D. Wilson - The Traitor’s Mark

On Thursday I was up before dawn. When I went into the stable yard Walt was already brushing down Golding, my grey horse.

‘Are you sure you want no company, Master Thomas?’ he asked, as he fitted the bit into the gelding’s mouth.

‘Quite sure, thank you. Please assure everyone that there’s no need for alarm. I expect to be back tomorrow, or Saturday at the latest.’

‘God go with you,’ he called as I rode out of the gate.

I muttered an‘Amen’ under my breath.

I was at Gravesend in less than a couple of hours. An extraordinary scene met me at the quayside. It was as though the contingent of a royal army were preparing to embark for a foreign war. There were horses and men everywhere. Some were already crossing the estuary on the ferry boats and other craft that had been commandeered. I threaded my way through the throng and eventually found Morice in conversation with the guard captain.

He turned to greet me. ‘Ah, there you are, Thomas. Good.’

‘This is an enormous turnout,’ I said. ‘How many men have you got here?’

‘We want to be absolutely sure of our man,’ he replied. ‘You, yourself, impressed upon us how slippery Black Harry is.’

‘Where exactly are we going?’

‘“Exactly”? I’m not sure. Our guide is keeping the details very much to himself.’

‘I can’t help repeating myself,’ I said, lowering my voice. ‘This is madness. You’re seriously letting this knave lead all these men on a wild horse chase? All he’s interested in is giving you the slip.’

‘He won’t do that. He’s in that wagon over there, securely bound and well guarded.’

‘Even so, I like it not. Have you no idea where we’re bound?’

‘His story is that Brooke has a small ship on an inlet further along the coast.’

‘Supposing that to be true, why hasn’t he gone already?’

‘Apparently, his craft can only get away on a high tide. Black Harry called for an almanac and calculated that this afternoon will be the first opportunity for Brooke to escape the country.’

‘This stretch of coast is shredded with channels, is it not?’

‘Yes, but few are navigable by larger vessels and the sands are treacherous. That limits his choice. If he did manage to slip away we have a galleass patrolling further offshore to give chase.’

‘Since you’ve made such elaborate preparations, I can’t see why you need me.’

‘Black Harry says he’ll only give directions to you.’

‘Black Harry! Black Harry! Black Harry! Who’s in charge of this expedition?’

Morice frowned. ‘Thomas, you’ve made your feelings clear. What you have to remember is how much is hanging on the success of today’s events. If we capture Brooke … well, I don’t need to tell you again what that would mean. Our friends at court have persuaded his grace that no opportunity should be lost, however slight. That’s why we’ve mobilised this large force. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must get the wagon loaded.’

By the time everyone had been transported to the Essex bank the morning was far spent. When we set off inland, Morice instructed me to ride behind the wagon. Black Harry obviously regarded my presence as a petty triumph. As I took up my position, he leered at me and nodded. I did my best to ignore him.

When we reached a crossroads the prisoner stood abruptly and called out, ‘Stop.’ He made a great show of looking all around. Then he called out, ‘Master Treviot, if you please.’

I drew alongside the wagon.

He smirked. ‘How pleasant to be together again, Master Treviot. Do you not admire my retinue?’

‘Just give us the directions,’ I muttered.

‘Directions? Well, let me see. I think we’ll go … right.’

This play-acting was repeated every time we came to a junction or fork in the road. Black Harry gave the impression that he was making up the route as he went along. I became increasingly convinced he was deliberately leading us nowhere, just for the perverted pleasure of wasting our time and causing us maximum discomfort. A chill wind was blowing in off the German Sea across the marsh and we were all huddling into our cloaks as much as we could. As we meandered, apparently aimlessly, across the barren landscape the troops became increasingly restive. After a couple of hours my patience snapped. I spurred my horse, rode to the head of column and drew level with Morice and the guard captain.

‘This is utterly futile,’ I said. ‘Can’t you see what he’s doing? He intends to keep us on the move until ’tis dark and we are miles from anywhere.’

The captain agreed. ‘We don’t have provisions for an overnight camp. If we don’t get to wherever it is we’re supposed to be going in the next half-hour or so, we’ll have to turn back. This fellow’s simply making fools of us – or perhaps he’s hoping to escape somehow under cover of darkness.’

Morice scowled, and I could well imagine the question that was going through his mind: how was he going to explain this fiasco when he returned to Croydon? ‘I’m afraid you’re right,’ he said. ‘Turn the column round, Captain, and we’ll retrace our steps as fast as we can.’

The captain called halt and rode back past the ranks of his men.

When Black Harry realised what was happening he called out, ‘Stop! What are you doing?’

‘We’ve had enough of your game, Master Walden,’ Morice replied. ‘We’re heading for home and, by the saints, I’d make you walk, if that wouldn’t hold us up.’

‘You can’t do that now,’ Black Harry cried. ‘We’re nearly there.’

‘Save your breath,’ I called out. ‘We’ve had enough of your lies.’

‘No! No!’ the prisoner shouted. ‘I’m telling the truth! See those trees up ahead? Just beyond, the road slopes down to the creek where Brooke’s ship lies.’ For the first time, he seemed genuinely agitated. The braggadocio had gone. He was almost pleading.

I found this sudden change more worrying than his former arrogance. What was he planning now? I wondered.

Morice, however, was still eager to be convinced. He stopped by the wagon. ‘The other side of that copse, you say?’

‘Yes, that’s right. You’ll see.’

‘Very well, we’ll ride as far as the trees – and no further.’

As- Morice trotted after the captain to have his order countermanded, I caught him up. ‘Just a moment, I don’t like this,’ I said. ‘I know this fellow. He’s up to something.’

‘Well, we’ll soon see. Three or four minutes and we’ll look for this ship of his.’

‘Might it not be better,’ I suggested, ‘to send a couple of scouts ahead to look for Brooke’s vessel?’

‘I don’t want to keep everyone standing still in this wind. Another quarter of a mile and we can shelter among the trees, rest the horses and then start back.’

I had to admit there was a certain amount of sense in that. The clump of leaning, wind-blown oaks was the only visible cover to be seen. It would be good to dismount for a few minutes and stretch our limbs. When we turned round we would, at least, have the wind at our backs.

Morice told the captain what he had decided and the captain passed on to his men the. welcome news that they could have a short break.

While the column reorganised itself, I scrutinised the figure in the wagon. He was standing and closely watching what was going on. Was he calculating something? Perhaps he was concocting yet another story to keep us on the move and to maintain the illusion that it was he who was in command.

I edged Golding up to the side of the wagon. I looked at the prisoner and satisfied myself that his bonds were tight. ‘Keep a close watch on this fellow,’ I said to his guards. ‘Whatever he says to you, don’t believe him. Better still, make sure he keeps his mouth shut.’