“Do you know what it means?”
“I was hoping you would.”
He shook his head. “Benedict always kept pigeons, as you well know.” He nodded toward Bridget. “Beyond that? Nothing comes to mind.”
I told him we’d thought that Rémi was the Raven and described him. “Simon said he’s dead. But in the letter, the Raven claims Master Benedict was his enemy. Can you think of who that might be?”
Isaac mulled it over. “Hard to say. I don’t recognize Rémi’s description, but the man might have met Benedict years ago, so he wouldn’t look like he did last November. What’s more, he could have met him during his travels, maybe in France. I doubt I’ve ever seen him.” He regarded me. “You’re not certain this Rémi was the Raven, then?”
“I just want to make sure.”
“Understandable. Unfortunately, your description narrows down nothing. Your master made countless enemies over the years, some quite serious.”
“He did?”
Isaac smiled. “You loved Benedict, so you’re forgetting how abrasive he could be with those he thought ridiculous. He had many, many arguments with other apothecaries, physicians, even Parliament, about all sorts of things. The proper preparation of remedies, the care of patients, the management of outbreaks… Half of his opponents he thought quacks; the others, fools, and he was never shy about stating it. Being well respected—if not always well liked—meant he ruined many a reputation over the years. In London and abroad.”
“So we’ll never really know,” I said, disappointed.
“Not necessarily. Benedict kept detailed journals, all the way back to his own days as an apprentice. He’ll certainly have noted his nastier opponents—and it’s the pure viciousness in this letter that worries me. Perhaps we might find something there.”
I’d read some of Master Benedict’s journals before. One had even been a great help during the plague. “I have a few at home.”
Isaac nodded. “Benedict stored the rest downstairs, so I’ll have any years you’re missing. If you bring what you have to me, I’ll go through them in detail. See if anything sparks my memory.”
“We should work out this new message first,” Sally said.
Everyone agreed that was more pressing. Isaac studied the second letter, reading the line before the puzzle. “ ‘La ruota dell’italiano,’ ” he said. “You understand what it’s asking?”
“I have the device here,” I said, holding up the sack I’d brought from Blackthorn. “I can solve the code. It’s the riddles I don’t really understand. Not even the first one.”
I spread the letters out, and we looked at the first rhyming couplet.
An oath was made, a promise sworn,
To those who wished to bind him.
But he returned, and offered scorn,
And so they come to find him.
“Lord Walsingham thought that was a threat against the king,” I said.
“I would tend to agree,” Isaac said, “and not just because of the murders at Whitehall. Charles is well known for breaking oaths.”
“He is?” Tom said, disappointed.
“Indeed. He’s a generous ruler, as you’ve all discovered, but a slippery one, when he wishes to be. Many a time he’s made a promise, then broken it when it was not to his advantage. Which does, unfortunately, make it difficult to decide who this current enemy is. Have you found any more clues?”
“Well…” I looked at the others. “When Simon was attacked, he thought he heard the assassin say something.”
“What was it?”
“ ‘For the convent.’ ”
Isaac looked at me over his spectacles, amused. “No doubt Simon misheard. But that would mean the true curse was something close. Convent… con… vent…”
“Covent, maybe?” Sally said.
“Like Covent Garden?” I said. “That’s just north of the palace.”
“The market?” Tom said. “Our enemies aren’t nuns—they’re fruits?”
Isaac smiled. “Also unlikely. But this may be the right track. Convent… Covent… oh.”
He sat up, eyes alight.
“Yes,” he said. “I know what this riddle means.”
CHAPTER
24
“WHAT IS IT?” I SAID.
Isaac sipped his coffee. “What do you know of the Civil Wars? Before His Majesty was sent into exile, I mean.”
“Just what I learned in Cripplegate.” For Master Benedict, the Civil Wars fell under the realm of politics, so he’d ignored them in my education. “Oliver Cromwell led the troops of Parliament to overthrow the previous king, Charles I. Our current king, Charles II, went to Scotland after his father was executed. Cromwell then came for him, Parliament’s troops won, and His Majesty had to flee into exile for good.”
“A fair summary,” Isaac said, “if lacking in certain details. The key points you miss concern our current king.
“Charles was in France when his father was executed. England, then, under the control of Oliver Cromwell and the Commonwealth, abolished the monarchy. But our king is king of England and Scotland, and the Scots were not willing to give up the throne. In fact, they were quite angry that Cromwell had executed Charles I, as he was their king, too, and they’d been assured of his safety.
“So the Scots suggested that Charles II rule from the north. However, they refused to let him into the country unless he signed an oath.
“The wars, you see, had become religious. The English were ruled by Puritans under Cromwell, while the Scots were Presbyterian. And the Puritans did much to try and stamp out every faith but their own.
“Scotland wanted not only to defend its own religion, but to spread it to England. So the Scots forced Charles II to sign a treaty accepting a document that promised to spread Presbyterianism, and stamp out other religions. The document was named the Solemn League and Covenant.”
I sat up. “Covenant. That’s what Simon heard. Not ‘for the convent.’ For the Covenant.”
“But this treaty was signed, what, fifteen years ago?” Sally said. “Why are they coming for His Majesty now?”
“That’s where the rest of the history matters,” Isaac said. “The treaty was a humiliation for Charles. He hated the Covenant, yet not only was he forced to sign it, he was then made to sit through constant lectures about the evils of his ways, and of his
