Rebellion's Message. Michael Jecks

the cathedral.

      There are never good moments to intervene between a husband and wife, but this seemed like a heaven-sent opportunity for me. The man might not have been a newcomer as I had first thought, but he was clearly in need of companionship.

      ‘Master, you should have a leather worker look at your purse,’ I said. ‘There are so many men about here who would steal the teeth from your jaw; if one were to see your money falling so easily, they would cut the strings in a trice and be off to the stews to spend it.’

      ‘But there is no hole,’ the man said. His tone was that of a boy told that his favourite toy had been eaten by the dog, fretful and sullen now his woman had gone.

      ‘Mayhap the coin was ejected by the others for being less than sociable,’ I smiled, desperately trying to avoid gazing longingly at the purse. ‘Are you new to the city?’

      ‘No! I live here.’

      ‘Really?’ I had guessed that, of course. Why else would his woman have been here, too? Still, his accent was so slow and dull, it was as bovine as the cattle I guessed he tended. I thought he sounded as though he came from Suffolk. Only later did I learn he came from the other direction, from far-off Devon. But he was speaking the truth: he had been living in London long enough. He had been going to say something else: where he was to, or where he was from, I guessed. It mattered little to me. ‘If you don’t recall this penny, why do we not go in and have a pot or two of ale as good companions should? Someone else lost it and we can make good use of it.’

      ‘No, I have an urgent duty. I must go and fulfil my task.’

      ‘Perhaps you should visit the cathedral? St Paul’s is only just here, my friend. Come, you are cold, and it is warmer inside. Besides, it is always a sound scheme to offer thanks to Him for safe delivery after a long journey.’

      ‘No. I must complete my mission before I rest. I have a message. A most important message,’ he said.

      ‘For whom?’

      But that was as much as he was prepared to divulge. I smiled and teased and cajoled, but I wasn’t truly interested in some message. All I wanted was the opportunity to take hold of that purse. I needed something that day. So far, all I had was a set of bone counters.

      I’d even given him my last blasted penny.

      THREE

      Bone counters? Yes. And one clipped penny.

      I was not having a good day. Earlier, I had seen a fellow who looked ideal. He was a youth of some eighteen or nineteen years, clad in a jacket that had plainly been made for him two summers earlier, a cloak that had seen the underside of more than one hedge, and the gaping, mazed stare of the newly arrived. However, for all that he was young and new to the city, he had a purse that looked most interestingly full, and I was determined to become better acquainted with it.

      It would be tedious to explain my approach to him – the slow, blinking confusion on his ale-bloated features, the slight stumble that allowed me to trip him over my leg, the swift nip of his laces with my concealed knife, and then the profuse apologies and quick assistance to help him to his feet, dusting him with one hand while the other slipped his pleasantly weighty purse under my shirt. I left him to go on his way with a cheery wave and smile, and walked increasingly swiftly in the opposite direction.

      There are some gulls who are a problem, and who require hard effort just to be able to speak a few words to them. Others are so suspicious that even a man as apparently honest as me cannot approach within a few feet. This fellow was as easy as a child. Most men who carry large purses can be relied upon to be cautious. They don’t get to acquire large purses by giving away all their wealth like this lummox.

      I soon discovered why. His purse was full, but not in a way that would enrich me. Inside there was one clipped penny and many bone counters, the sort that a gambling club might use. They were useless to me, and I almost cast the purse, bone coins and all, into the gutter. But then I thought the better of it. Someone might value those counters. I shoved it back into my shirt and continued on my way.

      So, now I had this new gull.

      I could see only one way to get near to him, and that involved investing more than my solitary penny. I persuaded the fellow, at length, to join me in a sup or two, and he finally agreed, walking with me back into the tavern from which I had been ejected so recently. I pushed my way inside with the youth trailing behind me. Willing or no, he had little choice: I had the hem of his cloak in my hand.

      Inside, I caught the eye of the barman and soon had a jug of ale and two cups. Pushing my guest towards a bench and table in a corner, I began to think that the day was going to go well. I was looking forward to a drink, but I was looking forward with still more enthusiasm to the first opportunity of looking into that purse.

      ‘You again!’

      It was the man into whom I had almost run earlier. He and Ann Derby were there, staring at me disapprovingly. As my companion and I stood at the bench, his woman rested her buttocks on the smooth wood with barely a hint of reluctance. It was only natural. The boards were as filthy as the rest of the tavern. I bowed and looked about me for an alternative rest for my weary legs, but only succeeded in catching the eye of the dice-player with the hat. He appeared to be studying me with some interest, and I quickly looked away again. There was something about his gaze that was deeply unsettling.

      Since the woman and her gallant had taken our bench, all I could do was stand nearby with my gull. I was happy to be barged into and pushed ever nearer the fellow, and at last I was close enough to filch his finances, but even as I moved my hand, the man on the bench asked my companion to sit beside him. I was to be cheated again! And then I saw that the youth’s purse was gone. Fleetingly, with the eyes of a professional, I saw his purse move swiftly in the hands of the man on the bench. He had not only stolen my blasted bench, but he’d taken my bird’s money, too. That was pushing arrogance to the limits! But what should I do?

      There was only one thing I could do. I sat quickly, forcing the man and woman apart. The alternative would have been for me to take residence on the woman’s lap, and Ann clearly had no desire for my closer proximity. Instead, she gave me a fierce glare and reluctantly shuffled along slightly. The man, of course, had no desire to cause a fuss while he had my man’s purse in his hand. He gave me a sour gaze, which I returned with a wide smile. And then, as I was considering how to acquire what he had taken, I felt a tug on my cloak, and a moment later something was thrust into my hand.

      You must understand that we three were sitting so tightly packed that it was an easy mistake to make. He had thought to pass the purse to his accomplice, you see, and had no idea that my hand was resting there.

      I saw all this in a flash and acted accordingly. I grasped the purse of bone counters I had taken that morning, and tugged the lady’s skirt. A hand came forward, I thrust the purse into it, took up my gull’s purse, concealing it beneath my cloak, and then stood and made my way to the door.

      As I did so, the men playing dice looked up. The fellow in the hat stepped forward, blocking my path, and I was struck with a sudden conviction that he knew more about me than I would like. So, with an airy nonchalance, I tacked and went to the back of the tavern. A door there, I knew, gave out into the alley behind, where men made use of the walls for their privy. Once there, I searched quickly for an escape, but there was nothing to be found. I was trapped! In the absence of another idea, I hurried to conceal myself behind a stack of long planks of wood that were set like a pavilion against the wall, with a pile of trash to one side waiting to be taken to the midden. There was little enough space to hide there, but when I reached it, I discovered that, set into the wall behind the planks, there was a doorway. I hoped that it might be persuaded to open. I tried the latch cautiously.

      I was not a moment too soon. Almost immediately, I heard the tavern’s door shoved wide, and, peering between two long planks, I saw my young victim. He stood with an expression of baffled consternation as he stared about him, and I hastily drew my eye back in case I might be seen. My hand on the latch