Assassin (13 page)

Last time I was interrupted it was Mrs. Champernowne bustling in.

“Wherever did you go, child?” she wanted to know. “The Queen was asking for you.”

“I … went for a walk,” I said, hoping it didn’t sound as silly to her as it did to me, “around the palace. The Queen did say I could—”

“I think you have been treated very gently, Lady Grace,” said Mrs. Champernowne severely. “There
had better be no more trouble from you. Now get your kirtle on and attend Her Majesty at supper.”

Lord Worthy was dining with the Queen again but this time I wasn’t invited. I just brought the Queen’s wine when she beckoned me and held a napkin for her to dry her fingers after she rinsed them. The Queen was quite distant to me, and I was desperate to let her know what I’d discovered. I wondered how Masou was getting on. Was he back yet? Was he safe? I chewed a fingernail nervously, and Her Majesty told me off.

The tumblers came in and, thank the Lord, Masou was among them, walking in on his hands and backwards somersaulting onto his feet. He stared at me and winked, so I could hardly wait until I had an excuse to leave the Queen’s side. At last I had to go down to the buttery to refill a pitcher with ale. The jugglers and tumblers were there, drinking thirstily. Masou made a great flourish of taking the pitcher and filling it at the barrel for me. Then we went into a little alcove and Masou told me the story.

“I followed Sir Charles …,” Masou said, and mimed tiptoeing after him, dodging from tree to tree.

“It’s really his brother Hector,” I corrected him.

Masou rolled his eyes. “Who is telling this story?” he demanded. I smiled and gestured to him and he made an elaborate bow. “So I followed the Evil Brother to the Palace of Horses, praying to Allah that he would not take a horse to visit the Unfortunate One. Allah be praised, he did not. He scowled about at the grooms for a while and then went down to the watersteps and shouted, ‘Oars!’ A black ship with black sails, rowed by a green serpent, came. He stepped aboard and the snake rowed him away towards London town.

“After the black ship had departed, I shouted, too, and lo! a golden barque with a ruby sail appeared, rowed by a yellow serpent, who said, ‘What is your desire, O Prince of Acrobats?’ I jumped aboard and beseeched the serpent to follow the Evil Brother’s boat, at which he transformed to an ugly djinni and said, ‘Then pay sixpence for it.’ Alas, nothing would do but that I must pay, and so he rowed and followed the Evil Brother to some steps which shone with silver and gold and led to a fair garden and little stone houses. Here I paid the djinni and crept ashore. I hid in a wondrous bush that covered me like a Cloak of Invisibility while the Evil Brother went to one of the houses and knocked
on the door. It was opened by another evil one, with blood on his knuckles. I did not see the Unfortunate One but he was there, for so I heard Evil Brother say. And then, in great fear lest he find me, I went back down the steps and looked for a boat. At last I came across a little cockleshell with a cobweb sail steered by a monkey, who took me aboard when I begged him. And so I came back unto the Court just in time to tumble for the Queen.”

Masou swept another bow and then stood with his arms folded looking very stern. I clapped. “What a wonderful story!” I said. “Is any of it true?”

“Certainly, in essence,” said Masou, grinning. “I think the Unfortunate One is imprisoned in one of the little cottages of St. Mary Rounceval churchyard.”

“We will have to go there tonight,” I decided. My heart was sinking at what the Queen might say, but what else could we do? “Is there any way we could get in without the guard knowing?”

Masou thought hard. “There are windows—I think they are glass, quite small, but I think I could pass. Yes, it can be done. But, my lady, it would be very dangerous—”

“Then we’ll do it,” I said. “Can you arrange for a boat?”

Masou bowed with his two hands crossed on his
chest. “I am my lady’s to command,” he said, and cartwheeled away.

I hurried back to the Withdrawing Room with the pitcher and then put my hand to my head and curtsied to the Queen, explaining in front of everyone that I had a megrim from the excitement of the last few days and asking if I could go to my bed.

Her Majesty didn’t quite believe me, I could see that, but she let me go.

Once again I had to wait, lying stiff as a board with fright and excitement with a smock over my hunting kirtle, until Mary and Lady Sarah were back from attending the Queen—except Mary came back but there was no sign of Lady Sarah at all. Oh, well, I thought, I can tell on her if she tells on me.

I crept out while Mary snored, and tiptoed down the passageway to the Orchard door, where Masou and Ellie were waiting.

“Did you bring money?” asked Masou. “We must pay for the boat.”

I had a few pennies. We threaded through the palace, dodging serving men and night-wandering courtiers, to the watersteps. Masou whistled softly, and a boat rowed close. It wasn’t a normal Thames wherry; it was tiny, with a little sail and a scrawny boy about Masou’s age rowing it.

“Who’s he?” I hissed. “Is that the monkey in the cockleshell?”

“My lady, may I present my friend Kersey,” said Masou with a flourish. “Kersey, this is the Lady Grace I told you about.”

“What did you tell him?” I whispered.

Masou shrugged innocently.

The boy in the boat drew the oars in, snatched off his greasy cap, and made a bow. “Honoured, lady,” he said. “Sorry I din’t believe you, Masou. Come aboard, ladies,” he added, winking at Ellie.

Ellie sniffed. “Don’t you go calling me a lady,” she said sternly as she hopped in and I followed. “I’m here for to attend on my lady and save her reputation.”

Masou elbowed me, and I pulled out my purse and gave Kersey all my pennies. He grunted and put them away in his sleeve, then coughed and looked embarrassed. “See, lady, Masou told me you was one of the Queen’s Ladies-in-Waiting…”

“I’m a Maid of Honour,” I said, wishing Masou could have kept his mouth shut.

“Right, Maid of Honour, and wot he said is that you get to see the Queen every day and she speaks to you.”

“Yes, that’s true,” I admitted.

“I met the Queen once,” Kersey said. “She was wearing all silver and black velvet and with diamonds in her hair and I held the boat for her when she went on her barge—’cos me dad’s one of the relief bargemen—and squashed me thumb and she gave me her kerchief to bind it up and said she hoped as it would be better soon. She’s wonderful, isn’t she? Just gave me her own kerchief and said—”

“She’s very kind to people who look after her,” I agreed.

Kersey was rowing us along the northern bank of the Thames, dodging some of the dangerous eddies. He seemed more interested in talking than rowing, though, which worried me. “I wish I could see her every day like you.” His face was shining with adoration. “How do you get to be a courtier?” he asked.

“Well, you have to be rich, or rich enough to pretend to be rich,” I replied.

Kersey nodded. “How rich is that?”

“A velvet suit costs a hundred pounds, for a cheap one,” I told him. He gasped, and shut up.

Masou tapped the side of the boat and Kersey rowed it close up to the shining, slimy wall of some houses near the water’s edge. There was a row of windows overlooking the water, and watersteps going up to a gate.

“That is the cottage where Sir Charles is being held,” whispered Masou, pointing to a house at the far end of the row. “There’s a man guarding the door, so I will have to break in at the back.”

Kersey was tying his craft up tight to the wall by a ring.

“I want to get up to that ledge there,” said Masou, gesturing towards the windows. “And I need a diamond ring.”

“Why?” asked Ellie.

Masou grinned, with a flash of white teeth. “For the reason that only diamond is of enough hardness to cut glass,” he explained.

“Hmph,” said Ellie.

There were diamonds in the pearl ring my mother gave me. I hesitated and then gave it to Masou.

He smiled at me because I could have said no, it was too valuable. “Now, it’s fine that you are tall,” he said to me. “But I hope you are strong, too. You must give me a lift up.”

“Standing on the boat?” I asked.

“Yes. I could not use a ladder—too rigid,” Masou explained.

Kersey was tying the other end of the boat to another ring.

“But—” I began.

“Kersey and Ellie will hold you steady. All you need do is stand firm and I shall climb you like a living tree.”

Firm? On a boat? I saw a bit of stone sticking out and I leaned over and grabbed it.

“Good,” Masou said, and sprang onto my back. He is quite small and very lithe, but he is also heavy. I went “Ooof!” and nearly fell down.

“I told you it should be me,” sniffed Ellie. “I’m stronger.”

“But not tall enough,” said Masou, fitting one foot onto my shoulder. “There, it’s just enough.”

The boat creaked and tilted sideways. Masou climbed on my other shoulder and balanced. It hurt! My shoulders felt like they would break; there was a sort of bounce and then the weight was off.

Masou was crouched on the ledge, peering through the window. He muttered in disappointment, reached round a piece of wall, and slid onto the next windowsill. Another grunt. Ellie and I were staring at him, really scared that all the adventure was for nothing. I noticed that Masou had something long wrapped in cloth and slung across his back, and I wondered what it was.

He slid along and reached for the next window, peered through, and said, “Hah! Allah be praised.”

He crouched there for what seemed a long time and there was a dreadful scraping screeching noise, which must have been the diamond cutting glass, then a tapping. A big piece of window came out, held by Masou with his fingers and a knife, and he threw it down into the Thames. Then he reached in, found a latch, and opened the window. He uncoiled a rope from round his waist and tied one end to the window post. “Climb up by the rope now, Lady Grace,” he called softly down to me.

I wasn’t sure how to do it, but Masou told me to wrap it round my waist and pull myself up by my arms, putting my toes into the cracks in the wall. It was very slimy and slippery. I nearly went in the water twice, but I managed to get up on the ledge and crouch there, my heart going
bam-da-da-bam!
like a drum at a dance.

Masou moved the rope so it hung into the room, then dropped down. I followed. There was soft straw, a dreadful smell of damp, an unemptied chamberpot, and a rather fat man lying huddled up in a cloak in the corner.

I went over to him and touched him on the shoulder.
He snorted, and jumped awake with his fists up. I backed into the corner.

“Who? What?” he shouted angrily.

“Sir Charles?” I asked, because I wasn’t sure. Masou was busy with a tinder box. He lit a candle and then I saw it definitely was Sir Charles, though he looked terrible. His beard was untrimmed and his hair was standing on end. He was in his shirtsleeves with the cloak wrapped around him and he had a nasty black eye as well.

“Good heavens, Lady Grace, what in the name of God … ?” His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Did my brother bring you?”

“No.” I scowled at that. “I don’t know what sort of brother he is, but
we’ve
come to rescue you.”

I practically gabbled as I told him what we’d found out and how we came to help, and he shook his head as if bewildered. Meanwhile, Masou had unslung the thing on his back and was unwrapping it.

Masou bowed. “Sir, I think the window is too small for you, but I brought this.” He handed Sir Charles the long poignard dagger he had brought with him.

Sir Charles gripped the hilt, tested the blade, then
shook his head. “I can’t leave. Look.” He lifted one of his feet and we saw there was a manacle round his ankle and a short chain stapled to the wall.

Masou smiled again and brought out a little wallet which had hooks and files in it. He checked the ring around Sir Charles’s ankle while I listened at the locked door to make sure the man guarding it hadn’t heard anything. There was a series of scraping noises and then a brisk sound of filing. At last I heard a click, and next moment Sir Charles was standing up with the poignard in his hand. Even though he was a fat old man, he looked very angry and quite frightening. “Pray, now, climb back out of the window,” he ordered.

“But, Sir Charles, we can help you …,” I began.

“Lady Grace, this is not a sight for you. I will meet you at the watersteps,” he replied firmly.

Masou bowed to Sir Charles and held the rope for me to climb up, which was even more difficult the second time because my hands were so sore.

We dropped back into the boat and waited.

Suddenly we heard banging and screaming from Sir Charles. “Help! Help! I’m choking … arghh…”

It didn’t sound very realistic but there was the sound of a door being unlocked and then Stevens’s
voice. “Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time, you—”

There was a thud, a scuffle, a horrible sort of crunching noise, a short cry—and then silence. A few minutes later we could hear Sir Charles breathing hard on the watersteps and see his broad silhouette there.

He got down carefully into the boat, which was distinctly overloaded with all of us, and washed the poignard and his hands in the water. Then he offered the blade back to Masou, who shook his head. Nobody said anything. In truth, I felt a bit sick.

Kersey rowed us all slowly and carefully back upriver to Whitehall, which took longer because the current was against him.

“What happened to you, Sir Charles?” I asked, so I wouldn’t think about my queasy stomach and how close the water was as we struggled slowly upstream.

Sir Charles turned to me. “My lady, all I know is that I went for a nap after our ride on the day of the St. Valentine’s Feast and woke up in that foul place with a chain on my leg,” he said. “I could scarce believe it possible, and yet my twin brother was there, demanding to know where my papers were
and what my business dealings were at the Royal Exchange.” Sir Charles wiped his brow—he was sweating heavily, even though there was a chill in the air. “My twin brother, Hector, always hated me—even though I gave him money whenever he asked for it—I thought he was in France fighting the Papists. And then I had word that he was dead, as I told you. But there he was, threatening me with starvation and worse if I did not do as he demanded. Of course, I did not, as I
knew
I would then be a dead man for certain. But then he sent his henchman to threaten me and strike me—”