Burnham-on-Crouch might not be the most miserable town in England but, on a wet afternoon, it made a rather good approximation. The town was perched on what was almost an island in a sea of mud. It boasted a single jetty that ran down far enough across the mudflats to allow loading at all but the lowest spring tides. But Burnham's location on the north bank of the mouth of the Crouch Estuary suited William's current needs.
The Swallow's pinnace staggered onto a buoy off Burnham. Its foremast waved crazily in the swell. A party left the ship and rowed for the shore.
"My God, what a dump," said William. "Essex is just one big mudflat. Are the locals born with webbed feet?"
"There are pleasant enough lands around the old Roman city at Colchester," said Simon. He put his cloak around Lucy. "Are you warm enough, my lady?"
"Your cloak is welcome, sir," she said. "There is a cool wind over the marshes."
They landed on the jetty and walked up into the town, which boasted one tavern. William led the way in. "I need a table and four mugs of your best beer, landlord."
A man wearing an apron came out to seat them. "Sit here, lady, gentlemen. Can I get you some food?"
"A hot meal would be good. What do you have in the kitchen?"
"My wife has made a coney and turnip pie this very day. It is stuffed with pepper and currants and pricked between the legs so as not to break its body." The landlord waited expectantly.
"Excellent," said William. "We will have four servings."
The landlord bowed and went back to the kitchens.
"That sounds good," Simon said.
"Aye, well. I would not expect too much from such an out-of-the way place," said William.
The potboy arrived with their beer. Simon turned to Lucy. "Are you warmed now, my dear?"
Lucy returned his cloak. "Thank you, husband." She kissed him on the cheek as the potboy put down the mugs. Lucy was doing her best to adopt the accent of the minor rural gentry. The crystal-clear accents of the London aristocracy were a little too distinctive.
They chatted inconsequently. The potboy returned with radishes and salt as a taster to clear their palette and tempt their appetite. William was astonished. This country tavern served food more like a fashionable Chelsea house than a place on the Essex marshes.
The landlord placed a whole pie in the centre of the table and wiped four plates, which he laid out for the diners. William indicated to Lucy that she should break the crust first. Lucy helped herself to a man's share. William wondered where she stored so much in such a slight figure. Somehow, he had expected that a titled lady would pick delicately at her food but she attacked her meals like a sailor on a blowout. When all had helped themselves, they tasted the food. The pie was baked to perfection.
"I wonder what the goodwife has used to glaze the pastry," said Simon, who considered himself something of a gourmet. "I suspect she has used an egg mix. The pastry is crisp and firm but just dissolves in the mouth."
"Mmmmm," said Lucy, and helped herself to another portion having wolfed down the first. She became aware that the men all looked at her. "What? The sea air has given me an appetite."
"I must ask for the recipe so you can make this pie for me, beloved," said Simon, playing to the gallery.
Lucy finished a mouthful before replying. "Of course, I will slave in a kitchen to make it for you, dearh eart. Especially as you are so poor that we cannot afford a cook." She gazed at him adoringly. William choked back a laugh.
Lucy and Simon held hands a lot during the meal and often gazed into each other's eyes. William knew that they were only obeying his instructions but he felt more than a twinge of jealousy. Lucy treated him politely but with a coolness that wrenched at him. The tavern filled with locals mostly eating simpler fare such as a vegetable pottage, although the more prosperous yeoman farmers also ordered the pie.
The landlord reappeared to clear their plates. "Can I tempt you with something sweet to finish, lady, gentlemen?"
William was set to refuse when Lucy piped up, "What fare do you have, landlord?"
"Seasonal fruit, lady, or cheese, or my wife's special," he said.
Lucy clapped her hands, "What is the special? Is it as good as the coney pie?"
"I will leave you to judge its quality, madam. The special is cherry shortbread seasoned with mustard, cinnamon, and ginger."
"How splendid. I shall definitely try a piece. With your permission, husband." She said, remembering late that she was supposed to be a dutiful wife.
"Of course you shall have a taste of the shortbread, dear heart," Simon said. "I can refuse you nothing."
The landlord grinned. He had clearly worked out where the power lay in this marriage. William felt there was enough cloying sweetness at the table without adding cherry shortbread but he also ordered a slice for politeness's sake.
Lucy bit into her sweet. Simon waxed lyrical about the balance of the spices but Lucy seemed distant.
"Are you all right, Lady Dennys?" William asked, softly so that only those around the table heard.
Lucy replied as quietly. For a moment, she reverted to her earlier ease with him. "Ah, yes, Captain, thank you. Lilith, the glutton demon, gets terribly excited about sweet foods. Of all the sensations in our world, it is sweet foods that tempt her most. She keeps going on about it in my head, distracting me. Normally, Lilith is more polite and keeps quite when I am talking to people."
William thought that the last sentence was probably not aimed at him. "Lilith tastes what you eat, milady?"
"Lilith absorbs every sensation that my body or my mind experiences," Lucy replied coldly and would not look at him. He lacked the courage to keep the conversation going.
They sat around the table eating until they were replete. The landlord returned while the boy cleared the plates. "How was the meal, gentlemen?"
"Superb," said Simon. "I mean no offence, landlord, but your wife's cooking seems far in excess of what is needed for such a modest place."
"Indeed, sir. My wife learnt her art in London Town. We get little trade from the sea but gentlemen out hunting stop here for dinner."
"Gentlemen?" asked William.
"Yes, sir. The Earl of Oxford has a country house nearby. What brings you gentlefolk to Burnham?"
"Mischance," said William. "I am taking a cargo from Gravesend to Kings Lyn. The mast broke but a few miles out of Gravesend so we came in here to make repairs. Master Johnston here is supercargo. He is taking his new wife back to Cambridgeshire with him."
"We could see that they were newlyweds," said the landlord, winking.
Lucy blushed prettily and clutched at Simon's hand.
"She will indeed make a fine wife with the, ah, proper instruction," said Simon, blandly.
A steely look from Lucy warned him not to push his luck.
"Mayhap, another jug of beer, landlord," said William.
The landlord left to arrange fresh drinks.
"So the Earl of Oxford keeps a house near the Crouch," said Simon. "How interesting."
"Do you think Walsingham knows?" asked William.
"Do you think Philip of Spain is a papist?" asked Simon.
They drank their beer and settled the account. It was expensive but worth every penny. It was going to be a long night. They took a turn around Burnham to walk off the meal. There was little to see except for a small Norman church. They lit candles and said prayers for the success of their enterprise. William watched Lucy kneel at the screen. If anyone had suggested to him that a girl possessed by a demon would sit quietly in church to pray then he would have thought them mad. He was changing many of his preconceptions. A pity he had not changed some of them sooner, he thought sourly.
They returned to the jetty and summoned the rowboat. The tide was on the flood so the oarsmen had to work hard to reach the pinnace. Most of the crew were resting. The boatswain kept a few fiddling with the mast to add verisimilitude to their cover story.
Lucy stood at the bow looking over the Essex marshes. A bird called mournfully with a deep booming sound. Gwilym joined her. "'Ow about a little exercise, 'ighness?"
"With knives, I have to practise with my blade," she said.
"We don't 'ave no wooden practice daggers, 'ighness."
"So? I promise not to hurt you," said Lucy.
"Ha!" Gwilym replied.
They walked to the centre of the deck where the pinnace was widest and drew their daggers. The crew clustered around eagerly. Some had seen Lucy fight and the others had heard all about it. No one was going to miss this. Simon and William watched from the aft deck.
"With your weight, Gwilym, you have all the advantages on this enclosed space. I don't have room to use my speed."
"You think life should be fair, 'ighness? What a peculiar notion."
Gwilym limbered up as he spoke. Then, without warning, he stabbed at her face.
"Christ's blood." William was horrified. Simon was relaxed; he had seen them spar before.
Lucy's blade flashed as she parried Gwilym's dagger. She slashed at him on the backswing but he had already swung away. He crowded her, making a series of feints. She checked each one. When he had manoeuvred her into the rail, he launched a midline thrust. She intercepted and their knives locked. Gwilym stepped inside her and blocked his forearm against her throat. Had Gwilym carried through he would have crushed her windpipe. She winked at him and he looked down to see her knee in his groin. Had she followed through she would have unmanned him.
"You are becoming quite a dirty little fighter, 'ighness."
"I have a good teacher," Lucy said.
Gwilym heaved and spun her round. He was not stronger than her but he had considerably more body mass so it was she who moved. She continued the spin, finishing her turn in time to parry his attack. She struck at him with her dagger in a series of low blows. He was forced to stoop to block them. When she had him down low enough, she jumped over his blade and lightly kicked him in the head.
"Cozened you, Gwilym," Lucy said, delightedly. "That rarely happens."
The crew clapped and whistled. Lucy gave a little curtsey in their direction. She appeared not to hear a loud aside from a seaman.
"And you fancied her in your bed, Billie. She'd eat you alive."
She also appeared not to hear the boatswain's piercing whisper in reply. "Reynolds, if I hear you insult the captain's guest again, I will tie your balls to my cutlass as good-luck tokens."
"Sorry, boatswain."
Gwilym and Lucy walked back to the centre and restarted. Thrust, parry, and counterattack followed at bewildering speed. A quick sideways kick knocked Lucy's feet out from under her but she rolled away and flipped back upright before Gwilym could exploit his advantage. Lucy raced back in at him and Gwilym gave ground step by step as she wove a spider's web of shining steel around his defence. She backed him up against the rail and thrust hard. He dropped his knife and seized her wrist, pulling into her arm so that her blade sank deep in the wood. Then he shoulder-charged her, knocking her backwards away from her knife.
Lucy scrabbled to keep her feet. He followed up like a bear. She turned into her fall and used the momentum to run away from him. Gwilym pursued her, showing surprising speed for such a big man. She dived around the left side of the mainmast. When Gwilym was committed to go after her, she grabbed at the mainmast with both hands and whipped her legs around off the ground. Gwilym tried to change direction but momentum carried him on. She swung around the mast and kicked him with both legs in the small of the back, throwing him forward into the opposite rail.
The girl dropped onto her feet like a cat and bounded after him. Gwilym dropped onto his bottom. "Peace, 'ighness. You might be able to go on all day but I'm knackered. 'Ave mercy on an old man."
William clapped his hands. "Show's over. Back to work. Let's see some action." Gwilym was the best close-combat man William had ever seen but Lucy had matched him blow for blow. How do I repair the damage, William thought? He was realistic enough to know that he would never win fair lady by his learning or smooth tongue. His skills were those of Mars. She will despise me if I crawl but how does a fighter impress a girl who can outfight him?
Lucy gave Gwilym her hand and pulled him up. "If you are such an old man you should be thinking of settling down with a good woman, like my Millie for example, who won't wait forever for a man." Lucy looked meaningfully at the boatswain.
"I think we should try and get some sleep," said Simon. "It could be a long night."
Simon stretched out beside Lucy on the deck. She dropped off immediately. She seemed to be able to go to sleep anywhere at any time. He found that sleep evaded him. It had been fun having Lucy play at wife for a short while but it had confirmed his opinion. He wanted a wife who was the way Lucy had acted, rather than the way she really was. He wanted a wife who would look to him for security and comfort, rather than to her titled family connections. Simon thought William was foolish to want to challenge the social order. It was a denial of the Chain of Being and could easily end in frustration and unhappiness for both parties.
The crew miraculously restepped the foremast as the sun set. When the last northern twilight evaporated, the pinnace dropped the buoy and sailed out into the mouth of the estuary. Lucy stood in the bow with William. He sneaked surreptitious glances at her. The wind fluttered the hair over her neck. Her eyes sparkled in diamond light. He knew that meant the power was on her.
Lucy scanned the darkness. "There are two boats entering the estuary," she said.
William stared in to the darkness. "That will be the last members of the fishing fleet returning. Yes, I can see running lights. That must be one of them."
"The second one is farther back and to the left," she said.
"You can see all that?" asked William. "What does it look like? What do you see, milady?"
"The sea is dark black and the land is a luminescent grey. Boats are light grey against the sea. I can see the crew. People glow like white beacons. Fires flash like stars. It's like looking into the Other World."
"Look down into the estuary, Lady Dennys. Look for anything making for the sea."
The pinnace ploughed up and down, just making enough way to hold station against the tide. In the wide ocean, she was a small vessel that was of little consequence. Here, in the estuary, she was a shark among herring. The night wore on. Nothing moved upon the water once the last of the fishing boats was safely home.
Something flickered on the edge of Lucy's vision. She watched it intently. Minute by minute it grew into a grey shape. The target boat could not be moving above a slow walk. Lucy tapped William on the shoulder. "There," she said, pointing.
William stared into the dark. He could see nothing but he knew better than to doubt her. He hissed an order to the boatswain and the pinnace turned onto a new bearing. Lucy was impressed by the silence with which the manoeuvre was achieved. This crew had clearly carried out night operations before.
"Is she carrying lights?" asked William.
"I can't see any," Lucy said.
"Excellent." William rubbed his hands. "A legitimate vessel would have lights. Let's hope that they are not innocent smugglers, Lucy."
The girl was too excited to chastise him for using her Christian name.
The vessels closed, Lucy conning them in.
"Captain!" The boatswain hissed.
William ran forward.
"There she is, Cap'n, right on the bow, just where the lady pointed," said the boatswain. "How did the maid know?"
"Magic, boatswain. Just be glad that she is on our side. Get us alongside, if you please."
"Aye, aye, Cap'n. Stand by to board, pass it on," said the boatswain, softly to the nearest crew. The order passed down the pinnace.
The boatswain took the helm himself and held the pinnace bow on to the target. The enemy sailed on in for some time in blissful ignorance. A yell, followed by incoherent cries, indicated that the enemy had finally spotted them. The bow of the pinnace must have loomed over them like the wrath of God. William thought the boatswain had judged it too fine but, just when a collision seemed inevitable, the veteran sea dog put the tiller over and crashed alongside. William led the boarding action.
Gwilym appeared at Lucy's elbow. "You have done your bit, 'ighness. You stay here with me."
The Swallows stormed aboard the other boat and the pinnace stood off slightly to avoid damage. The helmsman matched speeds with the enemy boat on a parallel course. The Swallows ruthlessly put down all opposition. Simon appeared on the deck of the enemy ship clutching a leather bag.
"I've got them," Simon said, excitedly. "I have the despatches."
He stood in the bow waving them at Lucy. A man rose up from the shadows behind Simon. There was a blow and Simon fell. The man grabbed the despatches. William ran Simon's attacker through with a cutlass but it was too late. The man dropped the leather bag into the water between the two ships. Weighted, it sank immediately.
Lucy dived straight over the side after it.
William saw her go. He threw his cap in to mark the spot. It slid backwards down the ships as they moved. He walked back down the boat keeping pace with the cap, stripping off his clothes and boots. When he reached the stern, he dived in onto the cap.
'I can't see the bag, Lilith. It must be the same temperature as the water.' Lucy swam down as fast as she could. The weighted bag must be sinking fast.
'I am patching in gravitonic senses to your vision, Lucy. The moving bag will create gravity distortions,' thought Lilith. She also opened a file marked "anaerobic biochemistry" from her database.
Lucy could see a glowing blob in the distance. It trailed filaments as it fell. 'There it is. I can see it,' thought Lucy.
'Wait, Lucy, you will run out of oxygen long before you can intercept the bag at a safe distance. I have run a model. You won't be able to get back.'
Lucy did not answer Lilith. She had no idea what oxygen was. She powered down after the bag. Lilith desperately shunted oxygen from Lucy's minor organs to her brain and leg muscles. She twisted the girl's biochemistry to try to set up anaerobic energy pathways. Warning subroutines that she had linked to various parameters in Lucy's body all went off together. There was only so much Lilith could do.
Lucy reached the leather bag and twisted the strap around her arm. Then she started for the surface so far above. Her body was failing fast and her speed dropped until she floated helplessly. Lucy had neutral buoyancy in the cold water with the weighted bag balancing the stale air in her lungs. Lilith stopped her breathing reflex so the girl wouldn't gulp in water and shunted all remaining biochemical energy to Lucy's brain.
'You were right, Lilith,' thought Lucy. 'It was too far for me. I forgot I am not immortal. Save yourself, Lilith, I'm dying. Use the last power in my body to make a jump. Finishing me off quickly will be a kindness.'
'Never, Lucy, never say that,' thought Lilith. 'We live or die together. I am going to shut you down now to save energy.'
'Good-bye, Lilith,' thought Lucy. 'I love you.'
Lilith took stock of their situation. It was not good. Lucy's biochemistry was wrecked but Lilith still had gravitonic energy in her batteries. She extended her senses and swept the area. Lilith spotted a gravity distortion in the water above. She kept Lucy unconscious but she used some power to fire up Lucy's biochemistry one last time. Driving Lucy like this was doing terrible damage. Lucy's body took a firm grip on her blade, pulled it from her holster, and held it over her head. Lilith bled off gravitonic energy to excite the steel molecules. The knife lit up in the visible wavelengths. Liliith had little hope of rescue but she had to try.
William was frantic; no one could go so long without a breath. He kept putting his head underwater but could see nothing in the dark. Then, below him, he saw a light. It had to be her. He took three long breaths to fill his lungs and dived. He had no way of judging distance and the dive went on and on. Then he was right on top of her. He grabbed her arm and kicked upwards. She was completely limp and he feared the worst. Please God, he prayed. Not like this. Don't take her from me now.
William's broke the surface. He pushed Lucy's head up but it lolled helplessly. She was not breathing. "Breathe, breathe, damn it, Lucy, breathe."
Eschewing propriety, he resorted to an old sea dog trick for reviving half-drowned sailors. He put his mouth over hers and blew air into her body. He could not see a reaction so he took a deep breath and tried again. This time she coughed and broke her mouth away. Lucy sucked air in great juddering gulps. Her head still lolled in his arms but she breathed.
"Thank you, Lord," William said.
He manoeuvred her around until she lay on her back on his chest, her head out of the water in the crook of his neck. William desperately searched the darkness around. He and the unconscious girl were completely alone. A wave slapped his face.
The boastswain steered the captured despatch boat into the pinnace and jumped back aboard. "Get this boat turned around, you whoresons. Everyone not on the sails, get to the sides to look for the captain and the lady. We have people in the water. I want silence. Listen for cries."
Simon grabbed his arm. "Can't we use the other boat as well? That would double our chances of catching them."
"I don't have enough crew to sail both," said the boatswain. "I have just left a few men onboard to hold the prize."
"So we need more seamen," Simon said. "Right, come with me, Gwilym."
The two men jumped into the prize and went to where the prisoners were held. "Who's in charge?" asked Simon.
No one answered but some of the prisoners looked at a blond-haired man. "We have two people in the water. I want you to get this boat turned around to search." Simon addressed Blond Hair.
"Why should I?" The man spat. "They can drown for all I care."
Simon was not in a good mood. His head hurt where he had been struck and his employer's niece was lost at sea because he had been careless and lost the despatches. "Persuade him, Gwilym," Simon said, coldly.
Blond Hair was a big man but he might have as well have been a child. Gwilym pulled the man's head back, baring his throat for a dagger. The point broke the skin and blood ran down the blade. "You'll do it or I'll kill you."
The man still looked defiant. He probably thought he was marked for execution anyway.
"No, I won't cut your throat, that's too quick," said Gwillym. "I'll hand you over to Walsingham and tell him how you laughed at the thought of his favourite niece drowning in the dark."
The man licked his lips. "Walsingham's niece? The Walsingham?"
Gwillym nodded. "It'll be red hot pincers for you, matey."
"Get her round. Jump to it," said Blond Hair to his crew.
Lucy stood in a sunlit meadow on a warm English summer afternoon. It was one of those days when time seemed to stand still. A bank of glorious wildflowers stretched out on each side filling the air with scent. A dark green forest marched across the skyline behind her and a stream burbled to itself below. Everything was still and quiet except for the buzz of insects moving from flower to flower. She walked down the hill to where Lilith sat on the grass throwing pebbles into the water.
Lucy sat down beside Lilith. For a while neither of the women spoke. Eventually, Lucy broke the silence. "Am I dead yet, Lilith?"
Lilith smiled at her. "Not at all. You are back on the surface breathing. Your body biochemistry is a train wreck. I am patching it up. It is easier if I keep you unconscious. Less chance of brain damage, you see. So I created this simulation for us to talk in." Lilith gestured at the meadow. "You remember this place fondly; I took it from your oldest memories."
Lucy threw a pebble in the stream, watching the ripples spread out. She did not understand what Lilith was doing to her body; she never did when Lilith went into details about magic, but she was aware that Lilith could carry out many functions at the same time. "Are we safe?" Lucy said.
"I am afraid not. Your sea captain is holding you up but he must be struggling. Unless someone finds us soon, I suspect we will all three drown."
"He is not my sea captain," Lucy said, automatically.
"Really?" Lilith said. "He jumped in after you. I suppose he would do that for anyone?"
"Probably," said Lucy, without much conviction. "He is rather brave and not very bright."
"Sounds like an ideal man to me," snorted Lilith.
"I can't leave him out there in the cold on his own. I owe him some company while he dies. Wake me up, Lilith."
"It will only be partial, Lucy. You won't be able to move all that much. In fact, lie as still as possible. I will have to put you back to sleep after a few moments to protect your brain."
Lucy nodded at her and threw another pebble in the stream. "I understand but wake me up anyway."
William forced himself to think clearly. The trick was to stay alive. Just keep them both afloat and try not to let the cold kill. He held Lucy tight to him to minimise heat loss. Her breathing was controlled and regular.
"Mmm, William?"
"Lucy. You're awake. Don't give up; we are going to get out of this. My men will find us."
"Liar," she said, with affection. "Thank you for coming for me, William." She drifted away for a minute then spoke again. "Catch me when I fall."
"That's right, Lucy. I promised to catch you when you fall. I always will. Don't give up."
"Like poor Anne Hewet who fell off London Bridge. Master Osborne caught her when she fell. Caught her and never let her go."
"What mean you, Lucy? Who is Anne Hewet?"
"Nobody important, just a prize. But mayhap they loved each other. I wonder?" She stroked his face. "William?"
"Yes, Lucy."
"Your beard tickles."
"If we were together, Lucy, I would have my barber shave me every week, every day even, if it pleased you. Whatever pleased you."
"You have my permission to hold me as tight as you want," she said.
"I know, as long as you can still breathe," William said.
"I have never been held like this before, in a man's arms," she said, sleepily.
"You fit there rather well, methinks," he said.
"Lilith can't keep me awake any longer, William. I have to go to sleep for a while. I will be back as soon as I can."
"Hush, sleep now. I will look after you."
William looked round in desperation. All he could see was darkness and water. He was tired and cold. Had he been alone, he would probably have given up and finished it, gone below and breathed in.
Lucy sat back in the meadow. "I feel guilty about reclining here in comfort while William fights for our lives. He really is rather sweet, isn't he?"
"I am sure that he would be glad that you were happy. But yes, he is a sweetie," Lilith said. "Have you ever played skimming stones Lucy?"
"No, I don't think I have," Lucy said.
"Come on, then. I'll teach you." Lilith bounced to her feet and searched the bank for a suitable stone, which of course she found.
William spat out a mouthful of water. He was now very tired and he had stopped feeling cold. That was a bad sign. Then he heard a cry, but he could not see anything in the darkness. He tried to yell back but it was difficult as the spray whipped into his face. He had an idea. He raised Lucy's right arm. The blade was still gripped firmly in her hand.
William spoke into the girl's ear. "Lilith, Lilith, if you can hear me, make light, like you did before. It's now or never, Lilith."
Without warning, the dagger blazed bright blue-white light. William had never seen anything so beautiful. He heard cries in the distance. They had been spotted.
"Keep it going, as long as you can, Lilith."
Gradually the dagger dimmed and went out. But by that time a huge shadow was silhouetted against the night sky.
"There they are," said a voice. "On the port bow."
People were in the water all round him, supporting him.
"Easy, Captain. Let the maid go now and we will get her in the boat," said a swimmer.
For a moment, he failed to take it in. He still held Lucy tight, his fingers twisted in her clothes. Then thankfully, he released the burden and other people held him up.
"Gently with 'er ''igness." Gwilym's voice sounded in the dark.
Hands pulled him up. He snagged his knee as he was pulled over the side. He had never been more pleased to feel pain before. Pain was life. They had made it.
He crawled across the deck, "Lucy, how is Lucy?"
"'Er 'ighness lives, Captain. I will look after 'er."
The final release of responsibility turned off something in his head and he pitched gently down into the dark.
The boats heaved to, lashed together, until dawn. William slept most of that time. The boatswain woke him, with the present of a small beer.
"What a rat-party. I hate night operations," said William. "How bad are our losses?"
"No deaths," said the boatswain. "Reilly got a bad cut but it's clean so he will probably make it. The gentleman has a bump on the head. The lady is still sleeping. She is breathing naturally as far as I can tell. Walsingham's man is keeping an eye on her and he is right careful of who goes near."
"Good," said William.
He finished his beer in one go and went to find Lucy. She slept on the upper deck. Gwilym sat by her, whittling a piece of wood with his knife and watching. They had lain her in cloaks the night before, to keep her warm. William squatted by her. "Lady Dennys, Lucy, can you hear me?"
Her eyes snapped open and she stretched like a cat. "Indeed, Captain, thanks to you. Methinks you saved my life. I will never forget how you came for me."
So, thought William, they were back to "captain" and "lady" already. The intimacy of Lucy and William forged by the water was a fading dream but he had made progress. He was forgiven for his earlier transgression. He had found the answer to the question of how a soldier impresses a woman who can outfight him. Easy, you save her life at great risk to your own. How clever of him to arrange it, he thought ruefully.
"Your demonic friend had something to do with it as well," he said, modestly.
She smiled at him. "That's not what Lilith says. She says that you saved all of us, Captain. Truly, I can see why other men think so highly of you."
Lucy stretched out her hand and William hastened to kiss it.
The pinnace pitched in the swell as it made its way out to sea with the fishing boat in tow. There was a small canvas-covered cabin at the back where the captain could enjoy some privacy and protection from the elements. William held court there with Simon and Lucy. Gwilym was positioned three feet behind her. After her swimming scare, he refused to let her out of grabbing distance.
"Well, Master Tunstall, let's see if it was worth the lady risking her life, not to mention mine," said William.
Simon opened the leather bag. Inside, was a package carefully wrapped in oiled cloth. He slit open the cloth and removed a pack of papers.
"Have any survived?" asked William.
"The papers are soggy. The outer ones are ruined as the ink has run." Simon carefully peeled the papers back to split them up and allow then to dry out. "The inner ones have survived. They seem to be lists of troops."
Simon studied them. "They are an assessment of the trained bands around London and East Anglia. Troop locations, numbers, and how fast they might be deployed."
He picked up another document and handed it over to William. "What do you make of that, Captain?"
"It's a list of current ship dispositions around London and the south coast of England, with notes on how quickly they could be made ready for sea." William indicated an entry with his forefinger. "The Swallow is listed as docked in London itself. The information is right up to date."
"You are a military man, Captain," said Simon. "Why would someone want such information?"
William shrugged. "It is always useful to know the whereabouts of potential enemies, in case they are massing forces against you."
"Or in case you wish to mass forces against them?" Simon asked.
"Such information would certainly be useful to Palma if he intended to invade southern England but that is hardly a realistic possibility," said William.
"No, he would never sail enough troops past the sea dogs to defeat the militia," said Simon. "Unless, the government of England was already in disarray and fallen into factional fighting. The Duke of Palma might then land enough Spanish troops to decide the issue in King Philip's favour."
Simon continued to peel off and lay out papers to dry as they talked. One in particular caught his eye. "This is a letter to the Duke of Palma. I will read it out. 'Knowing that Elizabeth is an heretic and a bastard and hence no true prince.' "
"Her Majesty will love that," said Lucy.
" 'I am resolved to replace her by a sovereign more fitting in the eyes of God. I refer to Mary Queen of Scots who is of legitimate birth and so has the best right to the throne. I, myself, also have a legitimate claim and will marry Mary to cement it. Thus will petticoat government end and the march of this monstrous regiment of women be reversed. Then will I cleanse England of heresy and restore the true religion.' "
"And the burnings will start again, just like in Bloody Mary's reign," said William. "Just as it is described in Foxe's Book of Martyrs."
" 'I will tolerate no piracy and put down the nest of vipers in the west,' " Simon read out loud. He looked at William. "I think he means you."
"The Hawkins family is high on Spain's list of enemies," said William, not without a degree of satisfaction.
" 'Just two tercios of veteran troops should stabilise my rule until I have disposed of the last heretic leader who might impede me.' " Simon paused in his reading.
"Two tercios? Two regiments of Spanish infantry will muster at least two thousand men, more probably four thousand. What is Elizabeth supposed to be doing while all this is going on? Just sitting around moping, waiting to be deposed? She will loose the sea dogs and those tercios will be sleeping with the fishes." William said. "Rows of Spanish troops lined up in little wooden barges to cross the North Sea. Why, man, it will be like playing skittles with culverins."
"Elizabeth won't be able to loose anyone if she's dead," said Simon. "Listen to the rest of the letter. 'The first blow will be to remove the bastard Queen. Her death will paralyse all resistance as the heretics squabble amongst themselves over her replacement.' "
"Is this wicked letter signed?" asked Lucy.
Simon squinted at the signature. "The Earl of Oxford."
He got to his feet and paced up and down thinking. "We must get this to Sir Francis immediately. He will want total secrecy. If they find out we have captured the despatch boat they might strike early. No one will have seen us take it in the dark but if we sail it up the Thames in broad daylight then the secret is out. Captain, you must sink the boat here out at sea. Let Oxford think it was lost accidentally to Neptune."
"There is the matter of the prize money," said William. "I can't cozen the crew out of their share."
"The secret service will buy the boat at market rates. Now sink it," urged Simon.
"And its crew?" William asked, with an edge in his voice.
"The same. They must disappear as if they had never been," said Simon, coldly.
"You want us to slit their throats and dump them overboard?" asked William.
"Yes," said Simon.
William stood up and dragged Simon to his feet. He pulled him out onto the deck where the despatch boat crew were tied. He put a dagger in Simon's hand and pulled back the head of a sitting man to expose his throat. "You do it then, Master Tunstall. You kill the first two or three and my men will follow your example."
"They worked to save my life last night," said Lucy. "And that of Captain Hawkins."
"That we did," said the blond traitor. "Mercy lady. Show us mercy."
Simon threw down the knife. "I don't like it either but what would you have me do? Risk losing England to save the lives of a few traitors. Their mouths must be stopped."
"Mayhap there is another way," said William. "We could transfer them at night to the hold of the Swallow and keep them hidden there until the plot is foiled."
"Yes, noble lord," said the blond man. "We would be as mice in your ship's hold."
"You understand," said Simon, "if there is a single incident then my order to the captain will be enforced."
"Yes, Lord," said the man.
"Very well then," said Simon, relief evident in his voice.
William gave orders to scuttle the captured boat. Then he took Simon to one side. "Master Tunstall, last night when Lady Dennys and I were in the water, things were a little perilous and she was confused. She mentioned an Anne Hewet who fell off London Bridge. In her mind, there seemed relevance in the story for our situation. Could you explain?"
Simon's face went blank. "Maybe you should ask Lucy what the story meant to her, Captain."
"I can see that you are hiding something, Simon. Out with it."
"Anne Hewet was a girl who fell off London Bridge into the Thames. She was rescued by a Master Osborne, an apprentice to her father, who dived in after her at some risk of his own life. Her father gave Anne to Osborne with a huge dowry in recognition that he had saved her."
"So that was what she meant. She said that Osborne had caught Anne and never let her go." William's face lit up.
Simon shook his head. "I know what you are thinking, Captain. You think she might draw some parallel that would favour your suit but you could be quite wrong. Did she say anything else?"
William thought carefully. "When I asked who Anne was, she replied, nobody important, just a prize. Then she said, but mayhap they loved each other. What did she mean?"
Simon sighed. "I told Lucy that story as a light diversion. I thought it would amuse her but it seemed to heavy her mood, instead. After I had finished, she asked me whether they loved each other. I did not understand her at the time. Later, I gave her reaction some thought. As men, we see it as a charmingly romantic tale of a brave man who wins a bride and a fortune. But look at it from her viewpoint. Anne was given away as a reward, apparently no different from the bag of gold that accompanied her. Ask yourself if Anne favoured this Master Osborne. Was he pleasing to her eye? Did his wit amuse her? Maybe Lady Dennys would like to be wooed by a man more interested in herself, than in her name and fortune. Just a thought."
"What are you two talking about?" asked Lucy, suspiciously.
"Master Tunstall was telling me the story of Anne Hewet and London Bridge," said William.
"What made you bring that up?" asked Lucy, in surprise.
"You mentioned it last night," said William. "I wanted to hear the full tale before I answered your question."
Lucy's hand went to her mouth. William recognised that as a sure sign that she was uncertain. "What question?"
"As to whether they loved each other. Osborne was her father's apprentice so he must have known her well. No man jumps into the water in the vague hope of a reward, Lady Dennys. He throws himself in to save something too dear to lose. So he certainly loved her. I think she may also have loved him; had he not saved her? So, to answer your question, milady—yes! I think they loved each other." William walked off whistling, stopping only to berate some poor seamen for slackness.