by Sam Burnell
A Queen’s Knight
First published in eBook and paperback 2018
This edition 2018
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© Sam Burnell 2018
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The right of Sam Burnell to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the writer. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Please note, this book is written in British English, so some spellings will vary from US English.
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Dedicated to
Mooster
CHARACTER LIST
Fitzwarren Household
William Fitzwarren – father of Richard and Robert
Eleanor Fitzwarren – his wife
Robert Fitzwarren – Richard’s brother
Jack Fitzwarren – William’s son, Richard’s brother
Richard Fitzwarren – William’s son
Harry Fitzwarren – Richard and Jack’s cousin
Edward Fitzwarren – Richard and Jack’s Cousin
Edwin – William’s Servant
Ronan – William’s Steward
Edward Fitzwarren – Richard and Jack’s Cousin
The English Court
William Cecil – Secretary of State
Christopher Morley – Cecil’s man
Kate Ashley – Elizabeth’s governess
Lawyers
Clement – Robert Fitzwarren’s Lawyer
Luterell – William Fitzwarren’s Lawyer
Marcus Drover – Clement’s assistant
Richard’s Mercenary Band
Dan – Also a family servant
Marc
Froggy Tate
Pierre
Marc
Thomas Gent
Andrew Kineer
Master Scranton
Knights Of St John
Claude de la Sengle – Grand Master
Emilio – A Knight of the Order
Brother Caron – De la Sengle’s aide
Brother Rodrigo – Head of Ordnance
Other Characters
Lizbet – A Servant
Catherine de Bernay – Servant at Durham Place
Introduction
It had been a long night.
Jack’s head was pounding. He’d slept little and when he awoke in the morning the enormity of the previous night’s horror returned with sickening suddenness. Sitting up quickly he looked over to the bed where his brother lay. Whether he was asleep or unconscious, Jack did not know.
Lizbet was kneeling near Richard, a hand in his. Hearing Jack, she turned and smiling reassuringly. “He’s asleep.”
Jack exhaled loudly and lay back down but the refuge of sleep was at an end. Outside a cock was crowing and from the inn yard came the dull thunder of empty barrels rolling across the flagged yard. The cockerel crowed again. Jack winced as the harsh noise seared through his head.
“Here, have this.” Lizbet held out a cup of ale.
Jack, sitting up with his back against the wall, took the offered cup and looked across the wreckage of the cold room. The smell of blood was still tangible, the ripped shirt still lay on the floor and the blanket crusted now with dried brown stains lay in a heap next to it. Richard, when he had fallen, had pulled over the table and it was still there on its side, the clothes that had been neatly folded now scattered and creased.
Jack rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. He might not be in Marshalsea but he had never felt more alone. This time his brother had left him simply because he did not want to live, and he had brutally forced him to stay. Life was different today, he was alone, and the connection he had always felt was gone. Dropping his head into his hands he couldn’t contain the anguished sob that escaped his throat.
“Mary and all the Saints! Not you as well!” Lizbet’s voice cut across the room, devoid of sympathy.
Jack looked up. “Shut up, woman!”
“I’ll not,” Lizbet said standing up. “You made him swear, I heard you. Well, he’s here and he needs you.” Then she said, her own voice nearly breaking, “We both need you.”
Jack looked up, his eyes unusually bright meeting hers.
Before he could reply, Lizbet was righting the chair and table, turning her back on him so he couldn’t see the tears on her face. “I can smell fresh bread. I’ll be back with some soon.”
Closing the room door behind her, Lizbet took two faltering steps before she could contain the tears no more and leaning against the wooden wall, buried her face in her apron.
The door opened behind her and a strong arm guided her back into the room. “You sit down. I’ll get the bread.”
†
Later on that morning, Lizbet carefully steered the conversation round to the subject of Andrew, giving Jack a constructive focus for his anger.
“We’ve waited too long already.” Jack’s temper flared. “That cur has everything, the money, the bloody flintlocks, the men, everything. We have what we are standing up in.”
“Not quite.” Lizbet slipped her hand in her pocket. “I’ve still got some of this left.” She pulled the leather bag from her pocket that held what was left of the jewels from Elizabeth’s shoes.
“God love you, lass. You should have kept your money and left the pair of us to rot.” Jack’s anger faded seeing the eager look on her face and the offering in her hand.
“I tried to tell you,” Lizbet reminded him.
“I know, and blind fool that I am I didn’t listen to you,” Jack replied resignedly.
Lizbet looked shocked.
“What’s that look on your face for?” Jack said.
“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say were wrong!” Lizbet’s eyes were still wide. “That’s an admission I never thought I’d hear.”
“Well you’ve heard it now. I thought he was something he wasn’t.” Jack ignored her attempt at humour.
“If he’s shown you that you can be wrong then all was not wasted,” Lizbet said a little bitingly.
“He had us all fooled,” Jack said sadly, then looking closely at Lizbet, added, “Why not you?”
Lizbet shrugged. “He never liked me. Mind you I think I know why now.” Then quickly before Jack could say anything she added, “Do you think Dan and Froggy will come back?”
“I don’t know, it depends on what Andrew tells them,” Jack replied, adding thoughtfully, “He’ll want to keep them with him if he can.”
“Especially Froggy, he’s the one with the skills to make the flintlock balls, and if he intends to take the Master’s place and still put this deal before the Knights then he needs Froggy,” Lizbet agreed.
Jack nodded. “Andrew has everything; the only thing he doesn’t know is where the rest of the flintlocks are hidden. Richard wouldn’t even tell me that.”
“I caught Andrew in the Master’s room weeks ago going through his papers. Could he have found out then?” Lizbet sounded worried.
“Oh God! When did that happen? Not that it would matter much anyway, he’s got the coffer that Richard kept all the papers in so… Oh for God’s sake… ” Jack stood suddenly as he realised that Andrew had the papers signed by his father proclaiming him as heir. He groaned loudly, pushing his hands through his hair.
“What? Tell me?” Lizbet said, rising to take hold of
his arm.
“He’s got everything, literally everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh God!” The enormity of the situation began to dawn on Jack and he sat down heavily, a tight knot in his stomach. The face that looked up at Lizbet was white. “He knows who I am, he knows probably where the guns are hidden, he’s got all the papers Richard took from his father, he’s got the communications from the lawyer in England, and Richard’s letters from the Order as well. Chances are there would be something in there that will lead him to where the guns are hidden in London.”
“What do you mean? He knows who you are?” Lizbet was utterly confused. When he didn’t answer she placed one of her small hands on his shoulder and shook him. “What are you talking about?”
“That’s not important now. What’s important is that Andrew has enough at hand to be able to pass himself off as Richard. I have to assume that he thinks he knows where the guns are otherwise he’d not have tried to kill Richard. So there must have been something in the coffer that told him where they were.”
Lizbet was just looking at him blankly.
“What are you staring at woman?”
“Who are you? What did you mean?” Lizbet sounded confused.
“It’s a long, long story I would be glad to tell you, lass, but not today. Right now we need to find a way to stop him. So let’s think about this. He’s going to want to keep Froggy, and he’ll not want Dan coming back here to help us, so what’s he going to do?”
Lizbet thought about it for a moment. “Dan’s loyal to the Master. He’d not leave him, and he’d not watch Andrew press on without him.”
A grim expression settled on Jack’s face. “That’s what I thought as well. He’ll need to rid himself of Dan and persuade Froggy to stay with him.”
Jack stood suddenly.
“What are you going to do?”
“I need to ride south, catch them up. Warn Dan at the very least, and if I can I will stop Andrew.”
“What with, for God’s sake? Jack, you’ve got nothing! Not a sword or a knife, you’ve not even got a jacket.”
Jack was smiling now, and reaching out a hand he ran it down her cheek. “Life has been a lot worse. I’ve got a lucky lass with a purse filled with pearls.”
“There’s not much left after we used them to bribe our way into the castle, but you’re welcome to them.” Lizbet fished back into her pocket and handed Jack the leather pouch.
Jack shook out what there was left into his palm; she was right, there wasn’t much left.
“We were in a hurry. I didn’t get anything near what they were worth for them,” Lizbet said sorrowfully.
“I will fill that purse for you again, trust me.” Jack put an arm round her shoulders, pulled her close and planted a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t leave him alone while I’m gone, and make sure he stays here.”
Lizbet, turning to observe the man on the bed, said, “Jack, I don’t think you need to worry on that score.”
†
Lizbet was however wrong. Richard had dressed with shaking hands and was standing in the room arguing with Lizbet when Jack returned. She looked to Jack for help. “I told him to stay where he was but he wouldn’t listen to me.”
“Be fair to the lass, she’s only trying to do what I told her to,” Jack said, then seeing the look on his brother’s face he added firmly, “You are not coming with me.”
Richard’s eyes were unusually dark, the skin on his face pale and tightly drawn, and when he spoke it was with apparent effort. “I am coming with you.”
Jack threw his arms wide. “We have between us one horse, one sword that’s blunter than Thor’s hammer.” He tapped the blade he had just acquired, buckled to his waist. “We have with us, do not forget, our gracious sister.” He gestured at Lizbet. “Who has neither horse nor money. I cannot take care of both of you! Stop here with Lizbet. I can leave you enough money for that and I will stop Andrew.”
“I said, I am coming with you,” Richard repeated, staring at his brother from hollow darkened eyes.
Lizbet looked Jack squarely in the face. “Looks like we’re both coming with you then.”
Richard and Lizbet walked past him, leaving him staring at the wall. “Nobody ever listens to me – it must be a skill,” Jack grumbled to the empty room before turning to follow them.
Chapter 1
A Hand Revealed
Andrew shook his head in disbelief. There was so much of interest in the wooden coffer Richard had kept locked that had contained the marked guns. When he had taken the flintlocks from their secure resting place, he had noted the bundle of tied papers, but there had not been the time then for a lengthy investigation into the extent of the Master’s secrets. They were resting now, just north of Venice and this was the first time he had been afforded the opportunity to work through them methodically.
The pace of the journey so far had been a brutal one, so determined was Andrew to make it to the Venetian capital and strike a deal for the cargo he was confident he now had to offer. He hoped the negotiations would be swift and that he would be on his way back north to England quickly. Once there he could collect the flintlocks and bring them back to the Knights for a payment that would make up for everything he had lost. He had Scranton and Froggy with him and he was willing to trade their expertise as well, happy to deliver both of them to the Order along with the flintlocks.
Sitting alone, he sorted though the papers. There were Richard’s own notes from his conversations with Scranton, clear that he had been intent on recording as much as he could of what the powder expert had said. There were the neatly inscribed results from the tests carried out on the bombarde. Distances, powder weights, shot sizes, all written and recorded in Richard’s accurate hand. Andrew smiled. It did not make Master Scranton surplus yet, he still kept close the details of the pellet manufacture, but it seemed he had given away to Richard more of his trade secrets than he realised.
Andrew, putting the notes to one side, pulled towards him another bundle, older looking and neatly tied. A brief review showed them to all be correspondence belonging to Richard’s father. There was much, including details of land bequests made after the dissolution. Andrew studied them for a while, but the cracked sheets written in legal Latin did not want to reveal their worth that easily, so he re-tied them and set about looking for easier prey.
The papers Clement had drafted for Richard he found next, tied together with the declaration made by William Fitzwarren stating that Jack was his true son and heir. Andrew had laughed then, but not for long. The enormity of the missed opportunity soon dawned upon him. Jack had been eating out of his hand, he had ensured that the bond between the brothers had been severed. Andrew knew he should have kept Jack closer. If he had known this, he would have. Andrew scowled at the papers. Whatever these flintlocks might be worth, he recognised this could well have been worth more. Jack was malleable; Andrew could have had a Lord in his pocket, a perfect replacement for Seymour. His fist battered the table.
“Damn you to Hell, Richard!” Andrew declared to the silence in the room, before continuing his investigation of the papers.
There was only one letter that was out of kilter with all the rest. General, devoid of information and fact, just a single sheet, seemingly from a friend. Andrew had read it three times. The sentences seemed a little stilted, the letter rambled. He was sure that whatever it was that the writer, Christian Carter, was trying to tell the reader, was entirely different from what the simple words on the page seemed to say.
That a man like Richard Fitzwarren would have kept this banal piece of correspondence seemed wrong, that it had been carefully parcelled along with those damning documents relating to Jack’s birth pointed the finger at a connection. The name Christian Carter had also headed the inventory that had set Andrew on the course of action he had taken when he had first discovered it in Richard’s room. The letter was just further confirmation that he had the
right name. When he’d tried to press the air from Richard’s lungs, his reaction to that name had been enough for Andrew to know that Carter was the key. He just needed to find him and he doubted that would be very hard.
†
They were about to arrive in Venice, the trading gateway to the East. The weather was unpleasantly warm, even late into the evening. The men had made a rapid camp centred around the cart containing Fitzwarren’s cargo. They were now sat arrayed on the ground, enjoying ale Andrew had supplied from the local tavern. The journey had been a harsh one, travelling even in the heat of the day to cover as much ground as they could.
Andrew strolled among them, coming to stop stand behind Marc where he was sat next to Thomas Gent. “I think that’s a drink well earned. It has been quite a task to get here so quickly.”
Marc looked up and raised his cup. “It’s going down very well, I can tell you.”
“Another couple and I might have the dust from the road finally out of my throat,” Thomas said, grinning.
“We made it, lads,” Andrew said, smiling and looking around the assembled group in the dim evening light. “The Master will be proud of you. He’ll be here in a day or so I have no doubt.”
Dan’s eyes narrowed. “They don’t have the cart we have to slow them down. They should have caught us up by now.”
“I know, I thought they would have. When I saw the Master, he said he had some quick business to attend to and he would catch us up. He ordered me to bring the men here, and I have, but without the Master I’m not sure what the next step will be.” Andrew sounded concerned.
“Something could have happened to them,” Thomas Gent said. “You’re right, without the cart they should have caught us up easily.”