Deception (13 page)

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Authors: Lady Grace Cavendish

Tags: #Coins, #Kings; queens; rulers; etc., #Fiction, #Great Britain, #Counterfeits and counterfeiting, #Mystery and detective stories, #Europe, #Kings and rulers, #Law & Crime, #Diaries, #Antiques & Collectibles, #Renaissance, #Royalty, #Detective and Mystery Stories, #Kings; queens; rulers; etc, #Juvenile Fiction, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Coins; Currency & Medals, #Historical, #Great Britain - History - Elizabeth; 1558-1603, #money, #Concepts

BOOK: Deception
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It was difficult to see, until the moon came out from behind a cloud and lit the Thames. In the silence of the night, we could hear the ice creak eerily as the river flowed beneath it.

We stopped a little way from the Stubbses' cottage and climbed up onto the bank, where we hid behind the low wall of the pigsty. It was bitterly cold and we huddled together for what seemed like ages.

“Can't we go in with the pig?” Ellie asked, her teeth chattering.

“What about the smell?” I said.

“The pig will just have to get used to it!” Masou whispered.

I was about to pinch him when, at last, we heard a latch creak and the door of the cottage open. The light of a lantern spilled out onto the frosty ground and we could see the silhouette of a heavy-set man.

“Where you going?” came a woman's voice. “You're never home. It's the same every night.”

“None of your business, wife!” snarled the man. I
recognized that voice. It was Harry the waterman. “Now shut the door and think no more on it.” And with that he strode straight towards us!

We ducked our heads down and lay there, not daring to move a muscle. If Harry came round the pigsty he would see us. The footsteps were getting nearer and it was too late to take to our heels. Then we heard him fling the sty gate open and go inside. He came out again, dragging something behind him.

I dared to peek round the wall of the sty. Harry was making his way towards the bank, towing a sled behind him.

“Quick,” I whispered. “We must follow him.”

“Not too close, Grace,” Masou hissed, “or he will hear us.”

Harry's lantern cast a glow over the ice around him as he marched along, pulling his sled. We followed, keeping close to the mounds of ice by the bank.

“We must stay well back,” Masou cautioned, pulling us to hide behind a boat stuck in the ice, “else if Harry Stubbs turns to look, we shall be as visible as a camel at a banquet!”

“Suppose he hears our skates?” Ellie asked in a worried whisper.

“No fear of that,” Masou said. “Allah himself would not hear us over the noise of that sled.”

We waited until Harry Stubbs was well ahead, and then made a quick dash to hide under the landing stage at Star Chamber. Then we followed again.

When we reached Temple Steps, the waterman was already disappearing amongst the empty booths of the Frost Fair.

“Faster!” I urged my friends. “We mustn't lose him.”

We darted between the dark, shadowy stalls, stopping now and again to listen for sounds of the sled. It was very strange to see the fair so eerie and silent when it had been so bustling during the day. Then, suddenly, we came out onto clear ice again and there he was, not twenty paces ahead. All he had to do was turn and he would discover us!

I stopped so suddenly that Ellie cannoned into me and I fell forwards onto my hands and knees. Masou and Ellie flattened themselves on the ice next to me as Harry Stubbs stopped, raised his lantern, and looked around suspiciously. Luckily for us, a cloud had covered the moon and we must have been invisible to him, for after a while he turned and walked on.

“That was close,” I breathed.

“And cold!” moaned Masou as we lay there, not daring to get up. “If you persist in being the Queen's Lady Pursuivant, prithee do it in a warmer season.”

“I shall tell all miscreants that only summer crimes
will be permitted in future!” I retorted. “Now, let him go a little further; then we'll follow.”

“He seems to be heading for the bank,” Ellie said, pointing, “right by London Bridge.”

Harry took his sled as near to the bridge as he could. We watched as he hid it amongst some frozen driftwood. Then he pulled himself up onto a landing stage close to the bridge and set off into the darkness.

We scrambled to our feet and skated as fast as we could to the bank.

“Is he making for the heart of the City?” asked Ellie excitedly, as we clambered onto the landing stage and pulled off our skates.

Masou stowed our skates in a leather bag that was tied to his back with a long leather strap, and we followed the light of the lantern down a dark alley.

“Oh, Grace, do you think we're near where they've been making the counterfeit coins?” Ellie wondered.

“I hope so, Ellie,” I said. “I pray we're not following another false lead.”

“Indeed,” Masou said in a grave and mysterious voice. “Harry Stubbs could be murderer of his own kin! In which case, what would he do to three strangers like ourselves?”

“I wish you hadn't said that,” Ellie whimpered, looking round fearfully.

We followed Harry Stubbs as he wove his way through the shadowy streets. These were routes I had never followed on horseback or by litter, and Ellie and Masou seemed to have no more inkling of where we were than I did. Masou took hold of our sleeves to keep us together and I was glad of it.

It seemed darker than ever now, for the ram-shackle dwellings were very close together and seemed to be toppling forwards until they almost touched over our heads. It did not look like a friendly neighbourhood.

Ellie must have been thinking the same. She shuddered as she looked up. “I reckon the sun never makes its way down here,” she whispered.

The houses were dark and shuttered. Only now and then did we glimpse the brief light of a candle. It was by Harry's flickering lantern ahead of us that we kept him in sight.

“It is so quiet,” Masou murmured, pulling even more tightly on my sleeve. “It could be the city of the dead!”

“Don't say things like that!” I hissed, giving him a pinch. And then I heard a strange scrabbling noise. I
froze and pulled at Masou's sleeve. “Did you hear that?” I muttered out of the corner of my mouth.

We all stood as still as statues.

Suddenly, there was the most awful wailing and a black creature landed on Masou's shoulders!

“Allah save me!” Masou gasped, flailing at it with both hands.

With another unearthly cry, the shadowy creature jumped to the ground and sped off into the darkness.

Ellie stifled a nervous giggle. “It was only a cat,” she said. “It slipped off that roof!”

We clutched each other's sleeves, weak in our relief. But when we looked around for Harry's light, it had gone.

“He must have turned a corner,” I said.

We scampered and skidded along the icy cobbles. The path—it was now too narrow to be called a street—bent round a decaying old warehouse and turned into a dank, dismal alley. There was no sign of the waterman.

“I think we've lost him,” Ellie panted.

“No,” I gasped, pointing into the distance.

“Look!”

At the far end of the alley we could just make out a tiny bobbing light.

We ran as silently as we could towards it. As we got closer we could see the heavy figure of Harry Stubbs and the glint of the river Thames beyond him.

Ellie let out a whoosh of air. “Heaven be praised!”

“Has he led us around in a circle?” Masou asked.

“No, we must be east of London Bridge,” I whispered as we stopped in the shelter of the last tumble-down house before the riverbank. “See, the water isn't frozen this side of its arches.”

We crept nearer. Indeed, the river was flowing and taking great slabs of ice downstream.

Harry was clambering into a small rowing boat.

He pushed off downriver with the oars.

“What are we going to do now?” I said anxiously.

“We cannot follow him without a boat.”

“There may be one down by the water's edge,” said Masou.

We ran to the bank. Masou was right: there were several small boats tied up to a jetty, bobbing in the inky black water. We were just peering into one when we heard shuffling footsteps behind us.

“'Ere!” came a shout. “You trying to steal one of my fine craft?”

I was so scared I jumped and nearly toppled into the river.

We turned to find a wizened old man, holding up a lantern that barely cast a light.

“These are my boats,” he said. “Well, in a manner of speaking. I looks after them for the owners, like.”

Masou gave him a small bow. “We would never think of such a heinous crime as theft, kind sir,” he said. “But we are desirous of venturing upon the river and are in need of a stout craft.”

The man looked him up and down. “What foreign talk is that?” he demanded.

Ellie went right up to the old man. “Listen 'ere,” she said loudly. “We want to hire a boat and we've got money!”

At the mention of money the old man's face changed as if he'd taken off a mask.

I looked at Masou in dismay. I had not thought to bring any money. But Ellie fumbled in her bodice and proudly brought out the coins Masou and I had given her.

“That all?” scoffed the old man, pocketing the coins in a hurry. “You can have the one at the end. And mind you bring it back.”

“I will replace your coins,” I promised Ellie as we raced along the jetty and scrambled into the tiny, battered old boat that was moored at the end.

Masou and Ellie took an oar each. I kneeled at the prow, for the boat was so small we only just fitted in. At least from here I could be the lookout.

As we pushed away from the bank, I peered across the murky water to see if there was any sign of Harry's light. Suddenly, I found myself facing London Bridge, and I wished I weren't, for I caught sight of the pikes on the southern edge sporting their traitors' heads. I had seen them many a time during the day, but at night their silhouettes filled me with horror.

“We're going the wrong way!” I exclaimed.

“Ellie's work in the laundry has given her a man's muscles,” Masou complained. “She's pulling too hard on her oar.”

“Then you pull harder on yourn,” Ellie told him, “before I clout you with mine.”

At last we managed to put London Bridge behind us and began to make progress across the water. I had no idea where we should be heading. We rowed on downriver, passing tall ships moored midstream. There were muffled thumps as their hulls were buffeted by blocks of ice, and we had to take pains to avoid being hit ourselves. Now and then I could see lights flickering on the northern bank, but none turned out to be Harry Stubbs with his lantern.

“We've lost him again!” I cried.

At that moment the Tower loomed up before us. It seemed an age since I'd come here with Sir Edward Latimer to see how the mint worked, yet it was only two days ago. As we rowed past I heard an eleven o'clock bell tolling. I looked desperately up and down the river, but I couldn't see much, for the moon was behind a cloud.

“If we don't find him soon we'll have to turn back,” said Ellie, laying down her oar. “We can't row all night. We'll freeze to death and they'll be laying coins on our eyes.”

“Just a few yards further,” I pleaded. “I feel in my bones that Harry must have something to do with the counterfeiting. If only we could find out where he is.”

“Quiet!” whispered Masou. “What was that?”

Across the water came the distant sound of a low whistle.

“It's coming from the Tower!” exclaimed Ellie.

She and Masou pulled gently on the oars and we made for the Water Gate.

As we neared the high wooden wharf we could see a small boat moored there. And on the bench was Harry's lantern.

“He's here somewhere,” I whispered.

We tied our boat to a little ladder. Masou held it steady as I pulled myself up the slippery rungs to the top of the ladder and peered over.

“Can you see anything?” Ellie whispered. The ladder wobbled alarmingly as she struggled up to join me.

We could just make out Harry standing by the moat in front of the Tower. He looked up at the battlements and we heard another low whistle.

“Sir Edward has lodgings in the Tower,” I whispered to Ellie. “If he were a braver sort of man we could try to get his help.”

“He's probably quivering under his bedclothes at this very minute,” Ellie said with snort. “You said he's even afeard of the bell.” Then she grabbed my arm. “There's a window opening above, Grace. And someone is there!”

I looked up at a faintly lit window in the battlements. And my heart skipped a beat, because there, at the window, was the silhouette of a man—and he was pointing a bow and arrow straight at us!

Ellie tried to pull me down, but I couldn't move a muscle—just as a mouse must feel when cornered by a cat. I watched in a trance as the man pulled back the bowstring and let the arrow fly. It sped towards
us over the moat and thudded into a bollard not three yards from our heads.

“Get down, Grace, before he tries again!” Ellie attempted to shake me out of my trance. “We've got to get away!”

“Wait,” I whispered back. I had noticed something. “He hasn't even seen us. We're well hidden here. The arrow wasn't meant for us. There's a rope attached to it.”

Harry strode over to the arrow, pulled the rope free, and tied it quickly to the bollard. He threw the arrow into the river and gave the rope a tug.

Up at the window his accomplice hung two sacks over the rope, one on either side, and let go. The sacks slid down into the waiting arms of the waterman. They must have been heavy, for he grunted as he caught them. He put them down on the wharf, and as he did so, I heard the chink of coins.

“Did you hear that?” I whispered to Ellie.

She nodded. “I think we've found our counterfeiters!”

Harry untied the rope. The figure up above swiftly pulled it back in and silently shut the window.

“Quick!” I told Ellie. “Back to our boat.”

There was a nasty moment as we both tried to
clamber back into the boat at the same time. It wob-bled on the water as if it would overturn, and it took all Masou's strength to steady it. Luckily, we were well hidden by the wharf.

We stayed close to the wooden stanchions and waited until we saw Harry rowing back in the direction of London Bridge.

As we followed, keeping a good distance behind, Ellie told Masou what we'd seen. “He must have got counterfeit coins right there in his sacks,” she said excitedly.

“So there never was another mint set up!” I put in. “Whoever is employing Harry must be using the Royal Mint to make his counterfeit coins, right under the noses of the mint workers!”

“And then the waterman comes for them at dead of night,” said Masou, pulling hard on his oar.

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