Andrew Swanston - The King's Spy

Conversation in the carriage was difficult, and little was said until they approached Drayton, when Thomas asked about his duties.

‘If we face Essex,’ replied Rush, ‘despatches will be coming in and out all the time. Orders to our commanders, their reports, and intelligence from our observers as to Essex’s movements. Some will be encrypted. And there is always the chance of interceptions. If they are to be of any use, you will have to decrypt them immediately. Otherwise the moment will pass and any advantage will be lost.’

‘Do we know what ciphers they will use?’

‘We don’t, but, like ours, they will perforce be simple. In battle, there is no time for complexity. Please give some thought to the cipher you will use, and advise me of it. I will communicate it to our commanders in the field.’

‘As you wish, Master Rush,’ replied Thomas, thinking that a simple alphabetical shift might be best suited to a simple military mind. Certainly not Vigenère squares.

At Drayton, the carriage pulled up outside Rush’s inn. The carriage driver’s assistant jumped down and opened the door for them. Thomas picked up his bag and was about to step out of the carriage, but Rush would not hear of it. ‘The men will take your bag, Master Hill. Leave it for them.’

‘It’s only light,’ protested Thomas. ‘I can easily manage it.’

‘Nonsense, that’s what servants are for. They’ll bring it with mine.’ Reluctantly, not wishing to make a scene, Thomas put down the bag and alighted. The innkeeper emerged, all smiles and hand-wringing, to greet them.

‘Gentlemen, welcome to the White Hart. Your rooms are ready and your dinner is being prepared. The stables are at the back.’ Rush nodded and strode into the inn. Thomas followed him. A fire had been laid in the hearth, the floor had been swept and the tables wiped clean. There were no other customers. The innkeeper had been warned. Tobias Rush did not like unwelcome company or unnecessary discomfort. While Rush supervised the unloading of his chest, Thomas was shown upstairs to a small room. There he found a straw mattress on the bed, a woollen blanket, a bowl for washing and a jug of water. It was clean enough, smelt only slightly of mice, and was superior to either of the inns he and Simon had sampled on their journey from Romsey.

The coachman’s assistant soon arrived with his bag. ‘Here you are, sir,’ said the young man with a grin. ‘Not too heavy. We can’t get the chest up the stairs, so it’ll have to spend the night downstairs by the fire, same as us. Master Rush isn’t too happy about that.’

Thomas thanked the young man, and opened the bag. He knew at once that it had been tampered with. His box of quills was no longer wrapped in the shirt, and a corner of one sheet of paper was slightly torn. Either the coachmen had been looking for coins, or Master Rush had seen fit to conduct a search. For what? wondered Thomas. Doesn’t he trust me? No, it was probably the coachmen. Too bad they had found no coins. He decided to say nothing, but to keep the encrypted message with him at all times. That, if nothing else, must not fall into the wrong hands.

The innkeeper had certainly made an effort with their dinner. After bowls of hot vegetable soup, they were served a good pigeon pie with pickled cucumbers, and a sweet apple tart with cream. While Thomas tucked in happily, washing the meal down with half a bottle of claret, Rush ate and drank little. And he would not be drawn in by Thomas’s questions about himself. He admitted to having been born and brought up in London, but that was about it. Nothing about his family, his education or his home. By the end of the meal, Thomas had given up and turned the conversation, instead, to the battle that lay ahead. ‘If Essex has fourteen thousand men,’ he asked, ‘will he outnumber us, or we him?’

‘I believe the king will have the advantage in cavalry numbers, and his enemies in infantry. As to artillery, about the same. Much like Edgehill.’

‘Were you at Edgehill?’ asked Thomas, surprised. He had not thought of Rush in battle.

‘I was, as a member of his majesty’s household. But for Prince Rupert’s cavalry who preferred to chase a broken and fleeing rabble rather than wheel and charge at the rear of the enemy centre, we should have enjoyed a great victory. As it was, we could only claim one.’

‘It was certainly reported as a victory in the newsbooks.’

Rush smiled. ‘Yes. For that, I must take some responsibility. The king insisted upon as glowing a report as I could write. The truth, however, is that the battle was inconclusive. Many are.’

‘On that we agree,’ said Thomas. ‘Inconclusive and pointless. Much suffering, little progress. Will we never learn?’

‘Who knows? For now, our task is to win. When the king is back in London, we will turn our attention to the future. There is much to do to secure England against our enemies, and to expand our influence and interests overseas. Sugar, cotton and tobacco from the Caribbean islands and Virginia, spices from the East Indies, slaves from Africa. The opportunities for wealth and prosperity are limitless, as long as we have the courage to take them. If we don’t, the French and the Dutch will.’

‘How will we do it?’

‘The navy. A strong navy is the key. If we control the trade routes we control the trade, and if we control the trade we control its sources. The Americas, Africa, India. We must build a navy that cannot be challenged by our enemies.’

Thomas did not respond. He had never thought much about such matters. Rush clearly had. Abraham had called him an ambitious man. Ambitious and clever. Looking to the future, and ready to take whatever opportunities came his way. Not a man to be trifled with. He changed the subject. ‘Do you know Lady Romilly well?’ he asked.

Rush looked surprised. ‘Not well. I have little reason to speak to her, or, indeed, to the queen. My time is taken up with serving his majesty. Why do you ask?’

‘Mere curiosity. I understand that she is a widow with family in York. I wondered why she had left there to accompany the queen to Oxford. It seems an odd thing to do at such a time.’

Rush shrugged. ‘Loyalty, like beauty, is a matter of taste. Lady Romilly must have put her devotion to the queen before her duty to her family.’ He grinned unpleasantly. ‘Either that or she’s looking for another husband.’ Rush raised his eyebrows and looked hard at Thomas. ‘A courtier, I imagine, Master Hill, rather than a bookseller.’

As he had at the masque, Thomas let the insult pass. He did not want to get on the wrong side of this man. ‘Possibly, Master Rush, although she gave me the impression that her service to the queen would take precedence over marriage, as it has over her family.’

‘So you have spent some time with the lady, have you?’

‘A little. She seemed interested in why I was in Oxford.’

Again the eyebrows were raised. ‘Did she now? And what did you tell her?’

‘That I am visiting my elderly tutor. It was what Abraham and I agreed.’

‘You didn’t tell her anything of your work, I trust?’

‘No indeed. That would have been quite improper.’

‘Improper and foolish. Oxford is a dangerous place, and it is best to trust no one.’

Thomas was sick of being told that Oxford was a dangerous place, and having started it he now wanted to end this conversation before it got any more awkward. ‘Quite so. I shall take every precaution. Now, if you will forgive me, I shall retire. The journey has tired me.’

‘As you wish. Good night, Master Hill. And remember what I have said.’

Lying on his bed, Thomas replayed the dinner conversation in his mind. Was Rush suspicious of Jane Romilly? Or was he just suspicious of everyone? Thomas had not asked about seeing Rush in Merton. Best not to ruffle his feathers. And ‘The king will have the advantage in cavalry,’ Rush had said, ‘and his enemies in infantry.’ No ‘we’ or ‘they’. An oddly dispassionate manner of speaking. Intellect rather than emotion. A clever man. And his bag had been searched — he was sure of it. A thief or a traitor?