Sackett's Land

            'They've gone?' I looked about me. Two men were down, one moaning softly, one completely unconscious. The others were staggering as they fled.

            'Hired men like them are cowards!' Jublain said contemptuously. 'They are not fighting men. They'd steal a purse from an old woman, or three or four might attack someone. They are only vicious, and have neither courage nor the heart for a fight.'

            Nonetheless, we had taken some bruises. A point had cut my sleeve, scratching my arm, and Corvino had a bad bruise where a cudgel had struck him on the shoulder.

            We mounted, the richer by two swords and a dagger, dropped and left behind. The wounded we left where they were, to get back as best they might.

            'We must leave the Tabard,' I said, as we rode back. 'If they do not know we are there, they will find us.'

            'Where then?' Jublain asked.

            'There is a place,' Corvino said, 'kept by a sailor's wife. It is clean, well-kept. I have stayed there.'

            'And there's the ship,' I said, 'we can go aboard her.'

            Yet we had left some few things at the Tabard, and went back for them. Coveney Hasling was in the common room when we entered.

            'Ah? You have returned,' he greeted me. 'I have some things.' I said.

            Taking our ale with us, we climbed to our room on the floor above. There I opened the packet and showed him, explaining the find.

            'Excellent!' He pinched his nose with two fingers as he studied them one by one. 'Truly excellent. This packet, as is, will bring a pretty price. As for the coins—'

            'Do take them then,' I said, 'and do the best you can. Pay the money, when you get it, to my account with Captain Tempany, and I'll be obliged.'

            Pushing the packet to Hasling, I said, 'Jublain, you and Corvino take our goods to the Tempany ship. It is the Tiger ... a three-master of two hundred tons, no forecastle. Take our goods aboard and await me there. I must go to Saint Paul's Walk.'

            'Do you be careful, then,' Jublain said. 'It is a place where anything might happen.'

            'Genester will not yet have the news of what happened, I think. Those who fail are not swift to report their failure. I shall go, then come on board with the remainder of our goods.'

            'Our goods?' Jublain stared at me. 'Yours, rather.'

            'Ours,' I said, 'one-half for me, one-quarter each for you. If either of you decides to leave, you leave your goods as well.'

            Corvino smiled. 'It is more than I ever had, this lot,' he said. 'And I shall stay with you, Master Sackett.'

            'I, also,' Jublain said. 'One way or the other I am like to get a cracked skull. It is better in company that I like.'

            Saint Paul's Walk was crowded as ever, yet I found my way to Peter Tallis's stall. He smiled up at me, and thrust a packet of manuscript to me. 'There it is,' he said, 'ready and waiting.'

            I ran through the lot, scanning a page here and there. It was, indeed, what I wanted. I paid the sum.

            Tallis smiled at me as he took it. 'If you've further need for such things,' he said, 'I can put a hand upon them. I like your business. It is different.'

            'We will talk, then.' I sat down on a bench. 'You may be able to help me more.'

            He indicated the sheaf of manuscript. 'Most of what I do is dull stuff. This I enjoyed. I read it. Now I know more of England than else I should ever have known.'

            'It is said,' I began, 'there are charts to be had of the New World. Charts even the Admirals know nothing of.'

            'Charts?' His eyes wrinkled at the corners. 'Yes, yes, of course. It is a quiet pleasure of mine, this matter of charts. Richard Hakluyt has come to me from time to time, but he wants the accounts more than the charts, and also—'

            'Also?'

            'He has too many friends who are men of power. I sometimes come upon things it would be difficult to explain. But to you ...?'

            'To me? I would say nothing of the source. Talk to me of charts.'

            He stood up to gather his gear together. 'I will close the booth. There is a tavern close by. I think we will talk better there.'

            Peter Tallis was no common man but a scholar in his way, a shrewd man with not too many scruples but more than enough interest in my trade. Over ale in the shadows of a small place nearby we talked. Finally, it was agreed. For a fitting sum, he removed from his bundle and gave me a dozen charts.

            We talked of many things, and the hour grew late. Finally, my roll of charts beneath my arm, I returned to the Tabard. All was quiet. Only one man loafed about, a dark, sullen-looking fellow with a wet look to his eyes I did not like. He lurked near a cart, and I asked him if it was his, and for hire. To both questions he agreed.

            With his help I loaded the rest of my goods into the cart, including in one of the bags the charts I had obtained.

            'I want to go to the Tiger. Do you know the ship?'

            'Tempany's vessel? I know it.'

            It took us several trips. A soft rain was falling by the time we last were loaded. Hunched in my heavy cloak, I walked behind the cart, whose wheels rumbled over the cobbles.

            I saw the spars of the Tiger looming ahead. Beside it the La Rochelle pinnace that was Nick Bardle's ship, the Jolly Jack.

            Tired as I was, and sleepy, I thought only of the warm bunk awaiting me aboard the Tiger. I glanced at Bardle's ship, all dark and still, yawned, then heard a rush of feet behind me.

            Turning swiftly, my hand went to my sword hilt, but my heavy cloak got in the way, and the carter suddenly jostled me off-balance. They closed in on me from all sides. I struggled, but my arms were pinned to my side, a cloak thrown over my head and jerked tight around me, my cries muffled. A blow on the head caused me to fall. I started to rise, saw the futility of it. For if I tried again, they might kill me there. If I lay quiet, they might think me worse off than I was.

            A voice said, 'Well done!' I heard a clink of coins from hand to hand. 'Remember, Bardle, I never want to see or hear of him again!'

            'No need to fret. There's a sight of deep water betwixt here and America!'

        Chapter 7

            Rough hands took me up and I was carried aboard and dropped through a hatch to the cargo. My goods were dumped in after me, and the hatch was battened down. It was close and hot in the hold.

            When the hatch was closed I tried to sit up but my head spun and pain throbbed dizzily in my skull. I managed to free my body from the cloak. I lay back, breathing heavily in the close, hot air. I had been hit harder than I realized, a mild concussion. After a bit my consciousness slipped away and there was a long time when I was unaware of anything.

            It was the movement that brought me alive, movement of a ship on the water. We must have come down the river during the night for there was more than river in the movement I felt. I sat up groggily, choking with thirst.

            It was totally black in the hold, and when I tried to stand my head bumped the edge of the hatch.

            There was a pounding of feet on the deck, shouting, and the creak of timbers. The ship began to move faster. I could feel it, I thought. I sat down, holding my head in my hands. They had me then, Nick Bardle, at Rupert Genester's orders.

            Well, they wouldn't keep me. What was it he had said: there's a lot of deep water? We'd see about