Iris Collier - Day of Wrath

‘We talked politics, not treason.’

‘Amounts to the same thing these days. Keep your mouth shut, Peverell, and confine your conversation to estate management.’

‘Thanks, I might take your advice. But what had Fitzroy got against Mortimer that he informed on him?’

‘He had to, in order to save his own skin. Otherwise, as soon as the King heard he’d been talking to Mortimer, who’d been under suspicion for some time, he’d order his arrest. As it is, I wouldn’t like to be in Fitzroy’s shoes. He’ll have a job keeping his nose clean. But as he’s Lord Lieutenant of the county, he’s needed to raise a muster when the King comes. I’m uneasy, though. These musters are not made up from trained soldiers. We haven’t got a standing army, as you know. They’re just ordinary citizens armed with pikes and harquebuses if they know how to fire them, which they don’t. We don’t know who they are and one of them could be this Ultor – what a damned stupid name that is! I think we’ll have to confine Fitzroy’s muster to your end of the county. I don’t trust them poking their noses into everything round here.’

‘The King’s in just as much danger when he’s with me, as when he’s here with you.’

‘It’s not quite the same. You can at least confine him to your house. When he’s reviewing the fleet he’ll be at Domus Dei down on the Hard, right out in the open, standing around for an hour or more. Anyone could take a pot shot at him. I wish to God he’d come to Porchester instead of Portsmouth. He can’t come here. It’s only big enough for a handful of soldiers. Certainly nowhere to entertain the King. It’s just a tower – there are plans afoot to rebuild it, but that’s in the future – and he can’t see the fleet from here. It’ll be a nightmare trying to hold on to him down on Portsmouth Hard.’

‘The King’s got a mind of his own, and he’ll not change it. God, man, if you think you’ve got a job keeping the King under control, just think of me. When I last saw him he was talking about going hunting!’

Southampton whistled. ‘This is getting worse by the minute. I suppose he sneers at travelling in a coach and will want to ride here on horseback?’

‘That’s the general idea. Wants to show himself off to his loyal subjects, and ignores the fact that anyone not so loyal could shoot him down.’

‘Then there’s only one thing we must do, and that’s find Ultor damn smartly. I wonder if the devil lives locally or is he only an infrequent visitor?’

‘I’m sorry to say I think he lives in my area. Could be a Marchester man, of course. There’s a nest of traitors in the cathedral as I’m sure that traitor, Catchpole, the Precentor, wasn’t the only one to murmur against the King’s policy. Let me remind you that my steward and his girlfriend overheard Mortimer talking to someone, probably Fitzroy, as it happens. The poor devils were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Hayward, my steward, was murdered. We know now that Mortimer ordered his death. But the girlfriend, Bess Knowles, died after Mortimer’s arrest. This implies that someone else stepped into Mortimer’s shoes and took over where he left off. And he’s still at large.’

‘So this Ultor took over straight away after Mortimer’s arrest?’

‘Yes, I’m sure he made a pact with Mortimer. Should Mortimer fall, his mantle would fall on Ultor’s shoulders. But this is all speculation. So far we have no proof that Bess Knowles’s death had any connection with her boyfriend’s murder. She was pregnant. The Coroner said the death was due to natural causes.’

‘Still, it’s a coincidence. You’ll have to keep a good eye on your patch. Get some spies out there, people you can trust, someone who can talk to everyone and not arouse suspicion.’

‘I’ve got just the right person.’

‘Good. Who is he? One of your servants?’

‘No, a girl.’

‘Good God, man, are you mad? Look here, Peverell, this is a serious matter. We’re talking about high politics, not a church outing. Whatever made you think that a girl could be any use at all in espionage?’

‘She’s intelligent, well informed, independently minded. Gets around on her own horse, is liked by everyone, and no one suspects her. She’s already investigating something that I admit is a bit far-fetched, but she thinks it’s important and she might be right. After all, we have to keep an open mind if we’re to find Ultor before the King comes.’

‘I agree with you about that, Peverell, but a girl!’ He looked keenly at Nicholas. ‘I suppose she’s in love with you; and by God, you’re in love with her, aren’t you? This is no time for romance, Peverell. You’ll get nowhere with all this airy-fairy romantic nonsense. You always were too soft for your own good. Wake up, man. We’re talking about the King’s life here.’

‘Love doesn’t come into it, Sir Ralph. I like her, and she goes everywhere and reports to me. That’s all.’

‘Well, what is she investigating at the moment?’

‘She wants to know why an old lady who’s never done anyone any harm should suddenly be suspected of witchcraft.’

Southampton laughed derisively and slapped Nicholas on the back. ‘Sometimes, Peverell, you drive me mad. You live right up in the clouds. Witches are two a penny. Apart from putting the old curse on someone, I’ve never known them to dabble in treason. Unless they put a curse on the King, of course, then we’d string them up.’

‘She’s done nothing. She’s more of a local healer than a witch.’

‘Then tell that girl of yours to stop wasting time on her. I say, Peverell, is she pretty?’

‘I suppose she is, but that’s not the point. She’s as sharp as any man.’

‘Well, good luck to you. If you’re going to have a female spy it’s just as well if she’s pretty. No trouble in getting people to talk if you’ve got a pretty face. However, I think I’ll place my bet on the Sheriff if we’re going to find this Ultor. Wenches are all very well in their place but best kept away from politics. Now, if you’ve eaten sufficient, let’s go through the security arrangements for the King’s visit. You know you’ll have to increase the number of guards on your house?’

‘The King’s sending down some of his yeomen.’

‘Thank God for that. They, at least, can be trusted. Don’t let anyone get near the King whom you don’t know. Treat all strangers with suspicion. You can rest assured that no harm will come to the King when he’s under my protection. I can’t say the same when he’s with you. Now let’s get down to business. I’ve got a chart over there with all the King’s movements mapped out on it. As far as I’m concerned he’s not going to take one step outside proscribed limits. If I were you, I’d do the same.’

‘I’ve just told you, my Lord, he wants to go hunting.’

‘Then you must try to dissuade him, Peverell. Remember William Rufus.’

* * *

Jane arrived at Peverell Manor only to be told by Geoffrey that Nicholas had long been gone.

‘Can I ask where he’s gone to?’

‘You can ask, but I can’t tell you. More than my life’s worth. Let’s just say that he headed west.’

Then she remembered he’d said he had to see the Earl of Southampton. Well, she thought, there was nothing for it, she’d have to conduct her own investigations. Someone wanted Agnes out of the way and was setting about it in a devious way. But she was going to find him whether Nicholas helped her or not.

It was still raining when Jane arrived at Abigail Butcher’s house. She lived in a tiny, timber-framed house, its walls made of a daub of clay and dung mixed with straw and twigs. A pig was rooting around in the piles of rubbish which littered the yard, and she scuttled off grunting and squealing when she saw Melissa. Jane tied her horse to a tree and went into the yard. The rickety front door was open and she peered into the dark interior where a woman was crouched in front of a smouldering log fire, stirring the contents of an iron pot. She looked up when Jane knocked and smiled. Jane was well known to her. The Butchers were one of the few really poor families in the village and Jane often dropped in a batch of eggs or some honey when she went past.