Keeper of the King's Secrets (10 page)

“A boat!” he screamed over the waterfall of sound. “This for a boat!”

One of the boats moved, the waterman letting the current
sweep him toward them. Before he was sucked into the narrow arch, he fought the water with his oars and spun the boat, so it came to rest against the pier.

Parker moved faster. Twice he missed his footing and found himself with feet dangling, his heart in his mouth.

With a cry, the merchant leaped into the boat. Parker stopped and saw the boat rock wildly under the onslaught.

The waterman held out his hand, and the merchant placed the gem in his palm.

With a flip of his oar, the waterman spun the boat back into the maelstrom, and the boat was sucked through the arch.

“To me! To me!” Parker dropped onto the pier, his throat raw as he shouted over the pounding noise. He lifted his money belt. “To me—King’s business!”

At last a boat came forward, spinning twice before it reached the pier, hitting the stone with a crack of wood.

Parker dropped into the small vessel, pushing himself back as his feet touched the bottom to make his impact less.

“You landed better than t’other one.” The waterman spat. “Money?”

“Aye.” Parker dug into his purse and produced three sovereigns. “King’s business. Follow them.”

“Always wanted to work for the King.” The waterman chuckled and pushed them away from the swells at the pillar with an oar.

For a moment they were in free spin, the water turning them as if they were in a whirlpool, and then, with a force
that threw Parker’s head back and sent his cloak streaming behind him, the current grabbed hold of them and shot them like a rock from a catapult through the arch.

Darkness and noise pressed against him from all sides, spray fell like hard rain, and then the Thames spat them out the other side.

Parker looked over the side to see they were six feet above the water, plummeting down toward it.

“Brace.” The waterman lifted his oars high but ready, and when they smacked down onto the surface he dipped them in and heaved, propelling the boat forward so the impact did not brake them too much and tip the front into the water.

The relative quiet after the assault under the span gave Parker the sense he had lost his hearing.

“Well, that was a good ’un.” The waterman laughed, the sound almost maniacal.

Parker rose a little from his place at the back of the boat, searching for the merchant.

And there he was, urging his waterman toward a small beach on the riverbank.

“There will be no trouble for you,” he called out. “I only want some answers.”

“I saw your chain of office under your cloak. What do you want? Me in the Tower?” the merchant called back from his boat.

“What have you done, that you should fear the Tower?”

“You were asking after Jens of Antwerp. Do you know what has happened to him? He is dead! And a thousand curses on
him. He has ruined me, brought the life I had here to an end.” His words bounced on the water with an echo.

“What did he want of you?” Parker silently urged his waterman to go faster. They seemed no closer than they had been, and the merchant was almost to the shore. “I swear in the King’s name, if you answer me truly, I will not stop you leaving.”

The merchant turned in his seat to face Parker. “He wanted passage on one of my ships. A way to slip out of the country. But he was not cautious enough. He was followed to my house, and I was called to answer to the Duke of Norfolk himself. I am ruined.”

“Do you know what trouble Jens was in? Why he needed to leave so suddenly?”

But the merchant had turned back and was looking at the shoreline, silent.

Parker followed his line of sight and saw a figure in brown, hat pulled low, on the high part of the bank. His stomach dipped, rock-heavy, as he caught sight of the crossbow in the man’s hand.

Someone hailed Parker from the left, and he saw Harry and Susanna running along the road toward him. Toward the assassin waiting on the bank.

“Back!” At his shout, the merchant jerked, looking at him in fear.

But Harry had seen, had grabbed Susanna and was pulling her toward St. Magnus Church, while the assassin weighed where to aim his bow. He swung toward her, but there were already
cries and shouts of alarm from the crowds above as they noticed his weapon.

With a final heave, the waterman piloting the merchant’s boat scraped the shore, with Parker’s boatman just behind them.

“Get below the bank, out of sight.” Parker leaped from the boat, diving past the merchant to take the path at a run. But by the time he’d climbed the bank, he could see the Frenchman running toward the crowds of Billingsgate Market, where it would be impossible to catch him.

Harry waved to him from the doorway of St. Magnus. They were safe.

He turned back, walking down to the boats, surprised to see the watermen struggling with the merchant.

He was tired of chasing down leads that ended in nothing, and he strode to where the three men fought and pulled out his knife.

At the sight of it, the merchant stopped his struggles.

“Held on to ’im for ya, sir.” The waterman who had piloted his boat gave him a grin, his teeth dark brown stumps in his mouth.

Parker gave a nod of thanks to the watermen and they stepped in front of the boats in case the merchant tried to escape that way.

He hefted his knife and, after a moment, slipped it back up his sleeve. “If you answer me, I will let you take your cart and leave for Dover. If you don’t, I will personally deliver you to the Tower myself.” He spoke evenly.

The merchant lifted a hand in defeat, then flicked his eyes to the watermen, but they were far enough away to give them a measure of privacy. Even so, the merchant pitched his voice very low.

“I don’t know the whole of it. I am glad that I don’t. But Jens let one thing slip, and it was then I realized how much trouble he had led me into by his contact.” The man shifted his gaze to the bank above, and then dropped his voice even further. “Jens was in London to assess a gem. The Mirror of Naples. I do not know who commissioned him to undertake the task, only that he discovered there was more to the job than merely valuing it and verifying what it was. He would not cooperate with the larger plot, and he and his employer fell out over it. He became a hunted man.”

Parker stared at him. “You are sure of this?”

The man nodded.

Parker stepped away, and the merchant cowered back as if expecting him to strike. But Parker was already fumbling for a coin each for the watermen for their help, tossing them through the air to them. He ran back up the narrow path that led to the road, leaving the merchant to his own devices.

Whoever was behind this, if they were trying to steal the Mirror of Naples, then they were surely trying to force the King into war.

It is necessary for a prince wishing to hold his own to know how to do wrong, and to make use of it or not according to necessity.

—Machiavelli
, The Prince,
chapter 15

T
he King was back at Bridewell.

It saved Parker riding out to him, for which he was infinitely grateful.

He kept hold of Susanna as they skirted the chaos of the courtyard, trying to avoid the mud. He shoved a little harder than he usually would against the crush of bodies as he forged a path into the great hall.

A monkey was screeching and chattering, causing cries and yelps as it ran over the heads and shoulders of the servants lifting trunks and chests.

It leaped at Parker, landing on his shoulder and clutching tight to his cloak. Parker could feel it shivering, hopping from side to side with agitation.

Susanna stopped, uncertain, and he grabbed the creature by the scruff of its neck and held it away from her.

“He won’t hurt you.”

Parker saw Will Somers approaching, stoop-shouldered and gaunt, his face for once free of any mockery.

“Come here, lambkin,” Somers said.

Parker held the monkey out and it jumped into Somers’s arms and then scuttled to his shoulder, chattering softly in his ear. Somers stroked its golden brown fur with a long, bony finger. “You were frightened by this unholy racket, weren’t you, lambkin?”

“Where is the King?” Parker drew Susanna closer as two servants staggered past with a massive chest.

“In his bedchamber, and when he has bathed and changed his clothes, he’ll move to the Privy Chamber.” Somers bowed to Susanna and then to Parker. “You missed all manner of excitement in the country.”

“I have excitement enough of my own. Is the King much harmed?”

Somers shook his head. “He’s well enough, thanks to his groom. The lad will be well rewarded for his quick thinking. He jumped down into the mud with His Majesty and pulled him out.”

“That must have given you some good material, Fool.”

Somers laughed. “I haven’t been with the King long enough to make light of his near death.” He gave a theatrical wave of his hand. “Although if the King continues so hale, hearty, and energetic, I may yet have the chance.”

“I must speak with the King before he moves to the Privy Chamber, so we will take our leave.” Parker gave a quick bow, but Somers laid a hand on his arm.

“What trouble have you been stirring up, Parker? The moment the King arrived, Wolsey was in with him, complaining about you.”

Parker looked hard at Somers, then at his hand. With exaggerated flourish, Somers lifted it up, extending a finger and giving a little twirl.

“So taciturn. So fierce. I have been here only a month, and already I have learned that you are the one to watch out for. And you are so silent and stealthy, you give me nothing to mock.”

Parker still said nothing, and Somers gave a great laugh that rose from his belly. “Ah, how can I deny you? The King has ordered all but his Fool to be banished from his presence while his servants change his clothes, and since you are such a sweet talker, I will get you before him.”

“We are much obliged.” Susanna curtsied, and Somers looked at her thoughtfully.

Parker drew her even closer. “Lead on, Fool.”

H
enry was being dried. Parker saw his lips drawn into a snarl as he endured the nervous pats of one of his servants of the body, and braced himself for the King’s bad mood.

“Your Majesty.” Parker bowed.

Henry looked up and some of his irritation faded. “Parker. What news?”

He would have to play this carefully. “There is something afoot, I fear.”

Henry lost his scowl completely and rubbed his hands together. “Ah. Tell me. I am in dire need of distraction from my troubles.”

“This may add to them.” Parker kept his eyes on the King’s face.

Henry laughed, a bitter, hard sound. “They are so heavy now, I don’t expect a little extra weight will make much difference.” He stepped into fresh body linen and gave Parker a nod to continue.

“I think we should have this discussion alone, Your Majesty.” Parker knew Norfolk’s habit of insinuating spies into the King’s service, and Wolsey was known for doing the same. None of the listening ears in this room could be trusted.

“Out then, all of you.”

Parker held out a robe for the King to put on while the room emptied.

Henry shrugged into it and sat beside the fire, and for the first time, Parker thought the weight of rule rested heavily on his shoulders.

“Are you truly well from the fall?”

“Aye. In body, I am fine. It is the squabbling over who will succeed me if I should die that makes me sick of spirit.”

“What will you do?” There were only a few options open to the King, and none of them would make everyone happy.

“I think to make Fitzroy a Knight of the Garter. Elevate him, prepare him. He has not the legitimacy of Mary, but he is
a boy. The nobles will not take well to a woman on the throne.”

“It is a problem.” Parker eased into a chair beside the King.

Henry snorted. “My one child is a girl, the other is a bastard. Katherine will not bear me another.” He stared into the fire. “I can hear the howls of the dogs closing in on me.” Then he roused himself. “What is this secret news?”

“I have stumbled upon a plot. I am not sure of it, but it may be the French are trying to steal the Mirror of Naples. Either as a ransom payment to the Emperor for the return of the French king, or to restore France’s pride.”