Kathryn Kramer (40 page)

"The laidy has used bribery, she 'as.  She's gotten the key
to the bloke’s cell and learned the routine of the warder by 'eart.  The bloke will walk right out the doors of the Tower right after  sundown, 'e will, leaving behind a straw and cloth dummy, just so's the warder won't be suspicious.  My part was ter lead him to the boat where Tom Banter will be waiting.  Once clear of the Tower's guards Banter will slash 'im through and through, put his corpse in a sack and throw him over the side.  The laidy who 'ired the deed done wants the Queen to think he flew the coup again and that he sailed for far off lands......"

Shakespeare didn't wait to hear more. With all the valor of the heroes of his plays
, he shouted out his commands.  Forgetting about her summons to Elizabeth's court, Alandra hurried down from the litter to join the actors as they scurried from the courtyard.                                           

Chapter Fifty-Three

Nicholas stared out the tiny barred window through the gathering gloom.  Although the fortress seemed impenetrable, he would soon be leaving here with Morgana's help.  That thought gave him a heady feeling, the deepest satisfaction.  In preparation for the evening's events he had studied the pattern of the warder's comings and goings, noting that there was at least a three quarters of an hour's stretch between his third and fourth rounds when he visited an influential prisoner to play at chess.  More than enough time for Nicholas to be well clear of these walls.

But that was just the beginning.  There were four checkpoints in all and each had to be passed without his being seen.  Bulwark Gate and the Lion, Middle and Byward towers.  The night was particularly dark without a moon
, thus he hoped that with the aid of a dark cloak he would have at least a chance.  If he got free, Morgana had informed him that a young lad would be waiting for them by the wall to lead him toward a boat.  It sounded so simple, so foolproof that he really thought with proper timing his escape could be accomplished.  

With that optimistic thought in mind he walked to the grille of the wooden door and looked out.  The warder had finished his rounds, now it was time for the count down.
Nicholas counted to ten before he moved to the bed.  Casting a final cautious look toward the window, he reached underneath the mattress and pulled out the dummy.  He positioned it at just the right angle in the chair, bending it slightly forward and stepped back, marveling at how truly human it looked when viewed in the shadows.   Just as he must look.

"Time to take my place, my good man," he said, with a mock bow, feeling light of heart for the first time since his arrival at the Tower.

Nicholas knelt in the shadows, waiting for the sound that would herald the beginning of his escape, growing more and more impatient as the time passed on.  Where was Morgana?  What was taking her so long?  Frustration coiled in his belly as he began to think she had changed her mind.  He heard footsteps and nearly called out her name until he realized the thudding trod was much too heavy for a woman's footfall.

The warder
---Vickery!  He was early! With a mumbled oath,  Nicholas scrambled to find a hiding place, choosing to duck behind a large leather chair.  The door swung open just as he concealed himself, revealing the warder bearing a tray.

"
I’ve come to ask again if you’d like a game of chess. I’ve brought you a glass of ale to cheer you up.” Vickery waited for a response from the prisoner, but of course , heard not a word from the still figure by the window.

The door was ajar,
and the warder's back was towards Nicholas as the man advanced toward the table.  A perfect set up for escape.  A chance Nicholas couldn't deny himself, particularly since it was all too probable that the warder would discover the dummy.  Taking a deep breath Nicholas bounded from his concealment, rounded the door and silently sped down the stairs.

The
Tower was a  maze of stairs and doors.  Nicholas ran down one hall, frantically searching for a way out, only to find he was going in circles.  Cursing, mumbling, he tried to quell his panic, retracing his steps, trying another door, then another.  At last he was successful and emerged into the glorious fresh air.  The feel of freedom momentarily made his senses reel. 

But his feeling of euphoria was short lived.  The sentries paced near by, guarding gateway and walls, preventing a quick dash for freedom.  One cry and the whole tower would be swarming with guardsman. 

Approaching the Byward archway Nicholas tried to recall the layout of the tower as best he could from his school days.  Guardrooms were on each side within the thickness of the archway, and beyond the right-hand one was a side entrance leading out on to the wharf.  Sally Port, traditionally the royal entrance.  Persons of importance disembarked at the King's Steps and then, crossing the wharf entered via the Sally Port, thus by-passing the gates and main drawbridges.  But it was always guarded.

Unable to grab his cloak as he had run from his cell, Nicholas needed one to shield him. He picked up a large
, loose stone then hid in the shadows.  By now the warder would have discovered the dummy.  Every minute counted now, nay every second.  Then as if in answer to his prayers he heard the sound of boots.  A man, obviously a workman, passed by right where Nicholas was concealed.  The stone descended, the man collapsed on the ground, and Nicholas had his cloak.  Added to his good fortune was the fact that the guard to Sally Port was nowhere to be seen.

With the greatest of self-control Nicholas forced himself to maintain a leisurely pace.  Hardly daring to breathe he turned right, and passing through the two ancient doorways, traversed the little drawbridge and emerged on to the wharf.  His every sense was on edge, waiting for a sudden shout, a pounding of feet.  But none came.

"Nicholas, you old dog, you've done it!"   He congratulated himself over and over again.

His crow of victory was befouled, however, when he heard a woman's voice ask, "Who is there?" 

Nicholas turned around coming face to face with a woman all swathed in black.  Only the eyes showed.  Blue eyes that were staring at him in astonishment.

"Who are you?"

His heart sank in dismay until he realized it was the sound of Morgana's voice.  "Thank God it is you!"  He nearly felt like hugging her he was so glad to see her face.  Now he would no longer have to complete his escape all alone.

"Nicholas!"  She was rightfully astounded.  "How on earth......."

"I couldn't wait."

"Obviously."  She sounded annoyed.  "I couldn't help being late.  That damnable boy!  He never showed up.  Just wait until I see him.  I'll box his ear
s."  Taking Nicholas by the arm, she tried to calm her storm of anger.  "But never mind.  His absence can't upset our plans.  I know right where the boat is waiting.  I'll take you there."

It was ridiculously easy, made more
so because of Morgana being by his side.  Neither of the two guards they passed even stopped to question them.

"I hope the boat is waiting," Nicholas whispered, giving Morgana's hand a fond squeeze.

"It is."

As they passed by the last obstacle
, Nicholas could see the outline of the stern and prow.   A  boat rocked in the water.

"Morgana, I'll never know how to thank you."  Nic
holas said, expressing his gratitude.

"A kiss for old times," she said softly.

How could he refuse?  Smoothing back her veil, Nicholas pressed a kiss against her lips, one more of fondness than of passion. 

Morgana clung to him, her mouth seeking and demanding as it closed over his.  It was a long caress of lips and tongue that she seemed reluctant to break.  She was breathless as she pulled away.
"Oh, Nicholas." 

Was there regret in her voice?  Nicholas assumed it to be because of what might have been.

"We'll meet again, Morgana.  I'll find a way to make Elizabeth listen to my explanation and to clear you of any wrongdoing, as well.  In the meantime I sincerely make a wish for your happiness.  I want you to find the right man, I really do." 

Then as
he moved towards the boat, Morgana disappeared into the Tower. For a moment he hesitated as he watched her go, then continued his path down the steps, but a gut-wrenching scream halted him.

"Christophe
r!  Step back!"  Alandra shouted.  "It's a trap.  The man in the boat is Tom Banter.  He's here to kill you!"

A large dark, hulking figure emerged from the shadows just as the boat pulled alongside the quay.  Hurling through the air like a demon
from the boat  and landing on the wharf, the man lunged at Nicholas with a knife.   Nicholas staggered back but did not fall.  He maintained his balance, cursing beneath his breath that he was unarmed.  It would be far from a well-matched fight, yet he remembered a trick or two.

"Christopher, can we help?"  One, two, three, then four silhouettes materialized out of the darkness.  Shakespeare, Kempe, Murray and Armin.

"Just stay out of my way, or better yet give me something to fight this brute with," he demanded.

From the corner of his eye
, Nicholas saw the men hurriedly pulling out their weapons. In the meantime he took off his cloak, wound it around his arm and used it as a shield against his opponent's slashing knife.  Sidestepping Tom Banter again and again, he waited for a chance to turn the other man's lack of wits against him and was rewarded, hearing the knife clatter to the ground as he snapped his coat at his adversary's wrist.  But even unarmed, Tom Banter was ruthless.  Like a mad dog he sprang forward,  catching Nicholas on the chin with a punishing blow.  It gave him just enough time to retrieve his knife.

Sweeping
forward in a graceful move, Shakespeare attacked Tom Banter from behind.  His unexpected action spoiled the murderer's aim, thereby saving Nicholas from suffering a mortal wound.  Hastily, Shakespeare pushed a rapier into Nicholas's hands, the kind the actor's used for fencing.  It was not the sharpest or sturdiest of rapiers, but it worked wonders when wielded by Nicholas' skill.

It was a furious battle, at test of strength and prowess.  Nicholas did not dare to take his eyes from the quick-moving
blade. Again and again Tom Banter lunged, his anger at having been thwarted making him careless.  Reacting to the warning of his senses, using his perfect timing, Nicholas blocked each thrust,  once more knocking his assailants knife to the ground.  Will Kempe and Murray scrambled for it,   Murray winning the prize.  He held it up like a trophy of battle, as if he and not Nicholas had vanquished the enemy.

But Tom Banter
, undaunted, came forward with his fists flailing.  Like a cornered, enraged, baited bull he struck out, connecting once again with Nicholas's chin.

Then Kempe and Armin got into the act, gathering anything at all that they could lay their hands on. Stones were thrown, blades slashed the air, large sticks were used as clubs. The distraction worked to Nicholas’s advantage. Getting the jump on the snarling rogue, he smashed the pommel of his rapier into his opponent’s teeth. The dark-haired man staggered back, his right hand going to his bloodied mouth.

“Get him!” Shakespeare’s cry unleashed the full potency of the actors’ fury.

S
urrounding Tom Banter, they soon had him subdued.

"Try to kill Christopher will you,"  Will Kempe said, sweeping off his belt to use it as a rope.  While  Shakespeare and Murray held the man's hands behind his back, Kempe tied his wrists.

"I owe you this."  Coming up behind Tom Banter with a stone, Robert Armin thought it justifiably sporting to hit him over the head.  "Now we are even."

Moving away from the w
all where she had remained during the fight, Alandra felt the exhilaration of the moment, experienced the joy at seeing Nicholas triumph.  While Shakespeare, her father, Kempe and Armin totally subdued Tom Banter, she had only one thought in mind. She flew into Nicholas’s arms.  Her mouth ached to feel his lips, her body burned to have him hold her again.  Blinking back tears she looked into his face.  Every fiber of her being cried out that she loved him, would always love him.

"Landra!"  Nicholas gazed down at her face, gently brushing back the tangled dark hair from her eyes
. "You will never know how very much I missed you."

"I do! 
Oh Christopher, I do. I felt the same."  She wanted to tell him everything, about the queen, her real identity, her summons to court, but now didn't seem to be the proper time,  thus all she did was hold him.  He was free and they were together, that was all that mattered.  There would be time later for explanations.  "We'll  find a ship, sail away, go across the channel.  Oh, Christopher........"

"
No, I'll not run away.  Not now," he vowed.

Though the ugliness of what nearly happened to him was tempered by being reunited with the woman he loved, Nicholas was deeply troubled.  All that had happened tonight haunted him
, for he realized clearly now that Morgana had meant to have him killed. Was it therefore surprising that she had disappeared?

"It
is the coward's way to flee,” he said, looking into Alandra’s beautiful eyes. “ Nay, I've gotten free of the Tower, but instead of running away from Elizabeth, I believe it's time I went to her.  It is the only way we can hope for any happiness, Alandra."

She trembled in his arms, even so she did not argue.  Perhaps it was the only way.  "All right,
” she said, “ but I will be beside you."

"And I," Shakespeare exclaimed.

"And me...."  Murray added, his declaration echoed by Armin and Kempe.

"If they put you in the Tower again they'll have to put us there too," Kempe said staunchly. 

Thus it was decided that at the first crack of dawn they would all pay a visit to the queen.

"But in the meantime......"  Nicholas nuzzled her neck, "let us go home..."

"Home? I can’t. I’m expected at court….."

"
Elizabeth can wait another day. Tonight belongs to us.”