Kathryn Kramer (29 page)

"They are tacked up all over
Bath.  This time with a sketch of you that clearly gives you away. At the stables.  On the door of the inn.  Even near the water pumps. Someone has alerted the authorities of your presence among us, Christopher.  Somehow they know."  Taking off his hat, Murray wrung it in his hands.  "Oh dear.  Oh dear! What is to become of us all?"

Alandra tugged him down to sit on the grass beside her.  "Calm yourself, Father."   As if she herself could be composed at the moment, she thought wryly.

"They know, you say.  Exactly what do you mean?"  Even as he asked, Nicholas knew the answer.  Will Frizer had finally put two and two together and realized why he had been chased that day and by whom.  Undoubtedly, the reason Nicholas had been unable to find him at Dover was because the weasel had moved on to put his evil lord on Nicholas's tracks.

"Woe is me.  Woe is me.  Whatever can we do?" 
Murray rocked back and forth on his heels. "Will is even now being questioned. But he will not say a word, Christopher. Shakespeare is ever a man to be trusted."

"Questioned?  By who?"  As if he didn't know.

"Fancily dressed noblemen who looked to be members of the court."

"The queen's guard, no doubt!  Or
Stafford's men!" Nicholas damned his stupidity in having followed Will Frizer that day.  In his bravado, he had given himself away.  Now the game was up.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Murray had not exaggerated. Danger hung in the air like the quiet before a storm. Armed men swarmed over Bath like ants to a discarded morsel of food.  Cresting the top of the small hill Nicholas could see them from afar.  Worst of all they wore the red and black that were Stafford's colors and not the Tudor green and white.  Nicholas was certain that if he were caught he would not live out the day.  Stafford would not give him the chance to prove his innocence.

"Christopher, look!"  Coming up behind him Alandra pointed to three guardsman that were headed their direction.

"Bloody hell!"  He was filled with a compulsion to flee, but shook his head angrily. It would be walking directly into the trap.  Intuitively, he knew it would be far better to outwit Owen Stafford than to try to outrun him.   Stafford would be expecting him to try and leave the town,  Worse yet, were Nicholas captured it would bode ill for the Lord Chamberlain's players and Alandra.  Above all he didn't want that.

"Oh, Christopher, what are we going to do?"  Alandra's heart was in her throat as she squeezed Nicholas's hand.  "I don't think that pretending to be an old man and his expectant wife will help you this time." 

"No, if they suspect me to be among the actors, they will be prepared for any disguise.  I believe my only chance is to become invisible. Oh that I had magic at my disposal!"  He tried to make light of his mounting apprehension.  "You don't happen to have an enchanted cloak hidden among your costumes do you, Murray?  A garment that will let me walk the streets unobserved."

The old man groaned.  "No, I do not.  Oh, that I
were
a wizard that I could give you such aid.  Nevertheless you must remain unseen."

"Hide, you mean!"  But where?  He couldn't remain where he was.  The foliage and sh
rubbery weren't thick enough to conceal him for long., and he certainly couldn't go in to town, not when it was crawling with Stafford's men. 

It was a terrible predicament. Owen Stafford
  would organize a thorough inspection of Bath.  He would search out every inn, all the stables, each and every house,  look behind every tree, under every rock and even inspect the bubbling pools of water that had given the town its name.  Nor was there much chance that he would  believe Shakespeare when he denied Nicholas's presence amidst the players.

"What the devil am I to do?"  Nicholas aimed his question at
Murray and was unnerved when the little man suddenly scurried away.  Was it to be every man for himself then?

A
s quickly as he had run off, Murray returned, at the reins of his wagon. "We'll use this!  Climb in and I will guide it back towards the inn."

"The wagon," Nicholas scoffed.  "Forsooth, do you really think they would not search it?"  Whereas once it had been the perfect hiding place
, now it would be far too obvious.

"From back to front and side to side, but......" 
Murray cleared his throat--"beneath the wagon, between the wheels there is a hidden compartment that none, save Alandra know about."

"A hidden compartment?"

Reaching under the wagon's tongue, Murray fumbled about for a small latch.  "About the size of a coffin.  It will be snug and more than a bit uncomfortable, but the perfect place for concealment, at least until the immediate danger is over."  Fidgeting to get the trap door open  he confided,  "In my younger days I fear there were times when I was not adverse to doing a bit  of smuggling now and again."

"Smuggling....."  It seemed so out of character for Murray who had proven to Nicholas that he was the most honest of men.

"Aye. Before I turned to the theatre, I used this old wagon to carry contraband goods for some of the London merchants.  Merchandise whose importation was forbidden."  Murray shrugged, the corners of his mouth trembling as he tried to decide whether to frown or smile.       "It was in my wilder days. My youth.  You see I wasn't always an old man."

"Indeed not!"  For just a moment Nicholas caught a glimpse of the
lad that lived inside the man. An adventurous fellow.

"Now that hidden compartment might very well save you, Christopher,"
Murray said hopefully, prodding at Nicholas to get him to crawl inside. 

“We will return  to the inn and I warrant you will be safe, even if you  are right under
their noses.”

And indeed it
was true, for though Owen Stafford's men combed through the entire town of Bath including the actors' rooms at the inn, though they left hardly a stone unturned,  including a thorough search of the wagon, they did not find Nicholas. 

"That oaf Will Frazier must be daft."

"Or a liar."

"Or both,"
Nicholas heard three of Stafford's soldiers say as he lay still in his cramped quarters.  Luckily for him they had no idea how very close they were to his hiding place, nor did they realize that at this very moment he could see the toes of their boots through the small wooden slats in the wagon.

"All of the actors have been questioned, even threatened with the rack and not a one of them even blinked an eye.  Their voices rang with sincerity when they said they didn't know what we were talking about.  Not a one of them knew a man named Sir Nicholas Leighton, or so they insisted. "

"They are actors!  Did you really expect them to give themselves away even if they were hiding that fugitive?"

"I say they were telling the truth.  If not
,then surely at least one of them would have handed him over to us.  For the money, Edward."

"And yet that Shakespeare fellow did seem to be secretly laughing at us all the while."

"He was good natured, nothing more.  I tell you Frazier made up the whole story in hopes of getting the reward Stafford  put on Leighton's carcass.  We have come a long way and wasted our time for little or no reason."

"Aye, it is Frazier who should be brought back to
London in chains."  All three men grumbled their complaints, then when their frustration had been spent, they ambled away.

So, the actors had staunchly defended him, Nicholas thought.  Bless them, each and every one
,  for they surely had recognized Christopher Nicholas as Sir Nicholas Leighton from the broadsides that were all over town.  If he hadn't known it before, he now was assured that Will Shakespeare, Will Kempe, Burbage, Lowin and the others were his friends.   Nicholas knew he would never forget such loyalty and vowed that some day he would do them a like favor. 

His gratitude
intensified when he at last came face-to-face with the players. Will Shakespeare had called an emergency meeting in his quarters as soon as the armed guardsmen had vacated the area.  As a precaution, lest the soldiers return, he had posted four of the younger actors as lookouts in the hallway, at the front door, back door and in the loft of the stable.  Shrouding all the windows of his room in bed sheets,  Shakespeare securely locked his door and windows, then turned to address all those seated in the crowded room.

"You know why I have asked you to come here."  There was a mumble of assent.  "One of ours is in trouble and thus we must decide what to do about it."

"Do?"  John Lowin bounded to his feet.  "There is only one thing we can do!  Stand behind Christopher.  Give him our aid."

"Stand behind him," Robert Armin cried out, raising his fist above his head as he stood up.

"I do not for one moment believe the charges.  Murder a man? Christopher?  Ha.  It is obviously a blatant lie!"  Lowin added.

"I did
not
kill Lord Woodcliffe,"  Nicholas cried out from his seat in the far corner.  "I give you my word as a gentleman on that."

"You see, he is innocent," Shakespeare confirmed, as if to assure all those  who had gathered there.   A nodding of heads agreed.  "It is quite clear to me
that our friend and fellow company member is  the victim."  Briefly Will gave an account of what had happened, based on Murray's explanation of events. "To put it quite simply, it is a case of jealousy and ambition.  A man of renown was murdered, it is true, but not by our Christopher.  Instead, it would appear to me that the perpetrator of the deed was none other than he who cries out for punishment."

"Aye he is the real culprit," Will Kempe exclaimed, for once making no attempt at poking fun at the situation.  He was deadly serious as he added his voice to the decision to defend Christopher.

Only John Heminges seemed to have reservations. "It would not be the first time a man has been accused of something he did not do, but think about the repercussions our involvement might have if we are mixed up in this.  Our careers will all be ruined, nay perhaps our very lives.  Lord Owen Stafford is a very powerful man and has much influence with Elizabeth. After all, we only have Christopher’s word that he isn’t a murderer. He has no proof so perhaps then it would be better for....for Christopher to leave the players!"

"Leave?  Leave?  And go where, pray tell?"  Robert Armin asked angrily.

"Anywhere but here!"  Heminges answered quickly.  "Forsooth, he will bring wrath and ruin down upon our heads."

"You sound like a coward, Heminges.  I tell you 't
is not our way.  We may be only actors, but I would hope that each and every one of us is courageous in his own way."  John Lowin was incensed and proved it by lunging at the company's business manager.

Heminges drew back, his expression stating that he knew he might have gone too far.  "But
...but think about our finances......."

"To the devil with your coffers!"  Robert Armin shouted.  "I only know that we must do what is right.  It has always been our
policy to protect all members of Lord Chamberlain's Men as staunchly as if we were family."

             
"Aye!  We must do whatever it takes...."  Murray reached over to pat Nicholas on the shoulder.

Richard Burbage pushed forward to take his place beside Will Shakespeare.  "Indeed we must!" As if he were giving a soliloquy
, he lapsed into a dramatic monologue enumerating a man's responsibilities to his friends and companions. "And, were any one of us faced with the same adversity, I have little doubt but that Christopher, or Sir Nicholas Leighton as we now know him to be, would come at once to our aid."  As he spoke, he gestured with an exaggerated theatrical movement that displayed his long-fingered hands.  "He would not hesitate!  How then can we do other than give him our support and our help to prove he’s innocent?  Nay, even if it comes to battling this Lord Stafford himself."             

William Sly man
euvered his stocky form to take  his place beside the other actors. "Quoting the words I spoke in Will’s play
Henry VI
, we will fight til the last gasp!"

In light of the actors' mood Heminges was forced to lay aside his arguments.  "Then we are unanimous I suppose."  There was a long silence, then he forced a smile in Nicholas's direction.  "You heard the decision.  You are welcome to stay despite what has happened."

Nicholas stood up, deeply moved by his friends' loyalty.  "You will not be sorry!  That I vow.  When this wrong is righted, I will see that each and every one of you reaps a reward!"

His promise caused Heminges' mood to brighten as if calculating a monetary recompense.  "Then by all means let us hope that circumstances dictate a speedy justice to your predicament."

"Which brings me to a point," Shakespeare cut in.  "I propose that we do more than give Christopher sanctuary.  Let us, each and every one, keep an eye out for this scoundrel Will Frazier.  It appears that he is the key to proving Christopher's innocence."

"Of course!"  Lowen stroked his mustache.  "If we could capture the rascal
, we might be able to force a confession from him."

"Aye
, if I know human nature," Shakespeare interjected,  "and I do, he will haunt our audience in hopes of catching sight of Christopher again.  Methinks this Frazier will have to prove to his patron that he did not lie or imagine he saw Christopher. Ah yes, he will come to see our performance, on that I have no doubt.  And when he does we will seize
him
.  'Tis then the truth will come to light."

The suggestion caused the actors to lapse into a frenzy of plots and plans
, but Shakespeare held up his hand for silence. "I already know exactly what we should do." Elbowing his way through the tightly packed room, he tapped ten of the lesser actors on the shoulder.  "I dub you groundlings!"

"Groundlings, of course!"  Nicholas knew at once what Shakespeare planned.  Those chosen would be disguised as members of the audience and would mingle with the people watching the play.  "And since I would recognize Frazier in a
n instant I too will be part of your scheme."

"As will I!"  Will Kempe hunkered down, amusing the others with his imitation of the cursing, apple-eating, nut-cracking oafs wh
o so incensed him at times.  "It will be our greatest performance of the season."