Rebellion's Message. Michael Jecks

      Moll stretched like a cat as the three shuffled their way to the door. Bill peered out, and then they were gone.

      ‘Well?’ Moll said.

      ‘Eh?’ I shot her a look, and I must have reddened like a fresh beetroot from the thoughts that flashed through my head.

      ‘Are you going to do as he said?’ she asked, and then caught sight of my expression, I suppose, because she lifted the blanket up over her breast and gave me a disapproving look.

      ‘I … er … yes, I suppose so,’ I said. But at that moment the only thing I was certain of was that I had to get out before my attraction to her became any more obvious. ‘Um,’ I said. ‘I’ll be back later.’

      ‘Why are you going? And where?’

      At that moment I wasn’t sure I could respond without embarrassment. I stood at the doorway and stared out. From here, the hill rose before me: Ludgate. It was a rising mass of shingled roofs, and in the early morning sun the smoke rose from a thousand hearths, mingling with the steam as the sun warmed the hoar frost.

      I couldn’t stay there alone with Moll. She was a temptation too far. I would inevitably have to say something that would make life impossible for both of us. No, I would have to go and cool down somewhere. It was impossible to go into the city after Bill’s warning, so I chose the other path and wandered down to the river. I sat, dangling my legs over the wharf, chilling my buttocks on the freezing boards, watching the ships passing by. Every now and again a wherry would float past, and a stream of rich curses would be hurled in my direction; one bit his thumb at me; other sailors on their ships would wave or make obscene gestures, depending on their mood. The attitude of sailors to landsmen never ceased to amaze me. They all seemed to think that the fact of their living or working on water gave them some kind of advantage over ordinary men, that they could take the piss on a whim.

      It left me feeling distinctly bitter. The whole world seemed to be taking the piss out of me, as far as I was concerned. I just hoped that the news of the murder would soon die down, so that I could go about my business same as usual. After all, it was all so unreasonable! No one who knew me would think I would risk the rope. Not for a purse.

      Who was the dead man? He was just a scruffy-looking fellow, when all was said and done. He was a pain, too – that was sure. I wished I’d never caught sight of him. I wanted only to get back to my work. I’d need new clothes first, though. Looking down at my comfortable jack and britches, it was clear that, while I continued to wear them, any description passed around by Ann’s ‘Henry’ would be bound to come back to me. London was a vast city, but not so vast that a man like me would go unnoticed around Ludgate. I was plainly not a rich man, and my height and appearance would be broadcast by now. What was I to do?

      By the time I returned to the house, it was gone noon, and Moll had left. I sullenly stared inside, feeling very hard done by. It seemed that even she had deserted me. I was all alone in the world. Perhaps they were all gone, never to return. That would be typical.

      Hearing steps, I turned to see Gil swaggering down the lane. Behind him, I saw three men. One wore a broad-brimmed hat.

      TEN

      In the time it took me to recognize the man from the tavern, I realized that Gil had betrayed me. Quick as a kingfisher, I sprang down the stairs before either man could see me, and was out on the wharf, hiding behind a stack of barrels, hoping to attract the attention of a wherryman so I could cross the river, but there were only three I could see: two with passengers, and the one who had bitten his thumb at me earlier. I tried waving surreptitiously, but there was no response. I waved again, and this time I was sure that he had seen me, but he chose to pretend he hadn’t. He was moored alongside a great anchored barge and was eating a pie or something. Clearly, the man had such a small brain that he could not concentrate on his meal and a desperate passenger at the same time.

      Glancing around towards the house, I could hear Gil arguing with his friend, but the words were lost in the swirl and slap of the water beneath me. A dead hound floated past, and I stared at it, wondering how long it would be before I was thrown into the water and floating away alongside him. He rolled over as he was caught by a current, and his paws waved at me as though in welcome.

      At last the wherryman seemed to finish his meal and began to row towards me. I waited with bated breath, hoping that the fellow was coming to me at last, but before he reached the shore, I heard the voices grow louder. The waterman had his back to me now, pulling strongly for the shore, and although I waved and hissed frantically like an enraged swan, the black-hearted bastard didn’t once turn around.

      Steps were coming closer. In desperation I fled, hurrying along the wharf to the farther side of the house. From there I ran back to Trig Lane itself and stood for a moment, wondering what to do. There was the sound of shouting, and when I bent my attention back towards the river, I was sure that it was the wherryman bellowing insults at me for disappearing. No doubt by suppertime the fool would have persuaded himself that I was a ghost, and he would sink into his cups with the conviction that he had narrowly escaped the devil’s wiles. These sailormen are notoriously superstitious.

      There was no place of concealment here. I crossed over Trig Lane and into the yard of the house opposite. There I heard the mewling of a child and realized it was the very house where the incontinent maid had produced a bastard for her master of the house. She was there, in the yard, and I quickly darted inside. The child was in a small cot near the door. I hurried to it and was almost there before I realized the mother was only yards away.

      She gave a start, plainly thinking me a thief, but I tried to convince her, by smiling and bobbing my head, that I knew how to soothe her babe. I took it up, holding it at arm’s length, and studied it. It studied me. I essayed a small smile. It still studied me with intense seriousness. I smiled more broadly, and the child opened its mouth to its fullest extent and then let blast such a clarion call of horror that I all but dropped the brute. A hound began to bay, and the maid began to wail, and I hurriedly placed it back in its mother’s arms and ran back the way I had come before the hound could find me.

      I was in Trig Lane once more, and as I glanced back at the house, I saw the man with the broad-brimmed hat talking to Gil. But then I saw them turn, and all at once they saw me.

      Gil shouted, and the man stared at me as Gil began to run after me. I waited no longer, but took to my heels.

      I ran for a huge distance. At least six paces. Then I stopped.

      In front of me was the Bear, the man I had seen in the tavern, and whose boot I could still feel on my arse. He smiled at me in the lazy way a snake would smile at its prey. There was no kindness or sympathy in that reptile’s grin. He slowly pulled his cloak aside to display a long ballock knife, setting his hand to it and pulling it free.

      Turning behind, I saw Gil laughing and the man with the black hat approaching. ‘Don’t do anything foolish,’ he called.

      I could understand that. With that man the size of a bear, doing something foolish was likely to be suicidal. So instead I did something remarkably stupid.

      The Bear was only three paces from me, and I had a sudden, clear memory of watching the bear pits in Southwark. So often you would see a huge bear with paws that could crush a cannonball, holding back in the face of mastiffs that sprang and leaped before it. Speed and aggression, when all was said and done, were the way to beat such brutes. Such was the idea in my head as I decided to force the issue. Without giving myself time to reconsider, I picked up some sand and rubbish from the road and sprang forward, flinging it as I went.

      Now, I am not large; I am a man of average build, no more. But the sight of me jumping towards him must have made the Bear fear that I had lost my mind and was about to attack. He retreated half a pace, and that left me space to dart about him. He may have been bigger, but that meant I was faster, and I made full use of my skill in the poltroon’s department of fleeing danger.

      I took the narrower, winding alleys that ran parallel to the river, rather than the roads further