Edward Marston - The Princess of Denmark

‘You come on cue, my love,’ said Firethorn, massaging her buttock as she put the tray on the table. ‘Of the four of us, who is the best judge of a play?’

‘Nick Bracewell,’ she replied promptly.

‘And the finest actor?’

‘Do not fish for compliments, Lawrence,’ she said, pouring the wine out and handing the glasses around. ‘When you are in the same company, you do not compete. You act with each other.’

Hoode smiled his approval. ‘Well-said, Margery.’

‘Every team needs a leader,’ Firethorn commented.

‘He leads best who does not have to impose his will upon others,’ she said, handing a drink to her husband before moving away. ‘Bear that in mind, Lawrence.’

‘Heed your wife,’ Gill advised. ‘Margery spies your weakness.’

‘She spied yours at a glance,’ riposted Firethorn.

‘I did not come here to be abused.’

‘Then refrain from inviting it.’

‘I’m here to make important decisions.’

‘And so is Nick — let that be understood.’

‘It’s not only the choice of plays that must exercise us,’ said Nicholas. ‘There is the far trickier problem of selecting those who act in them. Lord Westfield has kindly volunteered to pay for our passage to Denmark but his bounty ends there. To defray expenses, we must travel with a smaller company and that will mean shedding several of our hired men.’

‘We must take musicians,’ insisted Firethorn. ‘They will expect songs and dances from us.’

Gill preened himself. ‘And especially from me,’ he boasted.

‘There’s not room for everyone,’ said Hoode solemnly.

‘Alas, no,’ agreed Nicholas. ‘Instead of musicians, we must have actors who can play an instrument. Their other skills should also be taken into account before we come to a decision.’

‘Other skills?’ said Firethorn.

‘Oswald Megson once worked as a carpenter. He will be sorely needed to make new scenery or repair anything that gets damaged. Harold Stoddard was apprenticed to a tailor. He must be both actor and tireman. As for David Knell-’

‘Oh, no!’ protested Gill. ‘I draw the line at him — anyone but David Knell. His face is so mournful that it makes me feel unwell. When he smiles, it is like a grave opening up. Forget him, Nicholas. Whoever else comes with us, we do not take Death Knell.’

‘No,’ said Firethorn, disheartened at the prospect before him, ‘we simply sound it for those we have to set aside. Very well — let us be fair but firm. As well as the sharers, who else comes to Denmark?’

‘How do things stand, my lord?’ asked Rolfe Harling.

‘Preparations are almost complete.’

‘In so short a time?’

‘There’s no point in delay,’ said Lord Westfield. ‘Once I made the decision to take my company with me, it was simply a case of leaving the arrangements to Nicholas Bracewell.’

‘And who might he be?’

‘An estimable fellow in every way. Though he is only the book holder with Westfield’s Men, he virtually carries them on his broad shoulders. He is our talisman. What he has done in the course of one week is extraordinary.’

‘A remarkable man, clearly,’ said Harling.

‘And he has one outstanding quality.’

‘What is that?’

‘He is a born sailor,’ said Lord Westfield, ‘and we need someone like him to comfort us on the voyage. Nicholas is the son of a Devon merchant. He went to sea with his father many times.’

‘Only across the English Channel, I daresay. I can tell you from experience that the North Sea is far more perilous.’

‘Do not talk of peril to Nicholas Bracewell.’

‘Why not?’

‘In younger days, he sailed around the word with Drake. He survived storms and tempests, the like of which we can only imagine. The North Sea holds no fears for such a man.’

‘I look forward to meeting him, my lord.’

‘I reserve my anticipation for my dearest Sigbrit.’

Although he knew every detail of her countenance from incessant study of the miniature, Lord Westfield took it from his pocket yet again and looked in wonderment at her. They were dining together in his favourite tavern and he was anxious for events to move as swiftly as they could.

‘You’ve written to her uncle?’

‘My letter will have arrived by now.’

Lord Westfield was worried. ‘We may have set sail before his reply comes. Oh!’ he cried, slapping his leg with a petulant hand, ‘is there anything more vexing than the tyranny of distance?’

‘Have no fears,’ Harling told him.

‘But I need to know that I am expected and wanted.’

‘You are, my lord, I assure you.’

‘Supposing that she has changed her mind? Or fallen ill and is unable to go through with the marriage? Supposing that I do not please her enough?’

‘You are all that she could wish for,’ said Harling, sampling the Madeira wine in his glass. ‘Her uncle and I took every aspect of the marriage into account. We do not leave for another ten days. There is no chance that his reply will fail to reach me.’

‘What if the ship should miscarry before it reached our shore?’

‘Even then, we would have no reason for alarm.’

‘I need to see her acceptance in the form of a letter.’

‘And so you shall, my lord — when we reach Flushing.’

‘Flushing?’

‘Yes, my lord,’ explained Harling. ‘Our vessel first calls there. I took the precaution of having any letters for you from Denmark sent to the governor’s home in Flushing. They will not even have travelled by sea but been carried overland by couriers.’

‘What a clever fellow you are, Rolfe!’

‘I did not want any correspondence to go astray. All that we have to do is to call on Sir Robert Sidney and retrieve any letters.’

‘You have put my mind at rest.’ After glancing at the portrait once more, he slipped it back into his pocket. ‘All things proceed to a successful outcome.’

‘I think you will find that every detail has been considered.’

‘And we will be housed in the castle?’

‘Kronborg Slot awaits you.’

Lord Westfield blinked. ‘Where?’

‘It’s what they call the castle in Elsinore.’

‘I could want a more mellifluous name for a place where I will marry the most beautiful creature in the world. However, if it contents Sigbrit, I’ll raise no complaints. Will the king be in residence?’

‘He’ll be sure to attend the ceremony,’ said Harling, ‘and he will certainly not miss any performances given by your troupe. English players have visited Demark before with distinction.’

‘Lawrence Firethorn will outshine all of them.’

‘Even he will take second place to Sigbrit Olsen.’

‘I’ll be fast married to her before I let him near her,’ said Lord Westfield with a grin. ‘Lawrence has an eye for the ladies. When absent from his wife, he has been known to seek pleasure elsewhere. But not from my Sigbrit — she is one woman he will never ensnare.’

‘How many performances will your company give?’

‘As many as they can.’

‘They will be in demand at Kronborg Slot and in the town of Elsinore itself, I daresay. And if King Christian admires them — as he is certain to do — he may well invite them to play in Copenhagen.’

‘What do you know of this new king?’

Harling pondered. ‘He is well-educated, ambitious and far-sighted,’ he said at length. ‘His mother was Sophie of Mecklenburg so he speaks perfect German. His father, King Frederick II, was a man of strong convictions and had an interest in the arts. His son shares that interest. Until his coronation earlier this year, the country was under a regent. King Christian IV has succeeded to the throne with the fire of youth in his veins.’