A Queen's Spy by - (black authors fiction .TXT) 📖

spoke from behind hands that covered his face.

“So, what will happen?” Catherine stood, her tone desperate.

“I don’t know, I think maybe they will kill him here,” Jack said in monotone. “Soon, probably. I suspect the constable awaits confirmation of this order. When I spoke to him in the hall he hinted that Richard would be lucky to leave here alive.”

“No! It didn’t seem so bad if they were to take him to London, there would have been time, but now…” Catherine sounded horrified.

“Mat is watching for a rider from the south, if I get advance warning perhaps I can do something,” there was agony in Jack’s voice.

“Does he know?” Catherine asked her eyes wide.

“Richard is no fool. I suspect he knew it was always a risk, but he was willing to take it,” Jack’s voice was quiet.

“What are we going to do?” Catherine asked.

“I wish I knew the answer to that question. While there is the possibility that there could be a trial or that he will be taken to London I do not think he will wish to escape. Time is not on my side. That’s why I have Mat posted to give me some warning.” He could feel the unaccustomed weight of the cross against his chest, and he swallowed hard.

“And you, what do they think you are doing?” Catherine asked.

“They think,” Jack paused, and the pain returned to his face again, “that I wish him dead. Perhaps I did; once, but not now. The deal is they leave me Burton in exchange for my help, but I feel that there is more than a good chance that they will renege on it fairly easily.”

“They don’t trust you?” Catherine asked.

“Oh I think they fairly believe I want rid of Richard and that I wish to succeed him here, and at the moment they will argue no different – the men here outnumber the constables. But they’ll not leave a troop of mercenaries with no fixed allegiance for long unchained. I am sure the Bishop of Lincoln perceives me a threat to the peace of the area. Time will tell,” Jack said.

“Alan, I saw him… What’s he doing here?” Catherine said, “I almost forgot about him. He was in the hall and he hit Richard.”

“Now that is a question I can’t answer, he was with the constable’s men when I arrived at Lincoln. There was little I could say to him in their company. I am fairly sure he’s here with the intention of taking Richard’s place, but how he’s involved in all of this I don’t know.” Jack’s head hurt. “Richard would know.”

“There were these as well, you’ve not looked at them,” Catherine crossed the room and tentatively held out the leather roll towards Jack, then when he didn’t take it she pulled away the securing strings and revealed the papers folded inside. “Here look, he told me to give you these.”

“Let us see what Richard had,” Jack reached out and took them from her. Catherine returned to the chair and watched him in the firelight as he began to study the papers.

“These will not help,” he said sighing deeply. The paper slipped from his hand and dropped onto the floor.

“Jack?” Getting no reply she picked up the paper and read for herself William Fitzwarren’s confession. “Jack, is this you? Jack?”

Recovering, he met her eyes, his face pale. “Aye. Let us bury this for the moment.” Jack took the page from her hand and put it inside his doublet. “I must start to act like a brother. You said you spoke to Richard?”

“Yes, through the window at the back near the kitchens, they are keeping him in one of the store rooms.” Catherine sounded eager now, hoping he had some ideas on a course of action.

“Do you think you can speak to him again?” Jack asked, “without being seen?”

“Yes, its dark, it should be easy,” Catherine agreed quickly.

“Go, speak to him. Tell him that you’ve spoken to me. Tell him that I believe that they will not let him leave here alive.”

Catherine nodded.

“Ask him why he thinks Alan is at Burton? Gauge his reaction, see if he welcomes help and then come back here,” Jack said. Catherine hesitated. “Go now, off with you,” Jack said, and then, seeing her disappointment at his own lack of actions, added, “I think better when I am alone.”

 

 

 

†

 

 

 

Catherine took more wine with her and silently made her way to the back of the manor. For the second time, she lay on the grass and stared into the darkness.

“Well, if it isn’t Catherine come again to enjoy my misery,” Richard said from the blackness below her.

“Are you all right?” Catherine replied.

“Save your platitudes for those who welcome them. Speaking of such, how is that brother of mine?” Richard sounded annoyed.

“Jack sent me,” Catherine whispered, ignoring his tone.

“Did he?” Richard replied bluntly.

“Yes, he’s trying to help. He doesn’t know why Alan is here, but he suspects he has something to do with this,” Catherine explained quietly.

Richard moved nearer the grilled window and stared up at her. “I am sure he does.”

“Why? Tell me?” Catherine said concern in her voice, and one of her hands tightening around the bar at the window.

“It means, mistress, that my brother had better have his wits about him. That Alan is here can mean only one thing, that he is looking to take my place.”

“But why is he with those men?” Catherine persisted.

“I don’t know,” Richard replied.

“I talked to Jack; he doesn’t believe they’ll let you leave here,” Catherine inched forward on her stomach to better see into the storeroom.

“So I shall be martyred and none shall know my cause.” Richard sounded bored. “I accept; it matters little.”

“If there is no purpose, get out,” Catherine’s voice was insistent, the pitch raised.

He reappeared before her suddenly and she stopped, surprised by the intensity of the eyes that met hers. “Who will help me? You, Catherine? Please, I shall not dwell on the hope you offer. To hold out a hand to mine enemy is divine, but please, girl, don’t overdo it,” Richard’s voice was heavy with sarcasm.

“No, you misunderstand. Please, there is hope, you must believe me,” Catherine continued.

“I believe nothing anymore, Catherine. Please go,” was all he said.

“I can’t believe you can just give up,” Catherine was angry now.

She heard the laugh from below. “Now you attack my courage and liken me to a witless idiot.”

Catherine tried again. “Whatever you seem to think, you’re worth more alive than dead.”

“To whom? To myself, no, I think not. To you, I doubt it. To Jack, I hope not.”

“Here.” She passed the bottle through the bars. “If I had seen you like this before I came I would have unstopped it and filled it with poison.”

“I am sorry you did not think to put an end to your sufferings in such a fashion. It would be a fitting end to have my demise at your hand wouldn’t it?” he replied, taking the bottle. “I will not dance for the comfort of your soul, lady.”

“Go to Hell, Richard,” Catherine shouted into the dark tears of fury springing to her eyes.

“Undoubtedly. Tell Jack I will wait for him,” he said laughing.

 

 

 

†

 

 

 

Jack paced across the room. At the moment the men here outnumbered the constables. If he took control quickly could he turn the tables? Would they follow his orders? There were many he knew who favoured Alan, and why that man was back here now he had no idea.

His train of thought was stopped when the door to his room opened abruptly and Dan stepped inside.

Jack looked into his face and knew immediately that whatever news Dan carried it was not good.

“What’s happened?” Jack questioned.

Dan closed the door behind him. “Robert’s here!”

Jack just stared at him in confusion.

“Robert. Richard’s brother, your brother. Damn it Jack! He’s here and he wants to talk to you,” Dan said, his voice worried.

“Robert? Why is he here?” Jack dropped back down to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Up now!” Dan commanded, “I don’t know what he’s here for, or why, but he’s coming to talk to you.”

“I don’t know what to say to him,” Jack’s face clouded with uncertainty.

Dan dug his hands into Jack’s arms and hauled him back to stand before him, his face close, his words were quietly spoken. “And neither do I. Jack, for once, prove to me that you’ve got some Fitzwarren blood in your veins and give a good account of yourself.”

Jack was about to say something but he read the plea clearly in the other man’s face and remained silent.

A moment later they both heard the sound of boots on the wood floor outside the room. Dan released Jack as the door was flung open with enough force to make it rebound off the wall and Robert stood framed in the doorway.

“Come in,” said Jack, facing his brother for the first time.

Robert motioned to those behind him to stay outside. He glowered at Dan who retreated, closing the door as he left.

“I’m Robert, Richard’s brother, damn the man. I had to come and see you. My thanks are yours,” Robert said, smiling broadly at the man in front of him.

Jack was careful. “Why is that?”

“The man broke my father’s health, dragged our name, my name, through all of the filth of England, conspired against the crown, and tarred my family with treason. You wonder what for?” Robert sounded incredulous, and then added, “Whatever your reasons were, those were mine and I am thankful that this is all at an end.”

Jack nodded in acceptance of his words but remained silent. Robert wandered idly to the fire. “So you’re the man who poor Harry blames for his failure on Harlsey Moor. Was it as he says and you hit him from behind just as he was about to kill Richard, who was begging for mercy at his feet?”

“Not quite,” Jack moved to seat himself near where Robert stood.

“I thought so,” Robert said slowly. Dropping to his haunches he picked the poker up from the where Catherine had left it and hefted it threateningly in his hand.

Jack could not see Robert’s face. “So why did you leave Harry then?” the lazy voice asked him, turning the poker over.

“Would you have stayed with him? I was a free man. Why not leave?” Jack stated simply.

“And take up with your brother Richard. Yes indeed, why not,” Robert agreed nodding.

“Half brother,” Jack corrected. He had learnt well from Richard.

“Aye, whatever,” Robert said. “My father was always raising bastards. Said he wanted a daughter, and can you believe it, the only girl he ever sired died in infancy. But boys! There’s a dozen bastards from his loins at least,” Robert said, his voice still lazy.

Jack ignored his words; he knew the lie and the intent behind them.

“So what will you do now?” Robert asked.

“I think, after today, I have more than I could want, don’t you?” Jack replied carefully.

Robert turned and looked squarely at Jack. “What I can’t understand is why leave Harry, take up with Richard, and then