'Then why do you carry swords?'
All the men were armed and most had daggers at their belts as well as rapiers at their sides. It was a very necessary precaution for any travellers. Outlaws, rogues and vagabonds lurked along the roads in search of prey. Nicholas did not want to alarm the boy by telling him this and instead assured him that the very size and strength of the company would deter any possible attack. Richard Honeydew would be as safe in the countryside as he would be when he slept in his bed at the house in Shoreditch under the formidable but affectionate guard of Margery Firethorn. The boy relaxed visibly.
Short, thin and with the bloom of youth upon his delicate features, Richard Honeydew had been carefully shaped by Nature to take on female roles. His boyish charms became even more alluring when he changed his sex and his unforced prettiness translated readily into the beauty of a young woman. A mop of blond hair that was usually hidden beneath a wig now sprouted out from under his cap. Because the boy was so unaware of his several attractions, they became even more potent.
'Would you like to ride on a horse, Dick?'
'Oh, yes, Master Gill.'
'Hop up behind me, then.'
'Will it be safe, sir?'
'If you hold on tight to my waist,'
Barnaby Gill had brought his horse alongside the waggon and was now offering a gloved hand to the boy. Nicholas intervened swiftly.
'I need the lad to help with me with the reins.'
'Do you so?' said Gill testily.
'He must be taught how to drive the waggon.'
'You have pupils enough for that task, man.'
None so apt as Dick Honeydew.'
'Come, let me teach him other lessons.'
He is not for school today, Master Gill.'
Nicholas spoke politely but firmly and the other backed off with a hostile glare. The boy was still unawakened to the more sinister implications of the friendship which Barnaby Gill showed towards him from time to time and Nicholas had to move in as protector. Understanding nothing of what had passed between the two men, Richard Honeydew was simply disappointed to have lost the chance to ride upon the bay mare.
'Must I truly know how to drive the waggon?'
'We must all take our turn at the reins.'
'Why did Master Gill anger so?'
He was deprived of his wishes, Dick.' May I never ride upon a horse?'
Master Hoode will oblige you at any time.
The troupe rolled on its way, pausing briefly at a wayside inn for refreshment before moving on again. Had they all been mounted, they might have covered thirty miles in a day but their resources did not run to such a large stable of horses. Since they went at the rate of those walking on foot, they had to settle for much less distance. If they pushed themselves, they would have made twenty miles before nightfall but it would have wearied them and left them with neither the time nor the strength for an impromptu performance at the place where they stopped. Lawrence Firethorn and Nicholas Bracewell had discussed the itinerary m some detail. It was important to pace themselves carefully.
Richard Honeydew sought more education.
Did you see that head, Master Bracewell?'
'Head?'
'As we left London. Upon a spike at Bishopsgate.'
'I marked it, lad.'
'The sight made me feel sick.'
'That was partly the intention.'
'Can any man deserve such a fate?'
'Anthony Rickwood was a traitor and the penalty for treason is death, Whether that death should be so cruel and barbarous is another matter.'
'Who was the man?'
'Part of a Catholic conspiracy,' said Nicholas. 'He and his fellows plotted to murder the Queen during a visit she was due to make to Sussex.'
'How was the conspiracy uncovered?'
'By Sir Francis Walsingham. He has spies everywhere. One of his informers learned of the plot in the nick of time and Master Rickwood was seized at once.'
'What of the other conspirators?'
'There will be further arrests when their names are known. Mr Secretary Walsingham will not rest until every last one of them has his head upon a spike. He has vowed that he will bring all Catholic traitors to justice.'
'Will he so do?'
'Doubt it not, Dick. His spies are well-chosen and well-trained in their work. He controls them all with great skill. It was not just our naval commanders who defeated the Armada. We owe much to Mr Secretary Walsingham as well. He it was who foretold the size and armaments of the Spanish fleet.'
'You seem to know much about him.'
'I sailed with Drake,' said Nicholas, 'and he was closely acquainted with Sir Francis Walsingham.'
'Was he?'
'The Secretary of State has always taken a special interest in the exploits of our navigators.'
'Why?'
'Because they had a darker purpose.'
'What was that, Master?'
'Piracy.'
The boy's eyes widened with outrage at the idea.
'Sir Francis Drake a pirate!' he exclaimed.
'What else would you call raids on foreign vessels and towns?' said Nicholas. 'Piracy. Pure and simple. I was there, lad. I saw it.'
'But piracy is a terrible crime.'
'There is a way around that problem.'
'Is there?'
'Yes, and I suspect that Walsingham was the man who found it. He persuaded the Queen to become involved in the enterprise. In return for receiving a share in the spoils of the voyage, Her Majesty granted us letters of marque.'
'Letters of marque?'
'They turned us from pirates into privateers.'
'And this was done by our own dear Queen?'
'With the connivance of Walsingham. He urged her to encourage the lawless acts of Drake and his like. When they captured Spanish ships, they brought money into the Treasury and tweaked the nose of Roman Catholicism.'
Richard Honeydew gasped as he tried to take it all in. He was profoundly shocked by the news that a great national hero had at one time been engaged in piracy, but he did not doubt Nicholas's word. He was confused, too, by the religious aspect.
'Why do the Catholics want to kill the Queen?'
'She is the symbol of our Protestant country.'
'Is it such a crime to follow Rome?'
'Yes, lad,' said Nicholas. 'Times have changed. My father was brought up in the old religion but King Henry turned him into a Protestant, and the whole realm besides. Most people would not dare to believe what my father once believed. They are too afraid of Walsingham.'
'So am I,' said the boy.
