The Silence of Stones

by Jeri Westerson

  The man’s attention was elsewhere – on a group of chattering ladies. They curtseyed to him and he bowed to them. Jack slid forward, flashed his knife swiftly to the purse’s ties, and slipped away as discreetly as he’d arrived, pouch in hand.

  Until something dragged hard on his hood.

  When he turned, he looked into the scowling face of the man called McGuffin.

  ‘Just what do you think you’re doing, my lad?’ He glared down at the pouch Jack hadn’t been swift enough to secret inside his own.

  Jack squeezed it tighter and blinked innocently. ‘Are you speaking to me, good master?’

  The man had not relinquished his hold of Jack’s hood and wound it slowly around his hand, drawing Jack closer.

  ‘Don’t play the fool with me, boy. Give it back.’

  Jack clutched the pouch tighter but resisted the urge to hold it behind his back. He girded himself and narrowed his eyes. ‘I know what’s in here,’ he said in low tones.

  The man’s eyes widened. ‘You … you don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Oh, but I do. And so, good master,’ he said with a sneer, ‘perhaps you’d best step back away from me.’

  ‘Who are you working for?’ The hood was entirely wound about his hand and wrist now, and he yanked Jack in tight. ‘For the Mormaer?’ he whispered.

  Jack shrugged out of his grip at last and stepped back. ‘I am the queen’s man. I’m for England. And you’d best step aside, for you have trespassed on the Tracker’s apprentice.’

  The man’s eyes widened even more. ‘The Tracker?’ He looked around, obviously searching for him.

  ‘He’s not here, but never fear, for I shall warn him of you.’

  Abruptly, the man barked a hail of nervous laughter. ‘It seems I cannot escape the Tracker. But if he is not here …’ He drew his sword. ‘Then I need not worry over any interference. I doubt that a boy such as you would garner much sympathy after I take back my stolen purse.’

  Uh oh. Jack blinked hard. He hadn’t thought of that.

  He drew his knife, but when he measured it to McGuffin’s sword his blood ran cold.

  McGuffin raised the blade and Jack cringed, taking a step back. His mind whirred with a thousand ways to escape, but none of them would get him very far. But with the blade rushing toward him, he froze. He gasped the beginning of a prayer.

  A fierce clang, and he looked up to see the blade blocked.

  Henry Derby’s blade had stopped it, and his eyes, bright and wide, took in the two of them. ‘What the hell is this?’ he cried.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Henry swung, smacking McGuffin’s blade aside. McGuffin stumbled back, arm lowered. ‘I have no quarrel with you, your grace.’

  ‘But you would brandish a sword on this boy?’

  ‘He … he stole a purse from me!’

  Henry swiveled toward Jack, but kept his sword at the ready. ‘Did you?’

  ‘I beg you to hear the whole tale, my lord,’ Jack pleaded.

  Henry scowled but then turned that scowl toward McGuffin. The Scot seemed to get the message and sheathed his own weapon. ‘Perhaps this man will explain,’ said Henry, sword lowered but still drawn.

  The man looked from Henry to Jack and aside to where the men of the courtyard were beginning to approach. He offered a sudden smile. ‘Now that I think on it, I could very well be mistaken. I will let the matter rest, if the boy will do so as well.’

  Astounded at the man’s gall, Jack grimaced.

  But Henry was waiting. Would he let the miscreant go? Jack had the brooch in hand and the churl was not likely to bedevil the queen again.

  He spread a smile over his teeth. ‘Aye,’ he said slowly. ‘I’m sure this fine gentleman meant me no harm.’

  Henry blinked. ‘Meant you no harm?’

  ‘Aye, your grace. He … er … merely bumped into me. And it is an easy mistake, thinking his purse was gone. No harm done.’ Jack saluted McGuffin with a wink.

  Henry took his time sheathing his sword. ‘If the boy has no complaint then neither do I. But be careful next time, my lord, on whom you draw your sword.’

  ‘I shall be, Laird Derby.’ He bowed low, gave Jack one last narrowed glance, and sauntered – rather quickly, Jack thought – toward the Great Gate.

  Jack’s euphoria lasted only moments before Henry gripped his arm so tightly the blood drained out of it. Neither of them said a word as they traveled the corridors, Henry’s grip remaining tight while Jack stumbled after.

  When they reached Henry’s lodgings he cast open the door and shoved Jack through. Tripping and rolling, Jack landed against the hearth. He heard the scrambling of servants’ feet, but when he looked up they were alone. And Henry looked murderous.

  Jack got up onto his knees. ‘My lord, there is an explanation.’

  ‘There may be, Tucker, but you have deliberately defied me. You deserve a beating.’

  ‘And you may do so in justice, my lord. But before you do, I beg you to call in Lady Katherine.’

  ‘Knave. Would you involve her in your misdeeds?’

  ‘By the saints, I would not. But she knows what I have been about.’

  ‘And why is it you cannot tell me?’

  ‘It is a matter of some delicacy.’

  ‘So you keep saying. But by God, Tucker! Delicacy or no, you are ruining me.’

  ‘I beg you most humbly to forgive me, your grace. I would never willingly hurt you or your house. I am as loyal to it as my master is.’

  Henry’s eyes scoured him just as surely as he had used a hard brush. Jack felt the prickle all over, the prickle of suspicion, of disbelief and discontent. But he also saw the earl’s eyes soften just that much, and the man took a deep breath, expelled it, and studied Jack some more. At last, he turned his face aside, seeming to argue with his angels, and threw his hands in the air. ‘I don’t know how Crispin suffers you.’

  ‘He suffers greatly from me, I’m certain.’

  ‘And yet he does suffer you … because he trusts you. And is there no man more loyal?’

  ‘No, your grace. It is why I serve him.’

  Henry nodded, shrugged. ‘Very well. Waterton!’

  The steward appeared smoothly from where he had been waiting in an alcove. ‘Your grace?’

  ‘Send for Lady Katherine. We will await her.’

  Waterton bowed, but Jack had not missed the scowl he directed toward him as he left to his duty.

  ‘Tucker. Serve wine.’

  Jack bowed and scurried to comply as Henry unstrapped his sword, laid it on the table, and sat before the fire.

  He offered the earl wine and then stood behind him as Master Crispin had taught him.

  ‘No,’ said Henry, after taking a sip. ‘You will stand where I can see you, you knave.’

  Sheepishly, Jack stepped forward, keeping his face lowered.

  ‘You are a handful, are you not? It seems no one obeys me in my own house. Lady Katherine was to be in Essex with my wife, and I thought I told Hugh to keep you under lock and key.’

  ‘He … he did, your grace.’

  ‘What? Oh ho! Broke out, did you? You are a wily fellow. No wonder Crispin likes you so much.’

  Jack’s face heated. He did not know if it were more from embarrassment or pride.

  He waited uncomfortably under Henry’s gaze as the earl silently sipped his wine. Henry seemed amused by Jack’s discomfiture, which, Jack supposed, was only just.

  The door opened and Waterton led the way. Behind him was a stern-looking Lady Katherine. Jack winced. He had failed them all again. If he had only made it back to his cage before anyone had noticed! Sloppy, that’s what it was, he admonished. What would Master Crispin say?

  But more to the point, what would Lady Katherine say, for she appeared in a state. ‘Lord Henry, I apologize again for this boy’s misbehavior. It is my fault that he has fallen into your hands, and I beg your forgiveness.’

  ‘No, Lady Katherine!’ Jack cried. ‘It i
sn’t your fault at all. It’s all mine. I … I can’t be tamed. Lord knows Master Crispin has tried, but I am as wild a creature as when he first met me. The man is a saint, there is no denying it.’ His voice caught and the tears flowed. He had no idea that they would come and he angrily wiped at his face. Here he was, nearly a man, and he could not control himself. He’d never become a Tracker at this rate.

  ‘You are a handful, Master Tucker,’ she muttered, reaching for him. She didn’t seem to be able to keep herself from offering comfort. But he wriggled out of her embrace. No! He didn’t deserve it! He had disobeyed and done the very thing Henry had warned him against. He was a danger to them. Better that he rot in a cell than do so again.

  ‘You must put me back in the dungeons, Lady Katherine, for the Devil gets inside of me and I cannot keep my word.’

  ‘Cannot keep your word?’ She cocked her head. Her hands enfolded gracefully together. ‘But you have been trying to do the deed assigned to you by the queen, have you not?’

  Henry inhaled sharply.

  Jack blinked away the tears and nodded, staring at the floor.

  ‘No one blames you for trying, Master Tucker. And certainly, under the circumstances, she cannot blame you for failing.’

  He snapped his head up. ‘Oh, but I didn’t fail. I have it! I mean, I have done the, er, deed for her majesty. If you would send me to her …’

  Henry slowly rose. ‘Wait. This miscreant was truly on a mission for the queen?’

  Lady Katherine gave one nod. Jack thought he saw her wink at him.

  He looked at Jack. ‘And you … you accomplished it?’

  ‘So he has said. Is it true, Master Tucker?’

  ‘Aye, my lady, your grace. I have.’ He stood a little straighter.

  ‘I’ll be damned,’ said Henry.

  Lady Katherine sniffed. ‘Henry,’ she warned.

  ‘Pardon my language, my Lady Governess. But under the circumstances …’

  ‘I suppose so.’ She beamed.

  ‘Erm … Hugh.’ Henry turned to his steward. ‘Could you get a message to the queen? Ask her most humbly if she might come to my chambers. That there might be something to her advantage— No. Tell her instead that Master Tucker—’

  ‘Her Goat, your grace.’

  Henry looked askance at Jack.

  Jack blushed. ‘Er … she calls me her Goat. She does not know my true name.’

  Amusement glittered in Henry’s eyes. ‘Hugh, tell her majesty that her … Goat … has a message he wishes to convey to her personally. Will that do, Master Tucker?’

  ‘Aye, your grace. I think that will do very well. Er … thank you, sir.’

  ‘Don’t mention it.’ Henry tried to hide his smile when he faced his stunned steward. ‘You’d best go, Hugh.’

  The steward bowed. ‘Yes, my lord.’

  Henry watched him go distractedly. ‘I don’t suppose you can tell us what this mission was, Master Tucker.’

  ‘I … no, your grace. I would if I were at liberty.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I suppose you would. You can be a tight-lipped fellow. That is a most useful trait in a trusted servant.’

  ‘I try to be so, my lord.’

  Henry snorted.

  It took longer than Jack expected. He supposed, while he had been standing in one spot for over an hour, that you couldn’t just summon a queen. Henry and Lady Katherine had fallen into light conversation. She had taken a seat by the fire with him and they had discussed small household matters, with Lady Katherine exchanging stories of Henry’s wife and child.

  Yet, the more time passed, the more anxious Jack became. Besides the queen, he had to get a message to Master Crispin regarding that McGuffin and Brother Andrew. It might mean they could find the Stone, and with the Commons meeting tomorrow, Jack knew he was out of time.

  He wiped the sweat from his brow again. ‘I beg your pardon, my lord,’ he ventured quietly, when there was a pause in the conversation.

  Henry turned toward him with surprise written on his brow. ‘Yes, Master Tucker?’

  ‘Well, sir. It’s just … I thought this would be done sooner …’

  ‘You can’t rush a queen, Tucker.’

  ‘Aye, that I know. But … I urgently need to get a message to my master.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Aye. I can write it down for you.’

  ‘Bless me, you can write?’

  ‘Aye. My master taught me.’

  Henry chuckled. ‘Is there no end to the saintliness of Crispin Guest?’ He laughed at his own jest. ‘Tucker, go fetch a servant and have him bring quill, ink, and parchment.’

  He bowed awkwardly and scurried to the doorway. To his surprise a page was waiting just within earshot. Jack didn’t even need to say anything as the boy nodded and ran to comply.

  ‘Sit here,’ Henry was saying. He had risen and gestured toward a small table with a chair tucked into it. The page arrived just then and placed the items on the table, bowed to Henry, and left again, no doubt to hide in the archway, awaiting instructions.

  Jack pulled out the chair and sat. He took up the quill, examined the nib, and dipped it in the ink. Looking over his shoulder, he noticed Henry hovering there. Did he wish to witness for himself the trained monkey aping his betters? Jack knew that was an uncharitable thought, but that’s how it looked to him. He settled himself more comfortably on the chair, leaned his other arm on the table, and bent down over the parchment, tongue clenched between his teeth. With the quill, he slowly and carefully scratched in the words, telling briefly about Andrew and McGuffin and their exchange. When he’d finished, he took up the pounce-pot and shook the sand out onto the parchment. He blew the excess off and handed the paper to Henry.

  Henry read it over with a whistle. ‘What is this part here, “ach-ishkeh”?’

  Jack shook his head. ‘I know not, your grace. It was what I heard. I hope Master Crispin can make head or tail of it.’

  ‘I agree that this should get to Crispin with all haste. I will make my own enquiries.’

  ‘Thank you, my lord.’

  Yet still Henry paused. Jack reasoned he was deciding if one of his pages should be seen sending messages to a traitor.

  ‘I will take it,’ said Lady Katherine, startling them both.

  Henry awkwardly handed over the parchment. ‘Lady Katherine, I …’

  ‘I do understand, Henry,’ she said softly. ‘But I will send a messenger to convey it to Crispin.’ She folded it and carefully placed it in her scrip. ‘Please offer my apologies to her majesty that I could not greet her, but I know how urgent this message is.’ She patted Jack on the shoulder. ‘I will get it there in all haste, never fear.’

  She said her farewells to Henry and was gone. Jack felt better about that, that his message would soon get to his master, but now he waited alone with Henry for the queen to come.

  After another long time, Henry smiled. ‘I was just recalling a time in my past when Crispin took me riding. I was a very young lad, I think. Seven or eight, perhaps, and I had fallen from my horse. I recall Crispin’s face. Oh, he was terrified that he had allowed his charge to be killed. And I wept bitterly and loudly, though I had hurt little but my pride. He tried everything to calm me, for he did not wish to tell my father that I had fallen. I managed to cajole out of him a small bow that I had coveted but that my father had declined to give me. Poor Crispin. I’m afraid I was rather spoiled and, in his eagerness to indulge me, I made a nuisance of myself. Of course, my father did find out later about my having fallen and of my exacted gift, and he forced me to surrender it back to Crispin, with more crying and lamentation I am loath to say. What a wicked child. I have tried to learn from those memories, Tucker. I have tried to comport myself with fairness and with dignity. But …’ He sighed. ‘I fear the boy I was sometimes intrudes on the man I am today.’ He studied Jack from his seat. ‘You were naughty yourself today, Master Tucker.’

  ‘And I heartily do apologize, my lord. I shall do my penance.’


  ‘You were anxious, as any boy your age would be. And you have the sword of Damocles hanging over your head. How could I blame you?’

  Jack squinted above him, but reckoned that the sword Lord Henry spoke of was some sort of adage. The queen’s brooch had been a fine distraction. But now that it was done, he could not help but consider the morrow and whether Master Crispin was as good as his word. The fear he had kept at bay rushed in upon him, and he choked back a sob.

  Henry was there beside him in a wink. ‘I told you that story to take your mind from your troubles, but I think I did the very opposite. Forgive me, Jack.’

  Jack shook his head. He couldn’t speak.

  Henry slid his arm around the boy’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze before releasing him. ‘I wouldn’t worry. You know Crispin better than I these days. He will not disappoint you.’

  ‘But what if he can’t … can’t find it, your grace?’ He hated how small his voice sounded, but more would not come from the thickness of his throat. ‘I don’t want to die,’ he whispered.

  He held Jack tighter. ‘I would plead for you myself, but I am out of favor with the king. I fear I’d only make it worse.’

  Worse? What could be worse than execution? Jack nodded to Henry nonetheless. It was all he could do.

  The door opened, and a page stepped through. ‘Her majesty, our gracious Queen Anne,’ he announced.

  The queen entered with Lady Margaret, and Jack hastily wiped at his face and straightened his coat.

  Henry bowed low and entreated the queen to sit. She did so but looked uncomfortable. The situation was awkward, Jack conceded. After all, it wasn’t as if the queen could readily admit what Jack had done for her.

  Jack looked imploringly at the earl.

  Henry smiled. ‘It looks as if you have private business with her majesty and I must attend to my own duties. I hope, madam, that you will forgive me if I leave you here with your … your friend.’

  The queen appeared suddenly grateful and she offered her hand to kiss, which Henry did with great aplomb. He bowed to her again and left without a backward glance. Lady Margaret seemed to see this as her cue to leave as well and she exited through an archway, giving Jack a wink. But Jack noticed her shadow lingering, as was proper for any lady’s maid.