by Sam Thomas
“And two others—also innocent, mind you—now have a chance to live,” she replied calmly. “There was no other way to save Will and Tree, or else we would have chosen it. Two people were going to die, either Tree and Will or two guards you’ve never known. Tree and Will are yours, and you owed them your protection. You had to do this.”
Martha returned to Helen, while I stayed in the kitchen considering what she’d said. I thought of the guards who had died so that Will and Tree might live. They had committed no sin. They were not Joseph’s comrades, nor were they party to his schemes. For all I knew, I had delivered their wives. I fell into prayers for the dead, the wounded, and their families, but soon enough my mind turned to Will and Tree, and my prayers for forgiveness became prayers of thanks. After a few minutes—or so it seemed—peace welled up within me. God was inscrutable, but He had decided that Will and Tree should not hang, and for that I was grateful.
I do not know how long I remained in Helen’s kitchen, or what she made of my sudden collapse. When I returned to her parlor, Helen and Martha were waiting for me as if nothing untoward had happened. Helen called for her maidservant, who returned a few minutes later with cups of wine. I dared not meet her eyes as I drank.
“I understand how you are feeling, Lady Bridget,” Helen said after a time. “But right now we should concern ourselves more with the future than with what is past. If we do not, Will and Tree will be caught up again.”
I glanced at her for a moment and nodded. “What do we need to do?”
“First we must secure ourselves,” she replied. “Under the best of circumstances, the constables would be desperate to find Will and Tree. With two guards dead, they will be rabid. And when Joseph Hodgson finds out his brother has escaped…” Her voice trailed off.
I finished her thought. “I can only imagine his fury.”
“Have the constables come to your house yet?” she asked.
“Aye. They saw your man Stephen. I said he was my cousin fallen ill with a fever. They seemed satisfied, but—”
“There is no telling how long the illusion will last,” Helen said. “If they realize someone was wounded, they will return all too soon. We will have to hide him as soon as possible.”
“I should like to hide Elizabeth as well,” I said.
Martha looked at me in surprise.
“I don’t want her out of my sight, but we have no choice,” I explained. “Joseph will have his revenge, and if he is willing to hang Tree as a witch, he would not hesitate to do the same to Elizabeth.”
“We can send both Stephen and Elizabeth to the tenement where I’ve hidden Will and Tree,” Helen said. “It will be crowded, but they will live.”
“It will not be so easy,” said Martha. “Joseph’s men are watching the house, and Stephen is weak.”
“And none but a blind man would miss Elizabeth,” I added. “Not with that hair.”
We sat in silence puzzling over the challenge before us. A solution came to me without warning.
“Elizabeth will not be pleased,” I said, “but if we can get Stephen back on his feet, I know how we can get them to safety.” I explained my plan, and Helen nodded in satisfaction.
“Stephen is stronger than you can imagine,” Helen said. “He will be walking before you would expect.”
“We can only hope that it’s soon enough,” I said.
“I’ll not tell you where Will and the boy are hidden,” Helen said. “It is safer that way. Stephen knows, and he can get there from your house.”
Martha and I wrapped ourselves in our threadbare cloaks and prepared to depart.
“Send word when they are safely away,” Helen said. “The next step will be to spirit them out of the city.”
“Thank you, Helen,” I said. “For everything you’ve done for me and mine.” I did not apologize for the hard words I’d spoken in the past, but I did not think I needed to.
She nodded and closed the door behind us.
“Hiding Elizabeth and Stephen Daniels will not bring peace,” Martha pointed out as we made our way toward Micklegate Bar. “It will simply give Joseph fewer options for revenge. If he cannot hang Tree or Will, and can no longer threaten Elizabeth, he will come for you.”
“For both of us,” I said. I thought for a moment. There seemed only one solution. “Once Elizabeth is safe, Hannah, you, and I will quit York for my estates in the south.”
It would be a hurried and ignominious departure, to be sure, and I hated the thought of abandoning the city I’d come to call my home. But we would be safe in Hereford, and for now that was my only concern.
Martha and I hurried north through the gate and into the city. The Town Watch were still searching carts and questioning all men and boys trying to leave, and I said a prayer that the Lord would keep Will and Tree safe when the time came for them to flee.
When we turned from Stonegate onto my street, Martha and I pulled our hoods low over our heads to hide our faces. From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the man who had been set to watch my house. He paid us no mind as we passed.
When we arrived at my door, I reached for the handle, but Martha stayed my hand. “Beggars would knock,” she pointed out.
Despite all that had happened that day, the look of surprise on Hannah’s face when she answered our knock brought a smile to my lips. Martha and I hurried into the house, and when I looked back at our sentry’s alleyway it remained empty.
“It seems that we escaped the guard’s notice,” I said. “Now let us see how Stephen fares, and make plans for his escape.”
Chapter 20
“He awoke not long ago,” Hannah said as we climbed the stairs to Stephen Daniels’s room. “He ate nearly half a capon, drank a full pot of ale, and went back to sleep. I checked and changed his bandages. Considering all he’s been through he’s healthy enough.”
I found Stephen as Hannah described him: asleep, but far less pale than when we’d left. I slipped out without waking him.
“With luck he’ll be able to walk in the morning,” I said. “We should see to Elizabeth. I’ll bring her to the kitchen.”
I found Elizabeth in her chamber playing with a little family of poppets, calling one Martha, one Hannah, and one Ma. They were joined by a smaller one I’d had made using a lock of Elizabeth’s own hair. A lone figure wearing men’s clothes—Will, I supposed—sat by himself off to the side. I entered the room and sat on the edge of her bed.
“Elizabeth, I must speak to you,” I said.
She looked up from her game and smiled with such warmth I thought it could banish the winter from all of England. She rose from the floor and crawled into my lap.
“Did Martha tell you why the man is sleeping in the other chamber?” I asked.
“Hannah told me he was your cousin, suffering from a fever,” she said. “But I went in and kissed his forehead, he seemed cool not hot. Is he better?” The image of this beautiful girl kissing a man like Stephen Daniels to check for fever—just as I did with her—brought a smile to my face, and I held her tight.
“His name is Mr. Daniels, and he is getting better,” I said. “But there are some things we did not tell you.”
Elizabeth furrowed her brow but let me continue.
“Mr. Daniels led Will out of the gaol,” I said.
“Like Moses and the Israelites,” Elizabeth cried. She leaped from my arms, unable to remain still in the face of such good news. I’d been telling her of Israelites and Egyptians, and she sought parallels in the world around her.
“Aye,” I said. “And now he is hiding. Tree is with him.”
“Will they be home soon, then?” she asked. “I should like to see them both. I miss them.”
“It is not quite so easy,” I replied, and took her back into my arms. “Tomorrow, if he is well enough, Mr. Daniels is going to take you to them.”
“What about you and Martha?” she asked. Concern darkened her delicate features. She had already lost one mother, and she would be
a fool not to worry about losing another.
“We are going to stay here for a time,” I replied. “In a few days, though, we will all go for a journey.”
“All of us?” Elizabeth asked, smiling brightly.
“All of us,” I said. “But first, Martha needs you in the kitchen. There are some things we must do before you go. First we must put you in your shift.”
“Why?” she asked.
“If we are going to send you to Will and Tree, you are going to need a disguise,” I explained.
“What disguise?” she asked. “My shift is no disguise.”
“No,” I agreed. “We are going to cut your hair and dress you as a boy.”
Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open. “What? My hair? A boy! No, never!” She struggled to escape my embrace, but I would not let her go.
“You must,” I said. “It is the only way for everyone to be safe. Think of it: You will be like a spy.”
Dressing as a spy pleased Elizabeth far more than dressing as a boy. “A spy? For the King?” Her face had become serious, and I could see she considered the task of the utmost importance.
“Aye, for the King,” I replied.
Elizabeth nodded, and we went to the kitchen where Martha waited with the scissors. It took over an hour, but by the time she had finished, Elizabeth seemed an entirely different child. She was no less beautiful, of course, but if we put her in Tree’s clothes and a heavy cloak she easily would pass as a boy.
At least that was my prayer.
* * *
The next morning I woke early and looked in on Stephen. He still slept, but his breathing was strong and even. Helen had been right—he would be a hard man to kill. Martha and I were in the dining hall when we heard heavy footsteps above and knew that Stephen was up and about. We found him standing in his chamber, a blanket wrapped around him.
“My clothes,” he said when we entered.
“Burned to ashes.” Martha laughed. “They were so bloody, there was no saving them. And if the constables had found them when they came, all would have been lost.”
“The constables were here? What happened to Ezra, Will, and the boy?”
“They are safe,” I said, “and so are you. We told the constables you had a fever, and they kept their distance.”
“Did they?” he asked with a smile. “Well done, then. I thought I heard voices, but I didn’t know if it was a dream.”
“But now we must see you all out of the city,” I said. “And the first step is hiding you and Elizabeth.”
“Then I’ll need some clothes,” Stephen said.
Of course the only men’s clothes we had were Will’s, and while Will was hardly a small man, fitting them on Stephen was no easy task. I had to slit a doublet in the back in order to button it in the front—a cloak would have to cover my work—and we stretched Will’s hose to the tearing point. If he were stopped and searched, all but the dullest beadle would know something was amiss, but absent a close look he would be safe. Dressing Elizabeth was a far easier task, for I had a chest full of clothes I’d bought for Tree. Indeed, since he refused to wear the silks I’d bought for him—too fine for a boy, he’d insisted—Elizabeth looked like a proper gentleman by the time we finished.
My entire household joined in a dinner of ham, cheese, and bread, and then it was time for Elizabeth and Stephen to test their luck. My heart lurched and I fought back tears as I wrapped Elizabeth in a cloak and pulled one of Tree’s hats down over her ears. She was mercifully unaware of my state, having spent the afternoon peering out the windows in preparation for her work as a spy.
I hugged her tightly and prayed for her safety before letting her and Stephen out the door. I watched the two of them walk toward Stonegate, and I nearly cried out in horror as the sentry dashed from the alley, his sword drawn.
Stephen stopped and held up his hands in a gesture of supplication. The sentry shouted over his shoulder, and two more men—these in the uniform of the Town Watch—approached. The three men gathered around Stephen and looked him over. I could see him trying to explain himself, and I said a prayer that they would listen. One of the watchmen peered at Elizabeth and then looked up at Stephen.
“If they don’t know Will, or have a poor description of him, they might take Stephen by accident,” Martha murmured. “They are looking for a man and a boy, and we’ve provided them with both. Never mind that it’s the wrong man and a girl.”
“Aye,” I said. “I never thought I’d pray that Will’s pursuers would know their quarry, but I do now.” I could tell from the look on Stephen’s face and the increasingly violent gestures of the watchmen that things were not going well. When one of the watchmen poked Stephen in the chest, and Stephen nearly fell to the ground from the pain, I darted out the door and into the street. By the time I reached Stephen’s side, my skin had turned numb from the cold.
“What are you doing?” I demanded. I saw that one of the watchmen wore a sergeant’s stripes, and I turned my attention to him. “Explain yourself!”
The sergeant could not have been more surprised if the Queen herself had charged down the street and challenged him. It took him a moment, but he eventually found his voice.
“We are in search of an escaped prisoner,” he said. His eyes narrowed, and I knew that he recognized me. “But you know this, for it is your nephew. This man came out of your house.”
“Were you told how tall my nephew is?” I asked.
The sergeant nodded. “A bit under six foot.”
“And how tall is this man?” I demanded.
The sergeant looked up at Stephen. He frowned, and I knew that I had won the day.
“Any fool could see he is not my nephew,” I concluded. “Let him pass.”
The sergeant looked down at Elizabeth, and his brow furrowed. Before he could speak, I whipped off her hat, showing her newly shorn hair.
“And this is not the boy you seek, either. No doubt you were told he had brown hair, and as you can see, this boy’s is red.”
Elizabeth looked up at me and opened her mouth to object to my calling her a boy. I popped her hat back on before she could.
“Well and fine,” the sergeant growled at last. “Let them go.”
I held my breath until Stephen and Elizabeth were safely out of sight. To my relief, none of the guards followed them. It seemed that our plan had worked. I nodded to the sergeant and returned to my house, desperate for the warmth within. As soon I entered, Hannah wrapped me in a blanket and hurried me to the kitchen. It took nearly half an hour before the cold began to seep from my bones. As evening fell, I sat in my parlor and looked into the darkening street, wondering how we could escape the city. Martha joined me with the same question.
“I don’t know,” I said. “The Town Watch is minding the gates so closely, I don’t want to try sneaking Will, Tree, and Elizabeth out just yet. If they are caught, all will be lost.”
“So we wait while Joseph and his men search the city room by room? They cannot stay hidden forever.”
“There is nothing we can do tonight, but tomorrow we will speak to Helen Wright,” I said. “If she can see them out of gaol, perhaps she can ease them through the city gates as well. I should be surprised if she hasn’t already begun to plan for their escape.”
I don’t know whether Martha or Hannah slept that night, but I lay awake for hours puzzling at the dangers we faced. After a time my mind returned to the murder of George Breary, so easily forgotten in the fire and smoke of my battle against Joseph. I remembered that if I could somehow prove Joseph’s role in the murder, our problems would fall away in a matter of days. However I tried, though, I could not imagine a way to do this.
I had just drifted to sleep when a knock roused me once again. My first fear was that the Town Watch had found Will, Tree, and Elizabeth, but the knock was far too gentle for that. Instead of a constable, Hannah admitted one of Matthew Thompson’s lads calling me to Grace Thompson’s travail.
“With all our runni
ng about I’d near forgotten I was a midwife,” I said to Martha as we wrapped ourselves against the cold. I was pleased to have the Thompsons’ man with us as we wound our way toward Micklegate. Joseph’s rage when he learned of Will’s escape would know no bounds, and I did not know how he would react. If he had seen fit to crush George Breary’s skull, I did not know why mine would be sacrosanct. The moon hung cold and bright in the night sky; sometimes it lit our path, but it also made the shadows seem that much more threatening. We kept to the light as best we could, but the darkness seemed to reach out, intent on catching us up. Relief flooded my body when we climbed the steps to the Thompsons’ home.
As befitted his place in the city, Matthew’s home was among York’s largest and most impressive. The Thompsons had filled every room with the finest furniture and wall coverings. Grace’s chamber was twice the size of my own, and I could not avoid a twinge of envy when I saw the exquisite quality of her quilts. Such uncharitable feelings dropped away when I felt the warmth of the women’s welcome. They waved Martha and me into the room, thrust glasses of wine into our hands, and peppered us with questions about Will and Tree’s escape from Ouse Bridge gaol. Martha and I pretended amazement, of course, and joined them in their wonder of how such a thing had come to pass. If the women worried about the men who had died that night, they hid it well, but I could not avoid thinking about them.
It took some doing, but after a time I convinced Grace to leave off gossiping and let me examine her. I found that she was still many hours from her final travail, so we returned to the other women and their merry conversation. It did not take long, though, before the days and nights I’d spent worrying about Will, Tree, and Elizabeth began to drag me down. I told Martha I required some sleep, slipped into a neighboring chamber, and fell into a large and exceedingly comfortable bed.
It was full daylight when I awoke to a burst of laughter from Grace’s room. I called for a basin of water, splashed some on my face, and returned to the gossips. Martha was clearly exhausted, so I sent her to the bed I’d just left. Gossips came and went in a steady stream as Grace’s labor pains became more frequent.