The Londum Omnibus Volume One (The Londum Series Book 4)

by Tony Rattigan

  ‘Okay, we’ll give it a try,’ he agreed.

  Cobb finished his breakfast and took a gold nugget out of his pocket. He placed it on the table in front of her. ‘I’d like you to take this, to pay for my keep while I’ve been here.’

  ‘I couldn’t possibly accept that,’ she said. ‘It’s far too much.’

  ‘Please. I want you to have it. It’s not even mine, I was given it so I want you to have it. Do you know anywhere to exchange it for money without them making a fuss about it?’

  ‘Yes, I think I might know someone who will change it for me without telling anyone.’

  ‘Good, well take it then, I want you to have it.’

  ‘Thank you, thank you so much.’

  Esme cleared the breakfast things away while Cobb harnessed the horse to the cart. Then they were off to Brimidgham.

  It was a bright day with not a cloud in the sky but it was still cold, despite the sunshine. The cart was only small and most of the space was taken by Esme’s produce, so they walked alongside it, either side of the horse.

  ‘Is every one as poor … er … as hardworking as you?’ asked Cobb.

  ‘Pretty much, your average Anglishman spends most of his time fighting the land to squeeze a living out of it.’

  ‘Then who owns that bunch of cows?’ he said, pointing to a field they were passing.

  ‘Herd of ….’

  ‘Heard of what?’

  ‘Herd of cows.’

  ‘Sure I’ve heard of cows? What do you take me for?’

  (That joke works better if you say it out loud.)

  Esme said, ‘You’re really not a country man, are you?’

  ‘Nope, I’m a city boy, me. Seriously, who owns all of them, and the land they’re on?’

  ‘All the good land around here is owned by the Castilian Dons. They settled here after the Armada and claimed all the prime lands for their own. There are three major ones around these parts. There’s Don Diego Garcia, Don Ramon Duarte and then there is Don Corleone … he has the biggest family around here.’

  ‘And don’t you think that there should be more of a distribution of wealth, so that the people of Angleland actually have a share of some of the good things that Angleland has to offer. It is theirs after all.’

  Esme looked as if she was about to say something but just contented herself by muttering, ‘It’s God’s will,’ and withdrew into herself.

  After a while Cobb broke the silence, ‘Tell me about this resistance movement.’

  ‘Oh them,’ she said. ‘Bad people. They call themselves “The Lillibetans” in honour of Bad Queen Lillibet. They try to get the people to rise up against our rulers.’

  ‘How do they do that?’

  ‘They’re very subversive. They print leaflets and daub jokes and limericks on the walls of the towns. They think that people should be free to sing and dance and enjoy themselves freely … even though it is forbidden.’

  ‘And what do you feel?’

  ‘That we should obey the rules, it’s God’s will.’

  Cobb left it at that; he wasn’t going to change a lifetime of indoctrination with a short chat.

  After a moment he asked her, ‘Don’t you think it’s strange that of all the people I could have run into in Angleland, I end up at your farm, the duplicate of the very person that meant the most to me where I come from? And I’m the match of your dead Rufus. What are the odds of us meeting and becoming involved in both worlds?’

  ‘I think it’s so strange that it goes way beyond coincidence,’ she replied. ‘I’m beginning to believe that everything that happens is because of some master plan. That someone already has this all mapped out.’

  They were silent as they walked until a castle became visible on the hillside, ahead.

  ‘That is Castle Greystone,’ Esme told him. ‘It’s the headquarters of the Black Guard and the local Dons. It’s where they lock up the religious prisoners; the Questioning also takes place there.’

  Cobb looked at the castle and his blood ran cold. The castle was a gaunt, ugly blot against the sky. Built of dark grey stone that gave it its name, it dominated the countryside so that no one within sight of it could forget the power of the Black Guard. It was perfectly square and at each corner of the square there were two towers.

  They followed the trail for a few miles more and it led eventually around the hills on which Castle Greystone stood on the outskirts of Brimidgham, until they came finally to the town itself.

  Esme led the way through the crowded streets towards the market in the centre of town. It was certainly big enough to be the capital; Cobb had begun to think that Angleland was made up of only villages.

  Esme stopped the cart outside a little pawnshop and, after asking Cobb to wait, she entered the shop.

  As he waited there, stroking the horse, he couldn’t help but notice words daubed on some of the walls around him, which had been hastily scrubbed out or painted over. But he could still make out the words.

  MY DOGS GOT NO NOSE.

  HOW DOES HE SMELL?

  AWFUL!

  And then there was …

  WHAT DO YOU CALL A MAN WITH A SPADE IN HIS HEAD?

  DOUG!

  And also …

  WHAT’S THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN

  SNOW MEN AND SNOW WOMEN?

  SNOW BALLS!

  Not to mention …

  WHAT DO YOU CALL A FLY

  WITH NO WINGS?

  A WALK!

  My Gods, he realised, they were jokes! It must be the Lillibetans. He considered the standard of the jokes. While he admired their nerve for standing up to authority, he had to admit they were sadly lacking in the humour department. Still, he supposed, if humour was an underground movement here, then there wouldn’t be much chance to exchange jokes and practice your art.

  The shop doorbell rang as Esme came out, tucking her purse under her skirt.

  ‘Well, what do you think of those jokes?’ Cobb asked Esme, pointing at the wall.

  ‘Quiet,’ she cautioned him, ‘it’s an offence to be seen reading them.’

  ‘Oh, okay then, let’s move on’ he agreed.

  She led the way into the market place, known as the Ox-Round, as on certain days of the week it became a cattle market. Today it was filled with stalls or just carts doubling as stalls. It was open to all-comers and Esme found a spot near the edge of the circular market place. At the other side of the circle, Brimidgham’s Cathedral dominated the market place.

  She un-harnessed the horse and led it off to water it and then hitch it to a rail, while Cobb offloaded the cart.

  Esme came back and helped Cobb open the sacks and place little plates of wood with the price written on in charcoal. As she straightened up Cobb heard her groan and watched her face drop. He turned in the direction she was looking.

  Moving around the edge of the market was a group of men, the first one was on horseback and the other dozen or so were on foot. The foot soldiers were dressed all in black, leather armour except for a white collar, topped by a black breastplate. They all wore metal helmets and except for the mounted leader, they all carried pike-staffs. They were the same as the rider that Cobb had seen on the road, days earlier.

  ‘So, the Black Guard, eh? What’s the matter with them?’ Cobb asked her.

  ‘It’s the local Black Guard Commander … Captain Luther Tendenning. He’s sort of … taken a shine to me. When he sees me he always makes a point of coming over to talk.’

  Cobb looked at him more closely. Unlike his men, he wore no breastplate, which allowed Cobb to study his physique. He supposed that once he might have been a strapping figure of a man but too many years of good living and not enough exercise had taken their toll on him. His belly stretched his leather tunic to its limits and his double chins hung over his collar.

  Tendenning spotted Esme and after a word to his men to remain where they were, he nudged his horse through the crowd and made his way to Cobb and Esme.

  ‘Good day Widow
Cobb, may God’s blessings be upon you this fine morning,’ he greeted her.

  ‘Good day to you Captain Tendenning,’ she replied coolly.

  ‘Oh please, how many times have I told you? Call me Luther.’

  He took a good look at Cobb for the first time, ‘Good God, you’re dead …’ he said, startled, ‘how can you be … here?’

  Esme opened her mouth to speak but Cobb got in first. ‘It’s not what you think. My name’s Rufus Cobb it’s true but I’m not her husband, I’m his cousin, up from Kent. We do have a strong resemblance I know. I’ve just come up to see how she’s doing on her own since my cousin died.’

  The Captain looked him up and down. ‘Just visiting are we? Not staying long then?’

  There was something about the man that instinctively got Cobb’s back up. Also he didn’t like the way he was looking at Esme, so he decided to wind him up a bit. ‘Well, I might be here a while, we’ll see how it goes. As long as Esme makes me welcome, I’ll stick around.’

  It obviously struck a nerve as Tendenning’s eyes narrowed as he stared at him wordlessly.

  Cobb wanted to cut the conversation short, as he didn’t want to get too involved with the local authorities, so he feigned being distracted by pulling out his fob watch to check the time against the Cathedral clock.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Tendenning. ‘I haven’t seen one of those before.’

  No of course you haven’t, thought Cobb, cursing his own stupidity, they haven’t been invented yet, have they? Aloud he said, ‘What? … This? This is just a pocket watch …er … you keep it in your pocket.’

  ‘May I?’ asked Tendenning, holding out his hand.

  Cobb grudgingly handed it over for him to inspect.

  ‘Fascinating, a small clock that you can carry in your pocket,’ murmured Tendenning. ‘So you can fit one of those,’ he said pointing at the Cathedral clock, ‘into something as small as this? Amazing. I’ve never even heard of these before.’

  ‘Oh they’re all the rage in … in …’ his mind went blank.

  ‘Kent,’ mouthed Esme silently from behind Tendenning.

  ‘Kent, yes, they’re all the fashion there, everyone’s got one … in Kent.’

  ‘I’d like to buy it, how much do you want for it?’

  ‘It’s not for sale,’ said Cobb firmly. ‘It was a present from someone.’ He held his hand out and Tendenning reluctantly dropped the watch into his palm.

  Esme turned her back on Tendenning and carried on labelling her carrots. ‘Good day Captain Tendenning,’ she said coldly.

  ‘Farewell, my sweet,’ he replied.

  ‘I’m not your sweet’, she muttered through gritted teeth.

  ‘Ah, not yet but hopefully one day.’ He gave Cobb another up and down look then nudged his horse to walk forward.

  ‘He’s a charmer, isn’t he?’ said Cobb, when Tendenning was out of earshot.

  ‘Like I said, he’s the local Black Guard commander which he thinks makes him God’s gift to women. He’s been trying to get close to me ever since Rufus died. He actually started trying to win me over at Rufus’ funeral, can you believe that? Offered me his protection. I’d rather starve,’ she said angrily, ‘but the problem is he won’t take no for an answer and keeps dropping by the farm when he is in the neighbourhood.’

  She took a moment to calm herself and then, as if to distract herself from Captain Tendenning, she asked, ‘So who was the watch a present from?’

  ‘You … well not actually you but you know what I mean, her. So, you’re not tempted by our dashing Captain then? Black Guard Commander, quite a fine catch you know,’ Cobb teased her.

  Esme didn’t answer, just dropped a bag of potatoes on his foot.

  ***

  Later that day, as the market was winding down, Esme disappeared for a time while Cobb kept an eye on the cart. When she came back some men carrying sacks were following her. They dumped their burdens on the now empty cart and took their leave.

  She looked at him and asked hesitantly, ‘Listen Rufus, I know you had plans to move on, but as you gave me that gold I’ve been able to buy more feed for the animals than I would have normally and I’ve also managed to get some other bits and pieces that would otherwise have had to wait. I don’t know if I’ll be able to manage it all by myself. Would you consider coming back to the farm with me for another night and helping me unload it?’

  Cobb was intrigued. He had seen her at work in the farm and knew she was quite capable of handling these sacks all by herself. And, he also knew when he was being “played”, so he went along for the ride to see where it was going. Harlequin would just have to wait another day to be rescued.

  They collected up the produce they hadn’t sold and Cobb collected the horse. He harnessed it to the cart and they left the city. Cobb noticed more wall daubings on the way out.

  LOOKS LIKE WE’RE IN FOR A BAD SPELL OF WHETHER.

  WHY DOES YOUR NOSE RUN AND YOUR FEET SMELL?

  WHY DOES A SQUIRREL SWIM ON ITS BACK?

  TO KEEP ITS NUTS DRY!

  Drinks at the Lodge

  Cobb waited until Esme went to bed then he sneaked out of the house. The last time he had followed her into the woods, she had lost him at the clearing. This time he planned on being ahead of the game. He was going to go to the point where he had lost her the night before and then wait for her to arrive. He hoped that if she felt that she hadn’t been followed, she might feel safer and wouldn’t take any evasive measures to throw him off the scent.

  He hid behind some scrub that gave him a view both down the track and out to the open clearing where she had disappeared the night before, and waited.

  Cobb waited there for a long time, nothing happened.

  He waited even longer but still nothing happened.

  Just as nothing was about to happen for the third time … Esme appeared on the path.

  He huddled down in the bushes and then kept perfectly still as she walked past him. Now he would be able see where she had disappeared to the night before. But instead of going out in the clearing as he expected, she followed the track around the bend and out of sight.

  Cobb rose to his feet slowly, puzzled by what he’d seen. She appeared to be going in a different direction from last night. He crept slowly through the bushes and out onto the track. He stood there waiting, to allow her to go some distance down the track before he followed her, when all of a sudden … somebody jumped on him and knocked him to the ground!

  Cobb went down onto his face, whoever had jumped him was laying across his back. He kicked his legs but then somebody else grabbed them. He wriggled around and managed to roll onto his back, squashing the breath out of his first attacker, only to find a third man standing over him. Cobb pulled a leg free and kicked him in the stomach. The man went down only to be replaced by yet a fourth attacker. Between them they managed to roll Cobb back onto his stomach, pinning his arms behind him and then bending his lower legs up behind him so he couldn’t move.

  One of them knelt on his legs while the others tied his hands behind him and forced a gag in his mouth. Then they pulled a rough, cloth sack over his head and proceeded to give him a kicking. They didn’t seem to be out to damage him as they left his head alone, they just concentrated on his body to take the wind out of his sails, so that when they lifted him up onto his feet, he was in no condition to argue.

  They walked him a few hundred yards until he heard the creak of a wooden door and they went down some steps. Steps? … in a wood? thought Cobb. Where the hell am I? Where was Esme, what had they done to her?

  They ran him down the steps and as he hit the ground he heard the door slam behind him. They dragged him further into wherever it was that they were and forced him to kneel. Cobb could see through the heavy sack that it was lighter here so they were in a lit room. He could just make out through the sack, hazy, indiscriminate figures standing around him.

  They just stood there, watching him; the room was silent, all Cobb could hear wa
s the pounding of the blood in his ears. Eventually, someone reached under the sack and pulled the gag out of his mouth.

  Cobb gasped for air; he’d thought he was going to suffocate behind that gag. As he panted to get air into his lungs he missed the first question. A sharp kick in the ribs caught his attention and they asked it again.

  ‘I said, what’s your name?’ It was a man’s voice.

  In a situation like this, Cobb figured you could either play ignorant or belligerent. Until he found out what was going on, he would go for ignorant. ‘What … what’s going on? I haven’t done anything wrong, you’ve no right to do this to me.’

  ‘What’s your name?’ punctuated by a kick in the ribs.

  Cobb was just about to answer with the name of the carter that brought him to Cofatree, Tom Harris, when a second voice said, ‘We’ve been watching you at the Widow Cobb’s farm.’

  There was a sharp, muttered comment that Cobb couldn’t make out but he thought that the second speaker was being admonished. Oops! Gave out too much information there, didn’t you? thought Cobb. Now I know not to lie about my name or that I’ve been to the farm.

  ‘My name’s Rufus Cobb, I’m staying at the farm with my cousin’s widow, Esme Cobb. That’s all, I’m her family, that’s all. Who are you, what’s going on?’

  ‘We are the Black Guard. We’ve been watching Widow Cobb’s farm for some time. We have plenty of evidence of Witchcraft, Fornication and Lechery. We’ve witnessed evenings of Drinking, Dancing and … telling Jokes! What do you say to these charges?’

  ‘You’re mistaken, nothing like that’s happened there, I’ve seen nothing like that at all … you’re mistaken I tell you.’

  No one replied straight away, he could see the hazy images move together and he heard them muttering but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Eventually, they broke apart and one of them came and knelt in front of him.

  It was the one who had been doing most of the talking and he spoke to Cobb slowly and clearly. ‘Now listen to me carefully. We know that you haven’t been on that farm for long, so we know that whatever is going on you can’t be too deeply involved. And we know that Esme Cobb is a very attractive woman, one who could easily turn a man’s head.