Darkness Divined (Dark Devices)

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by Gregory House




  Darkness Divined

  Darkness Divined

  A Tudor Paranormal Mystery

  By Gregory House

  Published by Gregory House at Amazon

  Copyright 2011 Gregory House

  Discover other titles by Gregory House at www.amazon.com or www.amazon.co.uk

  https://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A1UGNTMFKAX9Y0?ie=UTF8&ref_=sv_ys_4

  All artwork copyright Alexander House 2011

  Archaeology, Peter Wilkes and other diverse matters blogged at

  http://prognosticationsandpouting.blogspot.com

  Red Ned, the Reluctant Tudor Detective blog at

  http://rednedtudormysteries.blogspot.com/

  Stories in the Red Ned Tudor Mysteries Series

  Amazon UK

  The Liberties of London

  The Queen’s Oranges

  The Cardinal’s Angels

  Amazon US/Australia

  The Liberties of London

  The Queen’s Oranges

  The Cardinal’s Angels

  Soon to be released in the Red Ned Tudor Mysteries Series on Amazon

  The Smithfield Shambles

  The Trade of the Thames

  The King’s Counsel

  The Peter Wilks Archaeological Mysteries Series on Amazon

  Terra Australis Templar

  Soon to be released in the Peter Wilks Series

  The Gold Coast Glyphs

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (mechanical, photocopying, recording of otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. If you would like to share this book with another please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Please respect the author’s rights to this work.

  Tenebrae inluminator incognitorum

  Contents

  Tenebrae inluminator incognitorum

  Contents

  Dramatis Personae

  Common Tudor Terms

  Tudor Coinage and values

  Tudor Names and Language.

  Map Westminster

  Map to Blackfriars

  Prologue: A Deed of Darkness - Westminster Hilary Term 1520

  Chapter 1: The Summons–Westminster

  Chapter 2: Servant or Service—Westminster

  Chapter 3: Bottoph’s Repose – The Strand

  Chapter 4: Agryppa Arcanum - Blackfriars

  Chapter 5: Dark Musings—Westminster

  Chapter 6: The Cabinet of Dr Agryppa—Westminster

  Chapter 7: A Change of Plan—Westminster

  Chapter 8: Conscripted for the Cause—Southwark

  Chapter 9: Service with a Sneer—Southwark

  Chapter 10: Darkness Examined—Blackfriars Chapel

  Chapter 11: A Visitation—Milford Lane

  Chapter 12: Modern Methods—Blackfriars Chapel

  Chapter 13: Old Friends—The Liberties Farrington Without

  Chapter 14: A Coroner’s Task —The Liberties

  Chapter 15: The Darkness Resurgent—Blackfriars Chapel

  Chapter 16: Darkness Beckons—Blackfriars Chapel

  Chapter 17: A Fine Brawl - Blackfriars Chapel

  Chapter 18: A Splendid Lair - Blackfriars Residence

  Chapter 19: The Three Sparrows – Shoe Lane, The Liberties of the Fleete

  Chapter 20: Fleete of Foote—Fleet Street to Bridewell

  Chapter 21: Darkness Illuminated—Bridewell Palace

  Chapter 22: A Strange Resolution—Westminster

  Historical Note

  Dramatis Personae

  King Henry VIII: the Sovereign of the realm and generous benefactor around which all men at court strive to be noticed

  Cardinal Thomas Wolsey: Lord Chancellor, Archbishop of York and the most powerful man in the Kingdom after the King.

  Francis Bryan: the King’s Master of the Toils (hunts) and former close companion of His Sovereign Majesty, a gentleman who feels the chill winds of Wolsey’s dislike.

  Jasper Bottoph: the personal servant of Francis Bryan, whom considers him to be the most miserable and conniving of miscreants.

  Gwen Salter: a part time punk who is the current favourite bed partner to Francis Bryan.

  Smeaton: Wolsey’s private secretary and suspected liveryman of darker measures.

  Annise Athyney: a woman of attractive features, peculiar tastes and talents, rumoured servant to the shadowy Council.

  Richard d’ Montchrestien: Retainer to Mistress Annise a man of intriguing skills

  Dr Agryppa: a modern physician, dealer in sacred wares and master of devices, whom bears an animosity to many a great man at court.

  Mistress Phoebe: bawdy house Mistress of the Three Sparrows

  Seraphina: Servant/assassin to Lord Volund member of the Convocation

  Alain d’Cardelhac: Servant/envoy to Countessa Marissa d’ Ameliani member of the Council

  Sir Charles Brandon: Earl of Suffolk close friend of King Henry and husband to the King’s sister Mary Tudor

  Thomas Cromwell: a secretary and retained lawyer to Cardinal Wolsey

  Thomas More: a prominent London lawyer and humanist writer, servant of Cardinal Wolsey

  Earl of Devonshire: one of the leading nobles of the realm and cousin of the King also a skilled player at the Royal Court.

  Jenny Watkins a part time punk and the room mate of Gwen

  Common Tudor Terms

  Ale house: Lower in social scale and quality than a tavern. Usually a room with a few benches and a brew house out the back. In theory, they had to be licensed. These were considered by the city officials as the breeding ground of mischief and crime.

  Tavern: Equivalent to a modern British Pub or American Bar usually serving reasonable quality food and ale.

  Inn: These establishments were the Sheratons or Hiltons of their age, large buildings with a courtyard and stables used to catering to gentry and nobility.

  Stew: a brothel or a region of disreputable activities

  Cony catching: a common term for any manner of con trick or swindle

  Cozener: swindlers, fraudsters tricksters etc

  Foister: A sometime more aggressive cozener or cozener’s offsider

  Nip: a young boy working with a foister, or cozener

  Punk: a common name for a part time prostitute

  Minchin: a young girl in thieves or Liberties cant

  Humours: Tudor medicine believed the human body was made up of four humours and that bleeding or diet could balance the humours according to consultation with an astrological chart, this finally dropped out of favour in the mid 1800’s

  Hilary Term: in Medieval and Tudor England the siting of the law courts was by term, Hilary runs from the end of the Christmas festivals to Easter.

  Brandywine: later shortened to brandy, alcoholic distillation of wine

  Sack: A very popular form of fortified wine similar to sherry sometimes augmented with sugar and brandy for extra taste.

  Rhenish: as the name implies a wine from the Rhine region

  Scarlet cloth: this was the common name of the finest woven woollen cloth used for gowns, kirtles and doublets and does not refer to the colour thus you can have blue scarlet or green scarlet as is described in period documents.

  Justice: the local judge or royal official charged with keeping the peace

  The Common Watch: acted as a police force and occasional fire brigade, and regarded by the Tudor citizens as next to useless and dumber than a bag of hammers.

  Parish Ward Muster: citizen militia of reasonable quality a
nd equipment, usually recruited from the better classes of Londoners.

  Bedlam: the Hospital of St Mary of Bethlehem a hospice for those found to be decayed in their wits, mad crazed or deluded, hence the phrase as ‘its bedlam’ or as ‘mad as Bedlam’. In the Tudor period the common term of insanity was Bedlamite.

  The Liberties: areas of the city of London and Southwark under the jurisdiction of the church and exempt from interference by city or county officials, usually swarming with punks, cony catchers, thieves, murders and forgers.

  Wherry: a small boat with one to four rowers used for transport on the Thames, the taxi of its day.

  Tudor Coinage and values

  During the reign of Henry VIII the value of coins varied wildly since coins were frequently recalled and subsequently reissued with a lower precious metal content to aid the financing of Henry’s expenditure on war and domestic building programs. It got to such a state that the gold sovereign coins stamped with the portrait of the king were nicknamed old copper noses since frequent handling gave them a red gold colour. Rhenish florins, Thalers and Venetian florins were the period’s equivalent of US dollars and accepted all over Europe. All other coins were evaluated to their standard.

  Suffice to say that coins before 1520 were worth a lot more than later issues.

  farthing = quarter of a penny (0.25d)

  halfpenny (0.5d)

  1 penny silver coin

  Half groat silver coin worth 2 pence

  Groat silver coin worth 4 pence

  1 shilling silver coin worth 12d

  1 noble a gold coin worth 6s 8d. (80p, or 1/3 of a pound)

  1 Angel a gold coin worth 7 shillings and 6 pence

  1 pound or a sovereign gold coin worth 20 shillings, i.e. 240 pence

  1 mark was the value of 8 ounces of gold or silver; 123 4d

  Tudor Names and Language.

  To all my readers as a writer of historical based fantasy fiction, I strive to bring forth a contemporary understandable view of the Tudor Age, during the reign of Henry VIII. For instance, the English of the Tudor period is both maddeningly close and frustratingly different to our modern usages. For instance a number of placenames, titles and phrases may appear different since they’ve been written in their earlier Tudor forms. To aid the story flow and provide a period flavour I’ve made some efforts to render dialects and phrasing into more modern standards to take account of the many regional and class differences in accent and pronunciation. Hopefully this will give the reader a taste of Tudor English without sounding like a player at a Ren Fair. At this time there was nothing like standard English in speech or spelling which only gained prominence in the 1800’s after universal education and dictionaries. For any one who would like to look a little deeper into where our language came from I can highly recommend Bill Bryson’s The Mother Tongue, an extremely amusing account of accent, eccentricity and English. Finally apart from a good tale of adventure, magick and modern philosophy as a historian and researcher I’m trying to give the reader as accurate portrayal of Tudor life, culture and attitudes as possible based on the surviving records and accounts.

  Regards Gregory House

  Map Westminster

  Map to Blackfriars

  Prologue: A Deed of Darkness - Westminster Hilary Term 1520

  As the cloud skidded by overhead bearing its heavy burden of rain and sleet westwards, it briefly allowed a spill of half full moonlight to wash over the empty courtyard at Westminster palace. If any at that late hour of the night chose to look out towards the Thames they may have caught a glimpse of the two huddled figures carrying a wrapped object across the cobbles. At the sudden if wan burst of light the foremost Hauler gave a squeal and dropped his end. “By Crist sir’n, she’z quik! I’z sweer I felt her twitch!”

  Staggering at the sudden weight the second hauler lost his grip and the body dropped to the ground. Angered at the hindrance the Second hauler snarled out a curse. “Don’t be so stupid, yea measle–brained tosspot. She’s dead!” The Second Hauler cursed as he flexed his shoulders to limber up the cramped muscles.

  “But’s I felt her foot move!’

  “By God’s blood you fool, you saw her in the room. You can’t get much deader than that. I should know! Now stop y’r whining and pick up her legs!”

  “But…but.”

  “By St Anthony’s blessed fucking arm bone, if you don’t do as I say you’ll twitch, yea measle, at the end of a rope!”

  The First Hauler reluctantly edged back, made a tentative grasp at the bundled feet of the shrouded figure, and lifted them a little way above the cobblestones before giving another cry, leaping backwards and crossing himself. “Oh saints. It moved…it moved I seez!”

  Even in the pallid light if any had been watching they’d have seen a head shake in disgust from the Second Hauler, who knelt down and gave the shrouded body a deliberate prod. “Yea louse brained loony, even St Peter would say she’s dead. Here see that, she didn’t move. You’ve been a weaselling sack from the Butlery again, haven’t you?”

  The First Hauler made a rapid cross over his chest. “Ohh Sir, I swears by me muther’s soul, I’d niver. I’s only ‘ave what you’s pleased to grant me.”

  The Second Hauler paused at that all too instant denial quavered out in the ubiquitous tone of an aggrieved hard put upon servant. If anyone at court was aware of the deficiencies of their liverymen, the Second Hauler certainly was. Drunkenness, whoring, shirking and thieving were just the fellow’s more common faults. Another time and place and that canny evasion would have earned a thrashing. Now though, he dismissed the urge. There were more important matters to deal with—this thrice damned corpse for one.

  “Damn you for a dolt! Just…just take hold of her legs again!” This was said in as steady and commanding a voice as he could manage while still being discrete. Even at this late or early hour, the royal palace and halls of Westminster were rarely quiet for long. By his reckoning they had at best some quarter hour before the palace servants began traipsing through here, beginning the morning’s preparation of baking and cooking.

  “Ohh I’s don’t know sir…” This doubtful reply trailed off into uncertainty.

  The Second Hauler bit back a curse. While that fool dithered, the sands of secrecy were trickling out fast. Ignoring the mud on the wet cobbles the Second hauler knelt over the body and gave corpse’s shoulder’s a shake. “See, as dead as a traitor’s head on London Bridge.”

  Now at this point in the argument the Second body Hauler felt himself on solid ground. He should know whether or not the body was deceased. The rendering of this corpse had taken him the best part of half an hour. In his experience the average descendant of Eve commonly only required one or maybe two dagger thrusts to make them as dead as they needed to be. He wasn’t by nature a squeamish man or a coward, having proved himself on battlefield, duel and joust, but by all that was holy, the memory of how this corpse came to be, broke him out in cold sweat. Pushing past that, he tightened his hands around the sheet as his reluctant assistant shuffled over and they once more resumed their slow progress towards the riverbank.

  At that moment the pale light was cut off as if by a dropped curtain as the next cloud occluded the moon. It was perhaps not the best time for a further hiccup in the plan.

  “Aww Crist! It moved agin!” The First Hauler squealed, repeating his prior refrain and almost dropping his burden.

  “Damn yea, by my blood it didn’t! Hold fast and keep yer grip or you’ll earn a beating!”

  No doubt the discussion would have continued in this vein for the next fifty paces, except that an unexpected event brought the argument to a precipitous halt. The body moved.

  The arms broke free of the shroud and lunged up at the Second Hauler, while its feet spasmed, kicking off the hold of the reluctant First Hauler. Needing no further prompting, he bolted with a trailing scream into the covering darkness. The Second Hauler though didn’t have any chance to shirk his task. The hands of the corpse
were now locked tight on his doublet and the rest of the body was struggling its way out of the shroud. In any normal circumstance he’d be as terrified as his minion and would have thought nothing of bolting from this gruesome apparition. He didn’t have a choice. Stand him against a dozen Frenchmen and he’d take the odds with a grim chuckle. This though had him chilled to his belly. The dead were supposed to stay deceased until the Last Judgement, not get up and try to kill you!

  This damned girl wasn’t satisfied with the peace of eternal rest or with waiting for the Last Trumpet. Instead those pale hands of hers were clutching at his throat. Fear, terror and shock held him frozen for a moment until one clawing, dead finger grazed the tip of his short beard. By St Anthony no! She’d almost done him in earlier this night. It wasn’t going to happen again! With a growled curse he clasped his hands together, and in a move that he’s learnt off the King, punched upwards. The blow jerked the body off its feet and knocked away one hand. The remaining one though was now latched onto his collar as the moving corpse made unnatural snuffling sounds in an effort to coordinate standing, shaking itself free of the sheet and attacking. Taking the instant’s respite, the second hauler pulled out his belt dagger and plunged the blade under the arm moving toward his throat. The blade was good German steel, a gift from His Sovereign Majesty after a game of dice. It slipped in easily with only a whisper of sound as the needle sharp tip punctured the muscle in the armpit.

 

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