Deliverance: A Justice Belstrang Mystery John Pilkington (story reading .TXT) 📖

had no answers; nor was I sure of my next move once I returned to Lydney. Setting aside my account, I went down to take supper before retiring early. I had packed my belongings, and asked the host to arouse me before dawn.

He did so, seemingly but minutes after I had fallen asleep. I rose quickly, dressed by candlelight, settled the reckoning and left the inn without taking breakfast, just as the city of Bristol was coming to life. Hurrying through the gloomy streets, I readied myself for a grim day’s sailing, under the eye of a captain who was deeply suspicious of me. But I thrust the notion aside and reached the quayside where men were already about, with the cries of gulls overhead. I approached Spry’s mooring, squinting ahead… then stopped in my tracks.

There was no sign of the Lady Ann – only an empty space at the waterside. Captain Spry had sailed without me.

***

For a while I was dumbstruck. Finally I began to look about, and accosted a nearby wharfman. When I asked if he knew anything of the whereabouts of the trow Lady Ann, he nodded.

‘She struck out last night, sir, on the tide. Never lingers very long, that one.’ He glanced at my pack, then: ‘Were you seeking a passage upriver?’

I nodded absently, my mind in a whirl. Soon I found my gaze straying to the spot where the trow’s cargo had been placed… and saw it was still there, covered with sheets. In fact, the stacks had grown to more than twice the previous number, presumably the entire contents of the hold. I turned back to the wharfman, who was about to move off.

‘Do you know the Dutch ship, by any chance? I speak of the merchantman, the Waarheid.’

The fellow gave another nod. ‘Who don’t know her. She’s been a-lading here for days… sailing soon, I heard.’

‘Do you know where she’s bound?’ I asked at once. ‘It isn’t Constantinople, is it?’

But to my surprise, the answer was a shout of laughter.

‘By the Christ, sir, you’re off by a mile. Constantinople?’ He chuckled again. ‘I can’t recall the last time a vessel sailed for there - not from Bristol, anyways.’ But seeing my confusion, the fellow shook his head.

‘The Waarheid’s for Hamburg… not quite so far, eh?’

He left me, still shaking his head. And Justice Belstrang could only turn and retrace his steps, away from the harbour towards the nearest tavern.

The sun was just rising, and the place had not yet opened. But seeing me peering somewhat forlornly through the window, the host appeared, unbolted the door and gestured for me to enter. Gratefully I went in and took a seat, saying I would take a morning draught when he was ready. The man went about his business, leaving me to ponder my circumstances.

Well, the matter was plain enough: Spry had abandoned me, letter of passage or no. How much my poking about the day before had prompted such action, I did not know. But one fact at least had emerged: that the cannons taken to the Dutch merchantman, behind the backs of the soldiers, were not destined for the Grand Turk after all – but for Hamburg. In heaven’s name, what did that mean?

I was in ignorance, I realized – almost as much as when I had first ridden into Lydney. But for the present my needs were plain: I must return there soon. Leucippus was in the stable at The Comfort - and I no longer believed I could trust Hawes, or anyone else in that place. Peck’s death had shaken me, as much as the painful warning I had received the same night.

All of this I mulled over, fortified eventually by bread and cheese and a mug of beer. The sun was up, and customers began drifting into the tavern. Finally I summoned my faculties, paid the host and made my way outside again. My first thought was to return to the inn where I had stayed and see if the chamber was free for another night, or even two; as yet I was unsure how I was to make my way back up the Severn. But first, compelled by the noise of the busy port, I found myself wandering down to the quay again, ending up beside the covered cannon left by the Lady Ann – where I stopped abruptly: the porters were back. Or at least one of them was, the same fellow, I believed, whom I had last seen sitting nonchalantly upon one on the stacks. As I drew near, the man was quickly alert. It was time for some more invention.

‘Minding Captain Spry’s goods, are you?’ I asked, adopting William Pride’s blunt tone. And when he merely blinked, I added: ‘I sailed in with him… I’m a friend of the Mountfords.’

But the name appeared to mean nothing. Rough-clad, muscular and sunburned, the man frowned and asked what I wanted from him. On impulse, I decided to say nothing of what I had seen the previous day. Instead I asked if he knew where I might find a vessel going up the Severn, whereupon the reply came readily enough.

‘You could ask Darrett. His trow will sail in today.’

‘Indeed?’ I managed a smile of thanks. ‘That’s good to know… will he moor up here?’

I gestured towards the empty berth where the Lady Ann had been, to which the man merely gave a shrug. After that he waited, with a look that said I should leave him to his work. But I lingered.

‘I saw the unloading,’ I said in a casual tone, nodding towards the stacked ordnance. ‘Heavy toil, eh?’

The other said nothing, but his impatience was growing.

‘How long will it lie here?’ I persisted. ‘I don’t see anyone guarding it, save you.’

A moment passed, while the porter looked me up and down with unconcealed