The devils chalice, p.22
The Devil's Chalice, page 22
part #3 of Thomas Treviot Series
‘Yes, the Commons house rejected it but he is determined to see me condemned and has persuaded his friends in the upper house to put it forward again.’
‘I fancy he will make little progress once his dealings with Allen become common knowledge,’ Ned said. ‘Pray do not despair. However black things appear now, night will give place to day and you are not without friends.’
That was all the comfort we were able to offer West at that time. As Ned and I made our way back through the busy streets I felt dejected. I had hoped for much from my meetings with De La Warr and his rejected heir but I had achieved nothing. And yet, it seemed to me that some things had been said that were important if only I could recognise them. Like a water-stained letter, the reason for West’s troubles had been set before me but the words were too smudged to read.
‘Do you not think this may be all about families?’ I asked, as we pulled to the side of the road to allow an overloaded hay wagon to pass down Poultry.
‘You mean noble clans forming alliances with and against each other in their constant competition for power?’
‘Yes, I could not have put it better myself. Old De La Warr is obsessed with his ancestry and his connections with the FitzAlans, Guildfords, Mortimers and their like – the guardians of the old order. He resents new kindred groups like the Seymours intruding into their private world.’
‘Well, he has much to complain about. The new men in power have enriched themselves with lands and ennobled themselves with titles since the old king’s death. Edward Seymour becomes Duke of Somerset; Thomas Wriothesley is made Earl of Southampton; John Dudley is now Earl of Warwick. They and the other new men are certainly thrusting the ancient nobility aside. Were I in De La Warr’s shoes I would certainly be worried.’
‘Would you fight back or accept the inevitable and make friends with the hated upstarts?’
Ned reined his horse in as the contents of a bucket poured from an open window splashed onto the road a few paces ahead. ‘Ah well, now, that would depend on the strength of my faith.’
‘What mean you?’
‘That it may be too simple to think that De La Warr is motivated solely by dynastic pride. Master West tells us that his uncle is a devout Catholic. He might regard it as his duty to stop this country’s headlong rush into the religious chaos that calls itself church reform.’
‘But how would blackening his own nephew’s name serve the cause of the old religion?’
Ned shook his head. ‘That I do not know. Perhaps he hopes to detach West from the Protector’s party; bring him back into the Catholic fold. None of West’s court friends have come to his aid. They will be keen to avoid the taint of murder and necromancy.’
We rode in silence for a few minutes and had passed the Great Conduit before Ned spoke again. ‘Of course, De La Warr might also seek new alliances. Lord Southampton is known to favour the old religion.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘Everything keeps pointing to him. Cranmer is immovable in his conviction that his lordship is reconciled to the new regime and a faithful supporter of the Protector.’
‘Which is precisely the impression he would try to give if he was secretly plotting against Somerset.’
‘Very true … and yet …’
‘You are beginning to doubt that Southampton is Allen’s patron and the man behind all the mischief we have seen in this business?’
‘No. But I am sure we are missing something. ’Tis like trying to mend a broken pot – no use until you have all the pieces. There is at least one piece we have not found.’
We had reached Milk Street. As Ned turned in the direction of his lodging, he said. ‘Then the best advice I can give you is “Stop looking”. If this potsherd is hiding somewhere in your head it will probably jump out when you least expect.’
For once Ned’s wise advice failed to bear fruit. I still had more questions than answers but, busy as I was with the shop and my ward responsibilities, after a week or so I stopped worrying away at the questions. I was still concerned about the prisoner in the Tower but I suppose I was influenced by the change of mood in the City. There was a feeling of profound relief that the crisis was over. Lord Warwick’s mercenaries were encamped just beyond the northern walls. We all felt safe and were concentrating on getting our lives back to normal.
Then, the problem of Robert Allen once more demanded my attention.
To my good friend Master Thomas Treviot my hearty commendations. His grace has commanded me to request your assistance in the investigation of Robert Allen. The prisoner has a proud stomach and hotly denies some of the allegations against him. His grace believes that your evidence will help effectively counter Allen’s lies and prevarications and enable us to establish the truth without further delay. I will come to escort you to Lambeth tomorrow forenoon and will then open matters to you in more detail.
Ever your friend
Ralph Morice
Thus ran the letter I received on Wednesday 19 September and, the following forenoon I found myself once more crossing the river in the archbishop’s barge. Morice, usually so reticent about telling me any more than he thought I needed to know was, on this occasion, a gushing fountain of information. He bustled me down Bread Street to Queenhythe, talking all the time.
‘We have to convince the council of this villain’s guilt. Then we can commit him to the Tower to await trial.’
‘Surely there is no lack of evidence,’ I suggested.
‘No, nor lack of pressure from certain parties who wish to see the prisoner set at liberty.’
‘Lord Southampton?’
Morice allowed himself a wry smile. ‘You persist, then, in believing that he is our villain’s principal patron? No, several people have been persuaded to vouch for the churl’s good character.’
‘I assumed that once Allen was in custody pressure would be exerted to draw valuable information and even a confession from him.’
‘Not in the archbishop’s house,’ Morice replied ruefully. ‘His grace will not countenance the kind of “pressure” you refer to. He will have the preliminary investigation carried out in an orderly fashion by a magistrate in front of witnesses so that Allen cannot claim to have been bullied into submission. That is why we must remove him to the Tower quickly. We shall not have all the truth from him till then. Unfortunately, time is not on our side.’
‘Why the hurry?’ I asked.
We had reached the quay and Morice did not reply until we were settled in the stern cushions, the curtains tight closed around us.
‘The moment of crisis we have all dreaded is almost upon us,’ he said solemnly. ‘His grace and the other heads on the Council have tried to preserve unity between the Protector and the other advisers appointed by his late majesty to govern the realm but Somerset is determined to go his own way and constantly snubs his colleagues. A man could be forgiven for thinking that the Protector enjoys making enemies. He has even put a strain on the relationship with his old friend and comrade-in-arms the Earl of Warwick. It is no exaggeration to say that England is heading for chaos, with two governments; one at Hampton, where the duke keeps his majesty close by him, and one at Westminster, where the council meets daily. If we are to avoid this we need to expose those who have been plotting against the Protector.’
‘Catholics like De La Warr, who want a return to the old ways?’
‘Yes.’
‘And if we can show that Allen is a traitor in the pay of the Protector’s enemies this will put a stop to their intrigues?’
‘I am sure it will.’
‘But, on the other hand, if Allen is exonerated and walks free West will appear to be a liar and a man prepared to murder his own kin. The stain of scandal might well spread to taint West’s friends in Somerset’s entourage.’
‘That is what Allen’s backers will hope and they will be vigilant in spreading rumours.’
Who are their targets?’
‘William West did a few terms at Cambridge. It was there that he accepted the teaching of Luther and his mentor was one of the university’s brightest scholars, John Cheke. This Cheke is now the brains of the Protector’s court. He is tutor to his majesty and very close to the king and his uncle. They are as inseparable as the three points of a triangle. If Somerset’s enemies could unseat Cheke they would have struck a major blow.’
The barge nudged Lambeth Stains and we went ashore.
The room Morice took me to was bare save for two rows of stools and facing them, a table and two chairs in which the president, a grey-haired local justice and his secretary, were seated. Four paces away and flanked by two members of the archbishop’s guard stood Robert Allen. He wore a grubby white smock. He was hatless and his greasy black hair draped loosely onto his shoulders. His hands were tied in front of him. Deprived of his ‘magic’ garb he appeared extremely ordinary. He might have been a farm labourer, dragged away from his plough to answer a bewildering set of questions from strangers. There were seven other people in the room among whom I recognised Edward Underhill and Gaston, Allen’s landlord. The interrogation was already in progress. Gaston was on his feet and speaking volubly.
‘Master Allen is a reader of horoscopes and, to my certain knowledge, nothing more. ’Tis true he advised people of auspicious times to try their fortune at the dice or the cards. I never heard there was any law passed against this. As to illicit gaming rooms, I never heard that Master Allen was associated with such.’
‘Yet we have had evidence presented of false dice and other deceits found among the accused possessions …’ The president paused as Morice stepped forward to whisper in his ear.
Thank you, Master Gaston,’ he continued. ‘Pray be seated. We will return to this later. Now we have been joined by someone who is come to give evidence of more important matters. Master Treviot, be so good as to stand and tell us why you accuse the prisoner of incitement to treason.’
Allen fixed me with a glare of intense hatred as I began my evidence. I explained my visit to the rebels’ camp at Mousehold and described how the self-styled magician deliberately stirred his hearers to rebellion, promising them success and assistance from the spirits of the dead. Three times I was interrupted by Allen, who shrieked ‘Lies!’ ‘Perjury!’ ‘This man is in the pay of the king’s enemies!’ But he fell silent when I produced an item I had found in the Aldermanbury lodging - one of the bills Allen had distributed among the crowds in Kett’s camp.
The president turned to Allen. ‘Now you have your opportunity to answer these serious allegations. Were you present at the Norwich rebellion?’
‘Yes, I, …’
‘And were you there of your own free will?’
‘I was present as a loyal subject of his majesty,’ Allen blustered.
‘To what intent?’
‘To restrain the poor people the deceiver Kett was leading in rebellion.’
The president held up Allen’s broadside. ‘Then what say you to this inflammatory document?’
‘’Tis a damnable forgery!’ Allen shouted. He raised both hands to point at me. ‘That man is a traitor and a ruffian. More than once he and his copesmates have assaulted me most violently.’ He took a step forward but was immediately restrained by the guards. But he continued to shout, his voice growing steadily more shrill. ‘Your Honour, listen not to this tradesman! I am known to great scholars, and noblemen and members of his majesty’s household. I have done them many services. They will speak for me’
‘Silence!’ The magistrate rose to his feet. ‘You will answer my questions when I bid you and only when I bid you.’ He turned to me. ‘Master Treviot, we are grateful to you for your time and need detain you no longer.’
Morice left the room with me. ‘Excellently done, Thomas. Your evidence was all we needed to have him detained in the Tower.’ He shook my hand. ‘I must stay to the end of the hearing but his grace’s barge is at your command.’
‘Send me word of what happens. With Allen discredited we must surely see poor West released.’
I walked down to the quay. A few steps from the archbishop’s barge I heard my name called. Turning I saw a tall man expensively dressed in black court clothes. He had been present at the interrogation.
‘You return to the City?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Then please allow me to convey you in my boat.’
‘That is good of you but his grace has been kind enough to …’
I suddenly felt something sharp pressing against my lower ribs. Looking down I saw that the stranger was holding a long-bladed stiletto.’
‘I am afraid I must insist,’ he said.
Chapter 18
My first reaction was to turn and run back to the palace. Then I saw that the man in black had two companions, rough-looking fellows in riding boots and leather jerkins. All I could do was bluster a useless protest. ‘What is the meaning of this?’
In fact, the meaning seemed quite clear: these were friends of Allen, intent on exacting revenge for my part in his arrest and ensuring that I would never be able to repeat my testimony.
My captor nudged me forward. ‘My boat is at the end of the quay. Pray, Master Treviot, be not alarmed. I simply want to have a conversation with you. A private conversation.’
The craft I was handed down into was a broad-beamed wherry, somewhat larger than those used by Thames watermen. It occurred to me to leap over the side, swim a few yards and call for help but there was no-one in view at the landing stage and my abductor sat beside me with a hand firmly clamped to my arm. His accomplices manned the oars and steered the boat out onto the river. London’s main thoroughfare was, as usual, busy with traffic. Were these men, I wondered desperate enough or foolish enough to slit my throat and dump my body overboard in front of so many witnesses?
‘Please do not think of calling out,’ the man beside me said quietly. ‘I assure you there is no need. We only wish to talk with you. After that, we will deliver you to Queenhythe. Alive,’ he added with a light laugh.
Moments later, he called out an order. ‘This will do.’
His companions stopped rowing and used their oars to hold the wherry’s position against the current. We were in mid-steam on the broad bend half way between Whitehall and the Bridge. We could see clearly the site, alive with workmen, where Somerset House, the duke’s large, new residence was being built.
‘You are a remarkable man, Master Treviot,’ said the man in black. ‘On the surface a successful, highly respected London merchant, a confidant of some of the greatest in the land. I confess I was curious to meet you and – I admit it – something sceptical. “Could this staid citizen,” I asked myself, “really be a trusted agent of his majesty’s council, a daring adventurer who relishes danger, a thinker of brilliant intellect, adept at solving puzzles and unravelling secrets.” But when I heard you describing your encounter with Master Allen, all my doubts dissolved like morning mist.’
‘You have not committed this outrage in order to flatter me,’ I protested.
‘Indeed not and I regret the dramatic means I employed to engineer this interview. However, I doubt very much whether you would have responded positively to a simple request.’
‘That would depend on the nature of the request. I would be obliged if we could get to the point of this meeting.’
‘There you are, you see, that proves the accuracy of my judgement. You go straight to the heart of the matter. You sit here in this apparently precarious situation but you banish fear and, with a cool head, you tell yourself, “I must find out what this fellow wants.” Very well, Master Treviot, the point is this: we wish to employ you.’
‘And who are “we”?’
Again the light laugh. ‘You are too intelligent to expect a straight answer to that question. We have observed that various attempts – some rather crude – have been made to discourage you from dabbling in what might, rather grandly, be called “affairs of state”. They have all been unsuccessful. You are not a man who gives up once he had undertaken a task.’
‘If the task is honourable and just.’
He ignored the caveat. ‘You obviously cannot be removed from the business of Master West and the obnoxious creature who calls himself “Parafaustus”. Moreover, it would be a waste of considerable talent simply to murder you here and slip you into the Thames.’
‘And also very risky,’ I pointed out.
‘That is why we have decided to make use of your considerable talents. We want you to work for us.’
‘Oh, really!’ I tried to manage a scornful laugh. ‘If this is your usual way of conducting business I want nothing to do with you.’
‘You have not yet heard what we are asking of you.’
‘Whatever it is, I am not interested.’
He continued as if Ii had not spoken. ‘Your son has a position in the Earl of Warwick’s household. Doubtless, he hears much about his lordship’s plans. He observes some of the people who call upon his lordship. He hears servant gossip. He enjoys the company of his lordship’s sons. Now, we would very much like to be recipients of such information.’
‘What?’ The monstrous demand caught me off guard. It was some moments before I could frame a reply. ‘Out of the question! I am no man’s spy and I certainly will not force my son to become one!’
My abductor continued in the same quiet infuriatingly self-confident tone. ‘We were confident that this would be your immediate reaction – that you would need some persuasion. We have, therefore, prepared very carefully for this eventuality. Two weeks ago you received a box of jewels from an old customer, a noble lady of impeccable pedigree. She sent the casket with a note asking you to buy these trinkets. This you were happy to do, knowing that you would have little difficulty disposing of the items to other members of your clientele. You would either sell them on as they were or have them re-fashioned in your workshop.’
‘You are damnably well informed but I have no reason to deny what you say.’
‘What you would certainly want to deny is that four of those gewgaws were stolen and that you have already resold two of them.’
