‘Where, then, is the treason?’ asked Nicholas. ‘If swords and pikes are sold to the Dutch, they are bought by those who are friendly to our nation. Nobody can question that.’
‘Unless that cargo is unloaded on Dutch soil,’ argued Firethorn, ‘to be carried to another country over land. If those weapons are part of some legal trade, why do they have to be costumed as garden implements? And why should weapons be sent to the Continent when we have a greater need for them in Ireland? There’s treason brewing here, have no doubt. Another fact supports it.’
‘What is that, Lawrence?’ said Elias.
‘Sir Godfrey Avenell. Nick bade me enquire after our Master of the Armoury and so I did. Every guard and servant around the palace has a tale about the man.’
‘Do they call him traitor?’ said Nicholas.
‘Far from it,’ said Firethorn. ‘They respect the noble knight. He is diligent in his office and fair-minded with those who work beneath him. Sir Godfrey has a flair for staging tournaments and a knowledge of jousting that is based on years of experience.’ He turned to Elias. ‘One of his old opponents in the saddle was Lord Hunsdon. I had forgot our Lord Chamberlain was also a notable jouster in his younger day. Their friendship started in the tiltyard.’
‘How does Lord Hunsdon’s name come in?’ said Nicholas.
‘He signed the order sending Edmund to prison.’
‘Yes,’ added Elias. ‘Our patron found that out. The Lord Chamberlain is also responsible for the injunction that keeps us out of the Queen’s Head. He is giving Sir Godfrey full return on their friendship.’
‘Lord Hunsdon will have the reddest face in Christendom when the truth about that friend is published,’ observed Firethorn. ‘Do you know what they all ask about the Master of the Armoury? Where does he get his wealth? Why does a man who has but a modest income for his duties keep a house in the Strand and another in the country? How can he afford to dress as well as he does, to ride on such fine coursers and to afford suits of armour for his favourites?’
‘I begin to see your reasoning,’ said Elias.
‘His money comes from selling arms to our enemies.’
‘Can this be proved?’ said Nicholas.
‘It already has been to my satisfaction.’
‘We’ll need more evidence yet,’ continued the book holder, ‘but it certainly explains why Master Chaloner met his death. He strayed too close to the truth. Sir Godfrey Avenell is not just concealing his part in the killing of Thomas Brinklow. He may be hiding this appalling treason.’
Elias was vengeful. ‘A man who betrays his country is no better than a dog. Sir Godfrey should be hanged, drawn and quartered. Think of the wickedness of it! Those weapons he has sold abroad may be used to kill his own countrymen!’
Firethorn nodded. ‘We must stop the devil forthwith.’
‘He must wait his turn,’ said Nicholas. ‘First, we must catch Sir John Tarker in our snare. He is a party to the murders if not to the treason. He is also the chief shield used by Sir Godfrey. Remove him and we may see what evil and corruption lie behind it.’
‘Sir John stays at the palace,’ said Firethorn. ‘How do we entice him out? We have no means to gain entry there. We can hardly expect him to come calling at our invitation.’
Nicholas grinned. ‘Yes, we can. And he will.’
***
Sir John Tarker mounted his horse by the light of the torch in the wall-bracket. Karl made final adjustments to the girth of his own mount. Midnight was approaching and all the gates of the palace were sealed but they were about to leave by a postern at the rear. Clouds drifted lazily across the moon. Tarker grunted with pleasure. Darkness was a good omen.
‘Heaven blesses our enterprise,’ he said. ‘We thought to ask for a key to the house and one is offered.’
‘Agnes is a good woman,’ said Karl, putting a foot in the stirrup and hauling himself up. ‘She has never let me down before.’ He gave a cruel laugh. ‘But, then, I have never disappointed her. Agnes will be well-rewarded for this night’s work.’
‘I’ve a mind to reward her in bed myself,’ said Tarker, ‘if I had not already set my eye on someone else in the house. Once Nicholas Bracewell is out of the way, all else falls into my hands. Come, Karl.’
The guard unbolted the postern gate and the two of them went through it. The horses were soon cantering across the grass in the direction of the village. Sir John Tarker was in good humour. The message that had been sent by Agnes had come at exactly the right moment. The maidservant claimed that she had overheard Emilia Brinklow confess to Nicholas Bracewell that her brother’s papers had not all gone up in flames. Records of his most recent work had been hidden elsewhere in the house because of their importance. According to the letter, Nicholas Bracewell insisted on taking the papers to his bedchamber for safekeeping. Agnes promised to leave a key near a side-door so that Karl could slip into the house to steal the documents.
Sir John Tarker was delighted. Nicholas Bracewell and the missing papers, which had caused so much trouble. If he could kill the former and retrieve the latter, he would be back once more in Sir Godfrey Avenell’s charmed circle. One night’s work would restore all that had been taken away.
They came into the village and slowed to a trot. When the silhouette of the house rose up before them, they dismounted and tethered their horses to some bushes. As they approached silently on foot, both felt their blood race at the prospect of action. A soldier and a jouster, Tarker always revelled in combat but Karl was just as keen to be involved. When he had knocked out Simon Chaloner with a blow from his tongs, the armourer had wanted to finish him off. Deprived of that pleasure, he was eager to be involved in the slaying of Nicholas Bracewell.
Both wore dark attire which allowed easy movement and blended with the night. They circled the house warily to check that nobody was still awake. The whole place was in darkness. Karl led the way back into the garden to await the signal promised in his lover’s message. Only when a lighted candle appeared at her window was it safe for them to enter. They crouched in the bushes and looked up at the top of the house, cursing the delay and wondering if something was amiss. Absorbed in their vigil, they did not realise that they were themselves under surveillance and that Valentine was curled up like a dog in the undergrowth only yards away.
‘Hurry, Agnes!’ Karl muttered under his breath.
‘Where is the woman?’ hissed Tarker.
‘She will come.’
‘When?’
He got an immediate answer. A flickering candle was held in the topmost window for a few seconds before the curtains were drawn to hide it. Tarker jabbed his companion and they trotted towards the side-door of the house. It was the work of a moment to locate the key that the maidservant had left for them. Karl put it into the lock and turned it slowly. When the door opened, they went noiselessly in.
Their entry was not unobserved. Eyes accustomed to the darkness, Valentine saw them go into the building and knew his role. He threw a ball of moss up to a window on the first floor so that its gentle tap on the glass could act as a warning. The gardener had been thrilled to be given such responsibility by Nicholas Bracewell. Having discharged it, he withdrew once more into his hiding-place.
Tarker and the armourer moved furtively along a dark passageway. Since Karl had visited the building more than once, he was familiar with its design. Fortune favoured them. They knew that Nicholas Bracewell was in the bedchamber at the top of the first flight of stairs. They could be in and out without disturbing anyone else. Emilia Brinklow slept in a room farther along the landing and all the servants were up in the attics. Tarker led the way up the stairs, feeling for each step with his foot and taking care to make no sound. Karl’s breathing quickened with excitement.
When they reached the landing, they paused to take stock of their surroundings. Karl checked the door to the attic rooms and found it securely shut. They would have no interference from any men in the house and Emilia was the only other person on the first floor. It was time to execute their plan. Nicholas Bracewell must be despatched before a search of his chamber was made by candlelight. They would soon be riding back to Greenwich Palace with their double mission accomplished.