Michael Jecks - The Death Ship of Dartmouth

‘All good,’ Hawley said. ‘What of the money?’

He always kept tight control of the cash in the house. Any merchant had to be careful about the total amount he held at any time, but Hawley was more cautious than most. When he needed it, he must have money to buy in goods. There were always deals to be struck with the cloth-makers in Totnes, and if Hawley didn’t buy their goods, others would. There had to be enough ready coin to pay for surprise purchases.

‘We have plenty,’ Strete chuckled. ‘There will soon be even more, too. The salvage of Pyckard’s ship will be very profitable.’

‘Good. Now, how much do we have presently?’

Alred felt the guilt of it. Bill could see that, and although he tried not to condemn his friend of so many years, it was hard not to.

‘I didn’t have any choice,’ Alred said again. ‘What else could I do?’

Law nodded. ‘I’d have done it if you hadn’t.’

‘He probably killed the man in our hole,’ Bill admitted. ‘So I suppose he deserved to be captured.’

‘Yes. We made a mistake when we knocked that fool on the head and saved him last time. We couldn’t do anything else.’

Bill took a long pull at his horn of ale. It was the sort of thing Alred would worry at for ages, like a hound with a tree-root, trying to pull it loose in vain, because the tree was too large. Alred felt guilt about his action because he knew too well that the man he had betrayed would die if found by Sir Andrew. There was no doubt in their minds of that.

‘He didn’t look like a rapist,’ Law said judiciously.

‘How can you tell what a rapist looks like?’ Alred snapped. ‘Any man can let himself fall foul of his humours and attack a lady. You don’t have to be a churl to fancy a tumble with a pretty wench and push your luck.’

‘He deserves to be caught, anyway,’ Law said, ignoring his bitter tone.

‘I wonder what they’ll do,’ Bill said.

‘What do you mean?’ Alred asked suspiciously. He could tell Bill was not convinced that his actions were justified, but then Bill had always been against anyone in authority. Bill had had one or two run-ins with the law, and both times he’d lost a lot of money, which was why he was working for Alred now and not a paviour on his own. No, he just didn’t trust the law or the men involved in administering justice.

‘Only that he’s on the ship now, so will they storm it and take him from it, or will they try to catch him by getting him back on shore?’

Law gaped delightedly. ‘You think they’ll try to take him on the ship? Let’s go and watch!’

‘Oh, Christ’s pains! Will you shut up!’ Alred snapped with a burst of frustration.

He stood and strode from the room irritably, and Law turned to Bill. ‘What’s his problem?’

‘Can’t you see what he’s done?’ Bill said with asperity. ‘He’s sent that Frenchman to be hanged. He’ll die now.’

‘So? If he hadn’t raped the woman, he wouldn’t have anything to fear, would he?’

‘If he did rape someone. How do you know he’s guilty? All we have is the word of this knight. Even when a man’s taken to a court, you can’t trust the witnesses,’ Bill said bitterly. ‘A rich man can bribe anyone he wants to get the result he desires. So all Alred’s done is send that man to be hanged to save our skins — even though he doesn’t know if the Frenchie was guilty or not. How do you think that makes him feel?’

‘Who gives a rat’s cods? I reckon he’s guilty,’ Law said.

‘And you’re so wise you can read his guilt?’

‘I can see what’s before my nose as clearly as any.’

Bill’s jaw jutted. ‘Sometimes, boy, people make mistakes and the wrong man is convicted.’

‘If he had nothing to fear, he wouldn’t have run away to here. Only a man with something to hide does a runner.’

‘Maybe he just knew that if he didn’t run, hotheads would assume he was guilty and kill him?’

Law curled his upper lip back from his teeth, his brow creased. ‘What are you on about? Look, that French scrote tried to get his hand up a lady’s skirt, it’s as simple as that. If he was innocent, he wouldn’t have run, would he? Come on!’

‘Come on, ballocks ! Don’t you ever wonder why I’m here? Why I don’t have my own business? I was hunted once, boy. Yes, me! Another woman was raped, and because I was on the spot, they tried to blame me for it. And I had to flee for my life because the man who’d actually done it said he’d seen me. He was rich, so I couldn’t stay to tell the truth. No one would have believed me. No, so I had to run, and all my property was taken.’

‘What are you doing here now, then?’

‘I’m safe now. I abjured the realm, and I only came back when I was given a full pardon. But a pardon doesn’t mean you can recover all the property you had to give up. Yes, I am safe, but I lost everything. So don’t tell me that justice is fair, boy. It sure as hell isn’t.’

‘Just because you ran off doesn’t mean this one’s innocent, does it? If you’d stayed, you’d still have all your property,’ Law said cockily.

‘If I’d stayed, I’d have been hanged.’

‘Yeah, sure.’

His open amusement, his smile of disbelief, made Bill’s face redden with anger. ‘You think I am lying, you little turd?’

Bill couldn’t help himself. He lashed out with his fist. It caught Law on the nose, and the lad was flung over backwards, crashing against a table and knocking the jugs and horns higgledy-piggledy as he went, arms flailing.

‘You mad bastard!’ Law said, shaking his head like a wetted hound. His fingers gingerly went to his nose and he wiped it with the back of his hand. ‘What did you do that for?’

Bill slumped back in his chair. ‘Just don’t judge men. Don’t judge me, don’t judge the Frenchie. You don’t know what he’s done. You don’t know what I’ve done. You have no idea!’

‘Go and swyve your mother!’ Law spat, standing. The blood was trickling from his nose, and he sniffed, his head tilted back slightly as he tried to stem the flow with his sleeve. ‘Sweet son of God, you’re mad today, just like Alred. I don’t have to stay here and have you punch at me, you old prickle!’

‘Where are you going?’

‘Out! I’ll go watch that foreign sod getting taken on the ship. I expect they’ll have him already. Maybe he’s hanging from a mast, eh? Probably dancing his last right now, and I’ll be glad if he is. You may not trust people, but I’d trust an Englishman over one of them Frenchies any day. You’re just weak because you’re old, Bill. You’re too old!’

‘Come back, lad,’ Bill said tiredly. ‘Look, I shouldn’t have hit you. I’m sorry about that. It was just frustration. I’m sorry, all right? Now sit down, and we’ll wait for Alred to come back.’

‘No — you wait. And when he gets back you can tell him why I didn’t want to stay with you. Christ’s cods! There’s a bad smell about the place while you’re in here!’

Law pushed past Bill, left the tavern and walked down an alley to the water’s edge, where he sat on a log and stared out at the ships in the haven.

‘Sod them both, stupid old gits,’ he muttered, and threw a stone spinning into the water.

Hawley ran his finger down the roll and checked off the figures. Then he slapped his purse. ‘Where’s the strongbox? I need more money. I’m off to the funeral of poor Pyckard today, and have to make a decent donation.’

Peter nodded and took his key, opening the great chest behind his desk. It was solid ship’s oak, built by Henry Pyket, of old planks from a ship he’d repaired, the bands of iron beaten by Hawley’s own smith, the locks cut and filed to size by an expert in Exeter. Lifting the heavy lid, Peter took up a leather sack filled with coin from the pile within.