The Vagabond Clown

by Edward Marston

  Lord Westfield was aghast. ‘What’s this? Has he disappeared, then?’

  Nicholas was succinct. He gave enough detail to show how serious the situation was but did nothing to impede the action that was necessary. Their patron was horrified at what he heard but could not see how he could help.

  ‘This ship has set sail, you say?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Nicholas. ‘Sebastian Frant is certainly aboard. It may even be that Master Firethorn is there as well. We need to overhaul them, my lord.’

  ‘Even you cannot swim that fast,’ said the other with a feeble smile.

  ‘A faster vessel must be dispatched. Only my Lord Cobham could sanction that.’

  ‘Then it shall be done!’

  ‘Will you speak with him on our behalf?’

  ‘No, Nicholas,’ said the patron, ‘you’ll do it much better yourself. Acquaint him with the villainy that’s taken place and the Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports will be only too willing to oblige you. Lawrence Firethorn kidnapped? Mercy on us! The future of my theatre company is at stake. You shall have your ship from my dear friend.’

  ‘There’s another favour I must beg of him, my lord.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I wish to sail in the vessel,’ said Nicholas.

  Sebastian Frant was not capable of expressing the deep anger that he felt. Instead of being furious with his bearded companion, he sounded merely petulant.

  ‘There was no need to belabour him like that,’ he complained.

  ‘He had the gall to spit at me.’

  ‘Then you must have provoked him.’

  ‘No,’ said the man. ‘I offered him cheese and he spat it in my face. Nobody does that to me with impunity.’

  ‘You might have caused him serious injury.’

  ‘If only I had the chance!’

  ‘Robert!’ said Frant reproachfully.

  ‘You are too soft, Sebastian. It’s not a fault shared by our enemies.’

  ‘Lawrence Firethorn is not an enemy.’

  ‘You wanted to bring Westfield’s Men to a halt, did you not?’

  ‘I did. But not by killing their manager.’

  ‘It would have been the deftest way.’

  ‘Only to someone as bloodthirsty as you, Robert. There’s been enough killing.’

  ‘There can never be enough of that!’

  Frant was standing on the deck of the Mermaid with Robert Armiger, the bearded assassin who had stabbed two men to death and arranged the kidnap of a third. Because they were sailing into a head wind, the ship was obliged to tack and that slowed them down. Frant peered over the bulwark for the first sign of the French mainland but he could see nothing on the horizon.

  ‘We’ll be late,’ he decided.

  ‘We should use a bigger vessel,’ said Armiger. ‘The Mermaid has seen better days. She needs to have her hull repaired.’

  ‘She’s served us well enough in the past, Robert. Who else would do the kind of work we require and ask no questions? We’ll just have to suffer her tardiness.’

  ‘It’s more than tardiness. The ship is a disgrace. I was a sailor once and it offends me to use the Mermaid. She’s not fit for the work.’

  ‘We’ve crossed without trouble so far.’

  ‘Except from Master Firethorn,’ sneered Armiger.

  ‘You keep away from him.’

  ‘He has to be beaten into submission.’

  ‘No, Robert,’ said Frant. ‘I forbid it. When we get to France, he’s to be taken ashore, a long way from the coast, then released. By the time he’s found his way back to Dover, it will be too late. The danger will be over.’

  ‘Kill Master Firethorn and there would be no danger.’

  ‘You do not know Westfield’s Men.’

  ‘I know them well enough to want to destroy them.’

  ‘That’s not as easy as we imagined,’ said Frant. ‘I hoped that Giddy Mussett’s death would bring them to their knees but they simply pressed on. They should never have been allowed to stage The Loyal Subject here. It was agony to sit through it.’

  ‘Our religion was mocked again.’

  ‘Mocked and vilified.’

  ‘And the chief culprit was the man tied up in the hold.’

  ‘He’s paid for it, Robert. He’s suffered.’

  ‘Then let me put him out of his misery,’ said Armiger, fingering his dagger.

  ‘No! Leave him alone!’

  ‘You may live to regret your weakness, Sebastian.’

  ‘It’s not weakness,’ said Frant, ‘but a debt that has to be paid.’

  Armiger scowled and moved away. Frant continued to scan the horizon until a member of the crew walked past. He turned to speak to him.

  ‘How long before we sight land, John?’

  ‘Not long now, Master Frant.’

  ‘This delay irks me.’

  ‘The Mermaid was not built for speed,’ said Strood with a shrug. ‘If you want a fast crossing, choose another vessel. I reckon she’ll reach Boulogne ahead of us.’

  ‘Who will?’

  ‘The other ship.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Look behind you, sir. We’ve company.’

  Frant crossed the deck to stare over the other bulwark. Half a mile behind them was a small, sleek three-masted galleon under full sail. When he saw the sun glinting off the cannon, Frant became slightly worried.

  ‘Do you recognise her, John?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said Strood. ‘She’s the Mercury and well-named for her speed. The main and foremast are square-rigged, with topsails, spritsails and top-gallants. When she straightens her line, you’ll be able to see the lateen sail on her mizzen. All in all, she must have three times as much canvas as we do.’

  ‘She’s carrying guns.’

  ‘The Mercury is well-armed with seven cannon on each side as well as smaller ordnance. She’s one of the ships kept at Dover to ward off any attacks from Spain.’

  ‘What makes you think that she’s heading for Boulogne?’

  ‘She’s holding the same course as the Mermaid. That means one of two things,’ argued Strood. ‘She’s either bound for the same port as we are.’

  ‘Or?’

  ‘The Mercury is following us.’

  Owen Elias was an indifferent sailor. From the moment they left the shelter of Dover, his stomach began to feel queasy and his legs unsteady Yet he did not wish to miss out on the action. Instead of going below, he forced himself to stay on deck with Nicholas, who was savouring the exhilaration of a voyage once again. Crossing the Channel might not compare with some of the nautical experiences he had been through with Drake but it could still set his blood racing. Nicholas had been the first to pick out a ship on the horizon and he was thrilled when the tiny dot grew bigger and bigger until it was eventually identified as the Mermaid.

  ‘Are we going to catch her in time?’ asked Elias.

  ‘No question but that we will.’

  ‘I think that we should blow them out of the water.’

  ‘There’s no reason to do that,’ said Nicholas. ‘We know that Sebastian is aboard and he may even have Lawrence with him. Would you want the pair of them to drown?’

  ‘No, Nick. I spoke in haste.’

  ‘We need to seize the ship while we can. If the Mermaid is carrying illegal cargo, as I suspect she is, her captain will be called to account. Sink the vessel and we’d have no idea what was in her hold.’

  ‘I’m just anxious to strike back at Sebastian.’

  ‘We’ll not do it with cannon, unless we put a shot across her bows. With luck, nobody will be harmed. Remember that I’ve a friend in the crew.’

  ‘He may not be too pleased to see you.’

  ‘I doubt that he will,’ said Nicholas, feeling a pang of regret. ‘If his ship is being used for smuggling, John Strood will not thank me for setting off in pursuit of it. His days at sea may be cut short for a while.’

  ‘What of your friendship?’

  ‘It will p
erish, I fear.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Elias. ‘Like our friendship with Sebastian Frant.’

  ‘He has a higher duty, Owen. At least, that is how he and that pretty daughter of his will have seen it. They serve God in their own way and that justifies anything.’

  ‘Even murder and kidnap?’

  ‘Apparently.’

  ‘It is so unlike the Sebastian we knew. He was such a gentle creature.’

  ‘Nobody is suggesting that he wielded the daggers himself.’

  ‘No,’ said Elias, ‘but he gave the order to the assassin.’

  ‘That’s what we suppose. I’ll be glad to learn the full truth of it.’

  ‘So will I, Nick.’

  ‘Why did he turn against a theatre company that once employed him?’ wondered Nicholas. ‘Why did he sanction the ambush against us and the death of Giddy Mussett?’

  ‘Lawrence is the person who concerns me.’

  ‘All the victims deserve our sympathy.’

  ‘He’s the only one who may still be alive.’

  ‘Pray God that it be so!’

  They looked across at the Mermaid as it changed tack once again. It was now close enough for them to see the crew on deck, going about their duties. Nicholas could not pick out John Strood yet but he knew that his friend must be there. It would be an uncomfortable reunion for both of them. There was no possibility that the Mermaid would outrun them. The old and leaky merchant ship could never compete with a galleon like the Mercury. Thanks to their patron, a trim vessel had been put at their disposal. Lord Cobham, Warden of the Cinque Ports, had acted promptly and decisively. The chase across the Channel was now almost over.

  ‘I feel sick,’ complained Elias.

  ‘Go below,’ advised Nicholas. ‘Sit in a quiet corner with a bucket nearby.’

  ‘And miss the chance of a brawl?’

  ‘They’ll be fools if they resist, Owen. We outnumber them easily.’

  ‘I want to measure my sword with the killer himself. Will he be aboard?’

  ‘I think it very likely, especially if Lawrence is on the ship. Sebastian would not be able to handle him alone. He’d need a strong man to do that. My guess is that we’ll find both master and assassin on the Mermaid.’

  ‘Why would they take Lawrence with them?’

  ‘To get him out of the way.’

  ‘Would it not be easier simply to kill him?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Nicholas, ‘but I feel that Sebastian will stay his hand. He’s not entirely beyond the reach of friendship and he’ll not decree another murder for the sake of it. He’s a devout man. Sin must ever be weighed against necessity.’

  ‘Necessity?’ echoed Elias. ‘What necessity was there to have a harmless clown like Giddy Mussett stabbed in the back?’

  ‘He was not harmless to Sebastian, or to his daughter.’

  ‘She, at least, does not have Giddy’s blood on her hands.’

  ‘No,’ agreed Nicholas, ‘that’s true. Sebastian kept her innocent of that. What she will think when she learns the truth about her father, I do not know, but it might shake her faith in the Old Religion.’

  The Mercury dipped and rose in the swirling water, gaining on the other ship with every minute. As they drew even closer, Nicholas and Elias caught a glimpse of a lone passenger, standing in the stern of the Mermaid and watching them with apprehension.

  It was Sebastian Frant.

  Lawrence Firethorn was in agony. Still tied up below deck, he was suffering pain in every limb and a pounding headache. The gag made breathing difficult and the rope was cutting into his wrists. Wearied by loss of sleep, and by the beating he had taken, he had no strength left to test his bonds any more. But the mental anguish was far worse than any physical torture. He worried for himself, for his family and for his beloved company. Not knowing what lay ahead for him, he tormented himself by imagining all sorts of hideous deaths. It was his wife and children who occupied his mind most. How would they feel when they learnt that he had vanished across the sea? How would Margery cope on her own? Who would bear the news to her? What would happen to their home in Shoreditch?

  He was still wallowing in remorse when he heard distant yells above his head. They did not sound like orders being barked to the crew. One voice was much closer than the other, though the second seemed to come nearer with the passage of time. Firethorn strained his ears to catch what was being said but the noise of the waves and the creaking of the ship made it impossible. There was a long wait, followed by a resounding thud that made the whole vessel shudder. At first, Firethorn thought that they had been rammed and that the Mermaid would be holed below the water line. Alone of the people aboard, he would be unable to save himself as the ship sank to the bottom of the sea. Seized by panic, he began to recite his prayers to himself. But no water came gushing in to claim his life and no cries of alarm were heard from the crew. Firethorn gave thanks to God for sparing him the horror of being drowned.

  There was another long wait. A mixture of strange sounds came down to him but they only confused Firethorn. He had no idea what had happened beyond the fact that the ship did not seem to be maintaining the same speed any more. Hurried feet then came down the wooden steps. The next moment, someone stood behind Firethorn with an arm under his chin to pull back his head. The cold blade of a dagger was held against his throat. He braced himself for the murderous incision but he was spared yet again. Other people came down into the hold and approached him. Against all the odds, he heard a voice that he recognised and loved.

  ‘Leave go of him, Sebastian,’ warned Nicholas Bracewell.

  ‘Keep away!’ replied Frant, tightening his grip on Firethorn.

  ‘There’s no escape.’

  ‘Take one more step and I slit his throat.’

  ‘Why? What has Lawrence ever done to you?’

  ‘He got in the way.’

  ‘Was that Giddy Mussett’s crime as well?’ asked Nicholas, his voice deliberately calm. ‘Did he get in the way?’

  ‘His death was forced upon me.’

  ‘I think that I can guess why.’

  ‘I doubt that,’ said Frant.

  ‘Then perhaps I should tell you that we called at your house earlier on. We spoke to Thomasina and admired the furniture in your parlour. Some similar pieces are stored down here in the hold, are they not? Your daughter told us why.’

  ‘Thomasina would never do that.’

  ‘She was too proud of her religion to deny it.’

  ‘Give me the dagger, Sebastian,’ said Owen Elias, ‘or I’ll take it from you.’

  ‘Not if you wish Lawrence to live.’ Frant’s hand shook and the blade of the dagger drew a trickle of blood from Firethorn’s throat. ‘Stay back, Owen. If you value his life, keep your distance.’

  ‘That’s sensible advice,’ agreed Nicholas. ‘Leave him be, Owen.’

  The Welshman was perplexed. ‘Allow him to get away with this?’

  ‘Sebastian will get away with nothing.’

  ‘That depends on what kind of bargain we strike,’ said Frant.

  ‘You are hardly in a position to strike any kind of bargain,’ said Nicholas quietly. ‘The ship has been boarded and we’ve a dozen armed men on deck. Do you think that you can defy us all, Sebastian?’

  ‘I’ll trade my safety for Lawrence’s life.’

  Elias was scornful. ‘Your safety! You have no safety.’

  ‘Let me handle this, Owen,’ said Nicholas. ‘My only concern is with Lawrence’s safety. We should rejoice that he’s still alive. Sebastian deserves our thanks for that.’

  ‘He’ll get no thanks from me.’

  Nicholas turned to Frant again. ‘Forgive him, Sebastian. He does not understand. There’s only one reason why you spared Lawrence and it was not because you needed him as a means of bargaining, was it?’

  ‘That no longer matters,’ said Frant, desperation making his voice hoarse.

  ‘I believe that it does.’

  ‘Lawrence’s life is
in your hands, Nick.’

  ‘And what about Thomasina’s life?’ asked Nicholas. ‘Have you forgotten her? It’s a cruel father who’d save his own skin and leave his daughter to suffer the consequences of his crimes. I refuse to believe that Sebastian Frant is that callous.’ He took a step closer. ‘Thomasina loves you. She looks up to you. At least, she did until she heard that you were involved in murder and kidnap. Are you going to make her even more ashamed by taking yet another life?’

  ‘Be quiet!’ howled Frant, wrestling with his conscience.

  ‘Put the dagger aside, Sebastian.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Put it aside,’ said Nicholas softly, moving in closer. ‘We both know that you could not kill Lawrence. You’ve too much compassion in you for that. You simply wanted him out of the way so that Westfield’s Men could not continue. Nothing will be served by his death now.’ He held out a hand. ‘Let me have the dagger, Sebastian.’

  ‘Stay back!’ shouted Frant, pointing the weapon at him.

  ‘Would you kill me as well? Then do so,’ invited Nicholas, spreading his arms and offering his chest. ‘Come on, Sebastian. We know that you can hire an assassin. Let’s see if you have the courage to use that dagger yourself.’ He took another step forward. ‘We were friends once. End that friendship now, if you must.’

  Frant raised the dagger to strike then lost his nerve. Opening his hand, he let it drop with a clatter to the floor. Nicholas was on him in an instant, pinioning him so that he could not move. Elias moved with equal speed to cut through Firethorn’s bonds. The actor-manager tore off the gag and the blindfold. He blinked up at Frant.

  ‘You had this done to me, Sebastian?’ he asked. ‘I’ll strangle you!’

  ‘No,’ said Nicholas, using his body to protect Frant. ‘We’ll take him back to face the rigour of the law.’

  ‘He’ll feel my rigour first, Nick.’

  ‘You do not look as if you’ve any to spare, Lawrence,’ said Elias, putting an arm around him. ‘Leave him to us.’

  ‘But he was the one who ordered my kidnap.’

  ‘Sebastian did not carry it out himself,’ observed Nicholas. ‘He’d not soil his Roman Catholic hands with that kind of crime. He instructed someone else to abduct you. Is that not true, Sebastian?’ He tightened his grip on Frant. ‘Who was the man and where is he now?’ Frant’s lower lip began to tremble. ‘I thought so. The villain is aboard.’