The Thief, the Fool and the Big Fat King

by Terry Deary

  I wrapped a fist around one gold piece and sat back to watch. Father lost everything–but I held onto that one gold piece.

  When the sun began to rise, we were back in the city. Our feet were aching after the fifteen-mile walk. And we were starving.

  “No money for food or shelter,” Father groaned.

  That was when I pulled out the gold piece from my pocket. He snatched it from me without a word of thanks and stalked off to The Dead Duck.

  I stepped into the gloom. After the bright morning light I could hardly see. But I saw the shadow of a shadow in the far corner.

  Something moved towards the back door. As the door opened, light spilled in and I could see her clearly. It was the girl in the brown dress. The cutpurse.

  She’d seen us enter and she was running away.

  I raced across the bar-room, pushed tables and benches aside and spilled ale mugs.

  I was into the stable yard at the back and saw her diving under the belly of a horse. The horseshoes sparked off the cobbles as the horse stamped and almost struck me as I dived after the girl.

  As she scrambled to her feet, I was there before her. I grabbed at the bag on her shoulder and it tore–spilling the purses full of coins on to the cobbles.

  She looked at me, as poisonous as Henry VIII’s leg.

  I held tight to the remains of the bag and a couple of purses. “If I go to the constable with these, you’ll hang.”

  She shrugged. “You don’t know my name or where I live. The constable would never find me.”

  At that moment, the back door of the tavern opened and the fat landlord looked out, as greasy as his apron.

  “What’s happening, Meg?” he asked.

  The girl groaned. “Shut up, Dad!” Then she groaned again.

  I nodded. “So, you’re called Meg and you live at The Dead Duck.”

  She drew her knife–the one she used for cutting purses. “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  Chapter Eight

  The Cutpurse and the Coffin

  I grinned. “Make a deal with you,” I said.

  Inside The Dead Duck we all sat around the table. Me and my family, Meg and her dad. The two men shook hands.

  “It’s a fine idea,” the landlord said.

  My father nodded. “We take our show on the road again. But this time, Meg calls us “cheats” and starts a riot. While the mob is crowding round us, Meg nips their purses. We meet up later and share the money.”

  We shared the money from Meg’s purses and it was enough to buy us a horse and cart.

  A week later we were on the road and travelling all around Britain. It was a hard and dangerous life we lived for the next five years. But it kept us going through the hard days of Henry VIII’s reign. In time, we made enough money to buy a tavern and give up our lives of trickery and theft … although Father still makes some money from mumchance games.

  Now some people may say that what we did was not honest. It was cheating.

  When we were caught, we were put in the stocks and whipped.

  If Meg had been caught, she could have been hanged.

  When fat King Henry VIII cheated, he got away with it because he was king.

  When Father stabbed me, it was a game and no one was hurt.

  When Henry sent sly-eyed Anne Boleyn and his fifth queen, little Catherine Howard, to be beheaded, it was for real.

  So who was the biggest cheat?

  Even Will Somers knows the answer to that ... and he’s a fool!

  Afterword

  The Terrible Truth

  The Thief, the Fool and the Big Fat King is a story based on real people and events.

  In Tudor times, St Paul’s churchyard in the centre of London was a meeting place for all sorts of people. Even in the church itself, traders bought and sold stuff. There were shows in the churchyard and some of them were tricks–made to fool people into giving money. The pig’s bladder trick worked well, though one day a drunken “victim” forgot to put a wooden board under his shirt and was really stabbed to death.

  King Henry VIII took the throne when his father died and was one of the richest kings in the world. But he wasted his careful father’s wealth. His court fool was Will Somers and we know a little about Will because several books were written about him.

  By the time Henry married Anne Boleyn, he didn’t have a lot of money to waste on card games. He’d spent it all. Henry loved to play–but hated to lose.

  Henry VIII was like a big spoilt child–he had to have his own way. When he didn’t get it, he turned violent and two of his wives were beheaded because of his vicious temper.

  Henry VIII was not the sort of man you’d want to play cards with–or, if you did, you’d be happy to lose your money to save your life!