Kate Sedley: The Plymouth Cloak

'But … But why does Your Grace not send an armed escort with him?' I stuttered. 'Surely your soldiers are able to provide him with better protection than I can?'

The Duke smiled faintly as he returned to his chair; a smile which gently mocked my naivety. 'And advertise to every enemy agent that here is a King's messenger going on an important mission to the Breton court? Our purpose would be divined immediately, Duke Francis forewarned and his mind poisoned against our proposals before our messenger had even set foot on Breton soil. King Louis of France would see to that, even if Jasper Tudor and his adherents failed to do so. No; the King would prefer his letter to remain a secret until it is placed in Duke Francis's own hands, where he can read its contents without bias. So I want Philip Underdown protected until he is safely aboard the Falcon , which will be waiting for him in Plymouth harbour the day after next. After that, your responsibility will be at an end and you may return here to collect your pack. It will be taken care of for you while you are away. You will leave this afternoon and spend the night at Buckfast Abbey, setting out again early tomorrow morning, which should allow you time enough to arrive in Plymouth before nightfall.' A sudden thought struck him and he asked with some anxiety: 'You can ride?'

A firm denial might have been my chance to extricate myself from a task which I was beginning to view with the deepest dismay and apprehension. But honesty, together with the feeling that God had, for some particular reason, singled me out for this mission, forced me to admit: 'A little. I used to ride the plough horses when I was a lad, either with or without the ploughman's permission.'

The Duke laughed. 'In that case, we must find you a nice quiet mount for your journey and hope that the experience doesn't prove too painful.' He rose to his feet, walked across to the door and opened it, speaking to someone outside for several minutes before coming back and sitting down again. 'Now, are there any questions you wish to ask me?'

There were dozens, but the most burning was who exactly was threatening Philip Underdown? The Duke was unable to give a satisfactory answer.

'Maybe no one, or there may be several different sources of danger, as I have already hinted. There must be many people from his past life who wish him ill, and it would be naive to imagine that his work for my brother and myself during recent years has passed completely unnoticed. We ourselves are perfectly well aware of the identity of a number of foreign and Lancastrian agents working in this' country. Some have been arrested, others left to continue with their work. That way we are able to confuse our enemies with false information.’ He smiled sadly. 'I can tell by the expression on your face that this world of intrigue and deception is new to you. I only wish I could have left your innocence intact, but alas, I need you. I have sent for Philip Underdown and he will be here shortly, as soon as my men can rout him out from whatever tavern he is in at present.' There was yet another pause, and it seemed to me that the Duke was turning something over in his mind, something of importance. But when he spoke again, all he said was: 'You say you rode plough horses as a boy. Who was rich enough to employ horses rather than oxen?'

'The Bishop of Bath and Wells,' I remarked, venturing on, a conspiratorial grin. His earlier remark about Bishops and their creature comforts emboldened me to believe he would share my wry amusement. Instead, my remark appeared to launch him on a further train of thought, and for several moments there was absolute silence between us. Finally, his eyes sought and found mine. He rubbed the side of his nose With one long, slender finger.

'I must be honest with you, much as it goes against the grain. There is possibly another source of danger threatening Philip Underdown. He has recently been in the company of my brother, the Duke of Clarence, who … who believes him to be an agent of the Tudors. You see what a double game we are forced to play!' He drew a deep breath which caught in his throat. It was obvious, to me at any rate, that he was extremely fond of this difficult elder brother, in spite of all that George of Clarence had done in the way of personal enmity, treachery and betrayal. Duke Richard went on: 'What I am about to say is for your ears only, to be discussed with no one. But I feel in the circumstances that it is only fair to tell you, as I am making you responsible for Philip Underdown's safety. My brother George has a secret, if one may call it that, for he is incapable of keeping anything totally to himself. Hints, innuendoes, knowing remarks all advertise to anyone interested that he knows something they do not. I have made it plain to him that whatever he knows, or thinks he knows, I want no part in it; but even so, I have been unable to escape the knowledge that it concerns something to the discredit of the Queen's family. Now, the Woodvilles are very powerful, as you may well know, and have their spies and agents everywhere. There is bound to be at least one in the Duke of Clarence's household, but he is heedless of the danger and thinks himself, as the King's brother, immune to the Woodvilles' reprisals; And perhaps for now he is. But other people are not, and it is my fear that he may have imparted his knowledge — or suspicions — to Philip Underdown as a presumed agent of the Tudors. If this is so, the Queen's family will have heard about it and they, too, may be seeking to destroy him. This is speculation on my part, but I tell you so that you may be even more on your guard.'

I digested this new information and came to the conclusion that it was danger from this particular source which was the real reason behind the Duke's concern for his messenger's safety. It was on the tip of my tongue to demand why he did not ask this Philip Underdown straight out if the Duke of Clarence had confided any dangerous information to him. Then I realized that he could not depend on receiving an honest answer. A man who was playing one devious game would not shrink from playing two. I sighed. It was evident that I was going to have my work cut out protecting this shady character. I was not looking forward to the next couple of days.

The door opened and Timothy Plummer reappeared. He shot me a brief, curious glance before bowing to the Duke and announcing: 'Master Philip Underdown.'

The man who entered the room had all my attention, although he merely bestowed on me a quick flick of his very dark eyes. These were of that deep brown which is almost black; of a density of colour that disguises expression and makes the thoughts behind them difficult to read. His hair, thick and curling over the well-shaped head, was equally dark, his skin swarthy. He was tall and powerfully built; a man who looked more than capable of giving a good account of himself in a fight. I began to feel my part in his protection was unnecessary, until I reflected that no man can meet danger head-on and also guard his back. I rose and pulled myself up to the full extent of my own considerable height.

The Duke was completely dwarfed between us, although, strangely, I did not realize it at the time. His was the presence which still dominated the room, nor did he himself seem aware of his lack of inches.

'Philip,' he said quietly, 'this is an old friend of mine, Roger Chapman. He will ride with you to Plymouth and see you safely aboard the Falcon . If there is any trouble, he will be there to help you.'

Philip Underdown's heavy eyebrows had risen at the introduction, and his mocking glance became slightly more respectful as he assessed my size and fighting capabilities. Nevertheless, his tone was dry as he asked: 'You're an expert with the sword and daggers?'

The colour flooded my face. In those days I blushed easily, and with my fair skin it was impossible to conceal the fact. All the same, I answered steadily; 'I've never learned the art of swordsmanship, but I'm expert with a cudgel. You have to be on the open road. Mine is downstairs with my pack, or I should be happy to give you a demonstration.'