Council I have to show that I listen to them.'
It would be Cecil, Gresham knew. Ireland was divided by the English who came over when there was war to be fought or new land to be grabbed, and the resident Anglo-Irish, some of them from the Norman stock that had originally invaded the country. No power from England could be sustained in Ireland without the support of the Anglo-Irish, those who lived in Ireland, farmed its lands and had based their whole future on their continued occupancy. Someone had done a good job in advance of poisoning many of the Anglo-Irish leaders against Essex; the rumours had been spread that he was a philandering popinjay. It had all the hallmarks of
Cecil's work. Essex had worked hard to show he was a steady hand, had done well. There had been no rages, no illnesses, no retiring to his bed. The only extravagance had been the strange business with the page.
‘I’d like you and your company to come with me on my expedition; to be the vanguard.' Gresham bowed. It was an order, not a request.
George emerged from one door, wiping his mouth, as Gresham emerged from another. Mannion soon made a third and together they enjoyed the warmth of the sun in the courtyard.
'Did you mention Wallop?' asked Mannion, after Gresham briefly told them the gist of his conversation. 'Or Kildare? Or Ormonde, for that matter?'
'No,' said Gresham, 'and I'm not sure I will.'
'What about Wallop and Kildare?' asked George, confused. 'Have you been keeping secrets from me?' *Not deliberately,' said Gresham. 'I've been doing some research. Now I have found but as much as I can, I can bring you in on it.'
'What research?' asked George.
'Sir Henry Wallop was Treasurer to the Irish Council and one of its most experienced people,' said Gresham.
'He's the one who died, didn't he, the evening we got here?' said George. 'Everyone said it was a bad omen.'
'Yes,' said Gresham, 'he did die, in agony, spewing his guts up. Mannion found out that two of his servants left the next morning, haven't been seen since.'
'What's odd about that?' asked George. 'Servants know their job goes when their master goes. They often clear off, after seeing what they can steal, of course.'
'Servants who are closely connected with preparing their master's food?' asked Gresham.
'Ah,' said George. 'I see what you mean. And Kildare? I take it you mean the Earl of Kildare?'
'Yes. Drowned in a storm in the Irish Channel. There's a strange amount of confusion surrounding the Earl's death. He was another stalwart supporter of us English, the good Earl. No one quite seems to know why he was out in the Irish Channel at the time, or understand a drowning in what one sailor described as 'just a little bit of a blow'. And no one seems to know for certain if he fell overboard, or even if his ship sank, or what. There's a rumour on the quayside that he was pushed.'
'Rumours on the quayside!' scoffed George.
'Perhaps,' said Gresham, 'but isn't it odd that two of the steadiest and wisest people in Ireland are suddenly out of the way — permanently — when the new Lord Lieutenant arrives? And then the wisest of the lot, the Earl of Ormonde, gets called away just when the Council is deciding whether to hit Tyrone in his lair, or go gallivanting off to the counties we already control for a beauty parade?'
'Well,' said George, 'these things happen. Trouble at home, trouble with the estate…'
'It'll be interesting to see when Ormonde returns whether or not the summons was genuine, won't it?' asked Gresham.
'Look, dear boy,' said George in his most annoying avuncular manner, 'are you sure you're not seeing conspiracy under every bed? I know I was the one trying to warn you in London about plots and plotting, but here in Ireland — surely it's simpler here?'
'Could it be as simple as Cecil trying to guarantee the failure of this expedition?' asked Gresham bluntly. 'Thereby helping to destroy Essex and his reputation? And since this army will undoubtedly fight at some time or other, and Essex will undoubtedly be unable to keep out of the fighting, and commanders in Ireland have an unfortunate habit of being killed in action or dying in agony in their beds, what might you do if you were Cecil, and wanted to destroy your chief rival for good?'
There was a long silence. George, subdued at last, spoke to his booted feet. 'I'd have Essex killed,' he said, in what was almost a whisper.
'Precisely!' said Gresham. 'Best way? Bribe one of our men to
'accidentally' fire a ball into his back in the heat of action. Friendly fire. Happens all the time. The great hero killed in action, falling as he would have wished in action facing the enemies of his Queen! It would probably never even come out that he had been shot by one of his own men. Get rid of Essex while he's safely out of the country, give him a magnificent state funeral to make the mob feel better. Back-up plan? Have him poisoned. Less glamorous for Essex, same result for Cecil. Oh, and take all the right people out or away to ensure the campaign's a failure.'
George was refusing to look at Gresham.
'Come on, George. Spit it out!'
'Henry…' he started clumsily. He hardly ever used Gresham's first name. 'Is… is this your way of telling me that Cecil has ordered you to kill Essex?'
Gresham looked aghast. 'Me? Kill Essex? Of course not, you great booby! Exactly the opposite in fact. I came to protect Essex!'
George smiled thinly, wanting to be convinced.
'Summat else you must 'ave worked out,' broke in Mannion. 'If Cecil wants 'im dead, he'll most likely 'ave to kill you too, gamble on finding that letter you forged before it did any 'arm. And if he wants this campaign to fail, 'e's gonna go for you on that score as well, seein' as 'ow you're the only person talkin' military sense to im.
George looked at them both.
'So we assume that even now someone paid by Cecil is out there looking to kill you and Essex?'
'Seems reasonable,' said Gresham casually.
'And you knew that before you agreed to come out here?' asked George disbelievingly.
'Why else do you think I came?'
There was a long silence.
'I've been doing some research on Tyrone as well,' Gresham broke the silence. 'Do you know the one word that comes out time and time again when people talk about him? Dissembler.'
'Educated in England wasn't he?' asked George, trying to gather his thoughts. His knowledge of Irish history was sketchy. George had spent most of his time in Dublin writing letters home. Whatever the problem was with his estates, it was taking up more and more of his time.
'Not only educated there, but seen as an Irish lord friendly to England. Even had some of his troops trained by us, knows our military tactics inside out. Fell out with Elizabeth when he was made one of Ireland's top chiefs and had to choose between supporting one of his family arrested by us or sticking with us. He chose family — not that he had much choice. His own lot would have skewered him if he hadn't. But everyone who knows him speaks of his charm, his intelligence — and his total and utter unreliability. This man lies like you and I have a piss — it's the most natural thing we do, and something would go wrong with our day if we don't do it regularly and frequently.'
'So?' said George.
'So we're being outmanoeuvred,' said Gresham, 'by someone who's as much English as Irish. Tyrone's sending us exactly where he wants us to go.'
'Will Tyrone kill Essex? If Cecil can do it, surely Tyrone can,' asked George.
'He won't 'ave to, at this rate,' muttered Mannion. 'If Essex goes off gallivanting all over Ireland in the opposite direction to this bastard Tyrone, 'e'll either kill 'imself or make the fuckin' Queen do it for 'im. I reckon if she don't get Tyrone's head, she'll want the Earl's.'
In early May Essex marched out with 300 horse and 3,000 foot. It was all he had left after reinforcing garrisons and positions in the rest of Ireland. The rather tawdry little castle at Athy had surrendered after firing a few token musket shots, and the old Earl of Ormonde had arrived at last bringing 700 foot and 200 Irish cavalry along with him, as well as the Lords Cahir and Mountgarret, both of whom had dabbled with the rebels, and now, in
