you who have bothered to read my reminiscences thus far will know that during my first adventure — which I referred to just now — I also managed, quite fortuitously, to render a very important service to His Grace, the Duke of Gloucester, as a result of which it appeared that I was now to he pressed into use to do him another. As there was no way in which I could refuse the request, even though it would impinge on time when I should be earning my livelihood, I reflected on the inadvisability of getting mixed up with one's betters in the first place. However, the damage was done, and there was nothing I could do about it now.

I recognized the man who had accosted me without difficulty. His name was Timothy Plummer, and I had once rescued him from an importunate pieman, over-anxious to sell his wares, in Cheapside, in London. It was this encounter which had subsequently led to my meeting with his master, the Duke of Gloucester, and all that that involved. I stared at him now a trifle stupidly, as though not quite sure that he were real.

'How did you know I was in Exeter?' I demanded. 'I've hardly had time to get my bearings.'

'I saw you as you were crossing the West Gate bridge and went at once to His Grace. What does it matter?' he added impatiently. 'The Duke wants to see you. You have no choice but to accompany me immediately.'

'I'm aware of that,' I answered bitterly. 'I was going to buy myself a drink at Bevys Tavern. I suppose His Grace wouldn't be prepared to wait?'

Timothy Plummer drew himself up to his full height, but still failed to reach my shoulder, a fact which plainly annoyed him. But I was used to that. My size and strength have been, throughout my life, a source of irritation to others. (Not that I am as tall nowadays as I was in my youth. Age and crumbling bones have cut me down to size — physically if not mentally, my children inform me.)

'I am not prepared to wait,' he retorted grandly.

'It's just that I breakfasted a long time ago,' I grumbled. 'And then only on a couple of barley cakes and honey which a farmer's wife was kind enough to give me.'

My little man shrugged. 'I can't help that.' He jerked his head. 'Follow me. His Grace is lodging at the Bishop's Palace. But he must leave Exeter by this afternoon. We've no time to spare. '

I accepted the coupling of his name with the Duke's and fell in meekly behind him. He strutted ahead, his blue-and-murrey livery and insignia of the White Boar miraculously clearing a path through the jostling crowds. People turned their heads to stare at us and a glimmer of commiseration entered their eyes as they rested on me. Plainly they thought I had committed some misdemeanour and was being led away for questioning. This, together with my rapidly increasing thirst and gnawing hunger, put me in a thoroughly bad mood. By the time I was shown into the presence of the Duke, I was hard pressed even to speak civilly, let alone display the deference which was his due. All I could see was a man of my own age, almost twenty-one summers, as young and as vulnerable as I felt myself.

The Bishop's Palace at Exeter stands in the lee of the Cathedral, a red sandstone building, in sharp contrast to the pale Beer stone of the church. As I entered behind Timothy Plummer, there was no sign of Bishop John Bothe, but there was a hum of activity involving both his and the Duke's officials, whose general deportment and disdainful expressions — particularly when they deigned to glance at me indicated the measure of their self-importance. This was totally at variance with the Duke's own courteous manners and pleasant, welcoming smile.

He had risen at my entrance from a carved armchair beside a small and rather smoky fire, and came forward to greet me. He must have noted my sour expression for his eyes twinkled and he said ruefully: 'Roger the Chapman! It's a pleasure to meet you once again, although I fear you cannot feel the same way. I've dragged you from your work and you're cursing my presumption.'

'Not — not at all, Your Highness,' I stammered, disconcerted to find that he had read my mind so well. 'It's just that … that I've had nothing to eat or drink since early this morning and … ' My voice tailed away as I realized that I had said more than I had intended.

He smiled, the smile which lit up his face, dispelling its naturally sombre expression. 'And that enormous frame of yours needs constant nourishment, is that it?' He turned to Timothy Plummer. 'Fetch some breakfast for our friend here; whatever's available in his lordship's kitchens.' He gave a sudden crow of laughter. 'And knowing how our Bishops generally look after their creature comforts, there should be plenty, and in great variety.' As Timothy Plummer vanished, none too pleased at being sent on this menial errand, the Duke resumed his seat by the fire, indicating that I should pull up a joint stool which stood against one wall, and sit down opposite him. When I had done so there was silence for a moment or two while we regarded one another.

1 had forgotten how small and delicate-looking he was, the dark curtain of hair swinging almost to his shoulders. His mouth was thin and mobile, and a deep cleft ran between the upper lip and the wide nostrils of the straight Plantagenet nose. There were shadows round the eyes, as though he slept badly, and the chin was just a little too long and full for the true handsomeness of his big, blond, elder brothers. Yet in his lifetime, I have often heard him spoken of as the most attractive of the three, and I know women found him very good-looking. (To say as much today is akin to treason, but I shall tell the truth and hang the consequences.)

If Richard of Gloucester were delicate of body, he was steel-willed of mind, a fact attested to by his unwavering loyalty to his brother King Edward in the face of all adversity and temptation. Unlike his other brother, George of Clarence, his allegiance had never faltered, not even when it had meant giving up all hope of marrying the woman he loved. That sacrifice was now happily a thing of the past, and he and his cousin, the Lady Anne Neville, had been man and wife for eighteen months. And in some small way I had been instrumental in bringing that about.