The Fugitive's Sword, page 31
part #1 of Lord's Learning Series
Finally, she took pen, paper and ink and wrote a brief note.
I apologise for leaving without a farewell, but I think it better this way. I have a ship in mind and expect to be home within a few short days. I will write to you then. Thank you so much for your hospitality. You know you always have my fondest affection and highest regard.
She left it unsigned, hoping Lucy would forgive her, then quickly blotted and folded it, leaving Lucy’s name clearly on the front and the note in plain sight. Then she wrote a second note and folded that too, before slipping it in her pocket.
It did not do to forget that Harington House had once been known as Fisher’s Folly. A sprawling extravagant place, with many odd side passages and unused backways which Kate had enjoyed exploring in her time there. Now she put the knowledge to good use, leaving the house and then the grounds, by ways she was certain were unobserved.
She debated the notion of hiring a horse, but decided that might draw more attention, so she resigned herself to the walk across London. At least the roads she needed to take were in general well used and the worst danger was from a pickpocket, but Kate had secured all her valuables in pockets close about her body where not even the most nimble fingers could pry without her noticing.
From Bishopsgate, she went along Threadneedle Street and Poultry, through the bustling commerce of Cheapside and past the booksellers on Paternoster Row where she paused to visit a shop that specialised in esoteric tomes and secured a copy of John Dee’s Monas Hieroglyphica on behalf of a non-existent master, before reaching Ludgate and Fleet Street beyond.
It did not take her long to find Hanging Sword Court, the entrance to which lay close beside a tavern called The Crown. However, after that, not having seen the place by day, she was uncertain and had to ask directions to the house she sought.
Kate approached the door confidently and knocked, giving the note she had penned to the servant who answered. A few minutes later she was invited inside and shown into a small room, much more sparsely and frugally furnished than the rooms Kate had seen on her previous visit.
Di Zorzi was sitting at a table in the corner, writing. He barely glanced up as she walked in and made an appropriate bow, before returning his focus to the page which he signed and sprinkled with fine sand from a bowl beside him. He shook the sand off as he spoke.
“Your mistress said she trusted you in this matter and that were I willing to assist her you would be able to tell me why she seeks my aid in more detail. It goes without need of saying that if I can serve Lady Catherine in any way at all then I am at her service, whatever the personal risk—so what have you been charged to tell me?”
Kate’s spirits lifted.
“Thank you, Signor di Zorzi. I cannot tell you how much that means to me, and I promise I shall recompense you for your trouble.”
He looked up sharply as she spoke. For a terrible moment, Kate thought he was going to denounce her for dressing as a man, but then his expression dissolved from wary surprise into mirth, and he laughed aloud.
“Lady Catherine, you had me fooled completely in that guise. I congratulate you.” Then he sobered. “But your note speaks of your being in need of my assistance in a matter that could be dangerous. You must tell me what that is, but first let me send for some refreshments and—”
Kate spoke quickly.
“I will tell you, and gladly, but none must know I am here. That is why I came dressed like this. If you are unable to help me, I can leave again and none need even know I have been here.”
Di Zorzi gave her a deep bow.
“My lady, it would be an honour and a privilege to do whatever I may to assist you in any way at all. Just speak, and if it is within my power, it will be done.”
Although she had counted on his support, Kate still knew real relief at his words.
“I need a place to stay and help to make some very quiet enquiries with certain Dutch merchants.” Now she could feel glad she had taken the time to ascertain who would be amenable to an approach about an unauthorised passenger amongst her other enquiries in London. “You see, I need to leave England urgently and not as myself.”
To his immense credit in Kate’s estimation, di Zorzi did not ask her anything about her reasons for needing to leave. Instead, he merely nodded and looked thoughtful.
“It would be safest for you to stay here. I trust my household to be discreet, but even so I think it for the best if it was not known who you are.” Then his lips pursed. “I do have an idea, but it is one I hesitate to suggest, considering you are who you are.”
“Please do suggest,” Kate said. “As you can see from my present guise, I am not troubled by taking on even humble roles.”
That made di Zorzi smile.
“As it happens Mammina has been looking for a new maidservant. I am sure she would be delighted to allow you to pretend to that role for as long as it takes to secure your passage. Then the household would have little to talk about. You would be able to take your meals in her room and have scant need to mix with the other servants we have. You have met Pietro and I assure you he is as close-mouthed and loyal as one man may be to another. Our other servants have not seen you, so they will have no notion that you are not who I tell them that you are.”
Kate nodded, her relief deepening as he spoke.
“As long as you are sure your mother would not mind being drawn into such a deception.”
“Not at all. In fact, I am certain she will be delighted to have your company for a time and will find it something of an adventure.”
“Then I must thank you,” Kate said simply.
So, she found her temporary sanctuary in the di Zorzi household and went by the name of Kate Harris. Despite Severina di Zorzi’s reluctance to have her undertake any menial work, Kate insisted that to ensure she did not arouse any suspicion, she should do at least some of the work Severina would expect from a maid.
As well she did so because a few days later Buckingham sent a man to ask di Zorzi what business his mother had been conducting with Lady Catherine and if he had seen her since. Di Zorzi replied the nature of that business was not known to him and he had not seen her since, but if the gentleman wished to speak with his mother, he was most welcome.
Listening from the next room, Kate heard Severina rise to the occasion magnificently. She had the enquiring gentleman furiously copying down recipes for baccala’ mantecato, seppie col nero and golosessi. For that, she claimed, had been the reason for Kate’s previous visit. Perhaps, Kate thought, he did so in the belief they might represent some variety of secret cypher.
Her stay extended perforce from days into one week and then two. Di Zorzi had sent Pietro to speak with the Dutch merchants and whilst she was assured of passage to the United Provinces for a price, it seemed no ship of theirs would be sailing until February. The Dutch merchant promised discreet passage with no questions asked for a price that Kate thought much too high. However, under the circumstances she had little choice but to pay.
By the end of January even the servants in the di Zorzi house were gossiping about Frances and her baby. Kate learned that the duke was seeking every means possible to take legal proceedings against Frances and Sir Robert and there was talk of a case being heard in the Star Chamber. It was widely spoken that if the king had not intervened through not wanting to be seen as favouring his beloved Buckingham, that Frances and Sir Robert would both have been thrown in prison and left to rot. Kate did not doubt for a moment that had the duke been able to lay hands on herself as well he would have done the same to her and tried very hard to make sure she was implicated somehow.
The delay chafed. Not only because of her wish to be gone from England for her own excellent reasons and concern for the safety of the di Zorzis as long as she remained under their roof, but also because she knew both Lucy and the queen would be anxious at her disappearance. But there was nothing she could do except promise herself that she would write to Lucy as soon as she was safely back in Den Haag.
When word came that the Dutch merchant had a ship about to sail and there was a passenger cabin available upon it, Kate was more than ready to leave. It took some persuasion to convince her hosts that she would be safer travelling alone as an army officer’s wife than for the redoubtable Pietro to accompany her. However, she could not prevent di Zorzi taking other action to do what he could to ensure her security.
“The captain of this ship will treat you well,” di Zorzi assured her. “I have spoken to him myself and told him you are married to an old comrade of mine. He understands that he needs to see you safely to your destination.”
Kate could only hope di Zorzi had avoided terrifying the man too much.
She boarded De Zeekat after dark on a cold February evening, just before it was ready to leave on the tide. She had with her an old travelling coffer which held the few items she had brought with her from Lucy’s and the clothes she had purchased to better fit her role as a personal maid. In addition, Severina had insisted on packing some of her own clothes and other essentials.
The captain might have been intimidated on Kate’s behalf, but if so, there was no sign of that. He was reserved but polite as he showed her to the small cabin she was to occupy for the voyage and invited her to take her meals at his own table if she wished. Kate decided that she did wish, as otherwise she would be confined to her cabin for much of the day.
A little to her own surprise she slept very well and woke to find the coast of England falling astern. With a good wind, the captain assured her they should be in Vlissingen the following day. The thought was bittersweet for Kate. Much as she yearned for her home in Lange Voorhout, there was also the knowledge it would not be her home for much longer. She had never visited Halberstadt where Christian was the Lutheran administrator of the bishopric, but she assumed that would be where he would wish her to live. She had a strong presentiment that most of the time she would be there alone. It would be unlikely to expect that Christian would give up his military devotion to Queen Elizabeth’s cause just because he had married.
Pushing the thought away, Kate enjoyed the sensation of pure freedom that the wind blowing on her face provided. She thought she could understand what made men take to the seas. The feeling of being unrestrained as the wind drove the ship over the waves, like a bird in flight. An illusion, of course, but a powerful one which served to lift her spirits. When it became too cold to be out on deck, she sat in her cabin and tried to make sense of John Dee’s rather cryptic book until nightfall.
She was woken from sleep by a pounding on her door and an urgent voice calling.
“Mevrouw Harris. Wake up.”
Sitting up she realised from what light came into the cabin that it was just paling towards dawn.
Pulling her woollen cloak about her over her smock, she went to the door and opened it. As she did so, she became aware of the intense flurry of activity on deck. It was hard to be sure of exactly what was going on because there was a low mist which seemed to cling to everything, but she had the impression of men running, climbing, and she could hear orders being shouted. Kate had not noticed this amount of frenetic action on De Zeekat since she had boarded it. In fact, she realised as the last tendrils of sleep vanished from her mind, driven out by a sudden concern, she had never seen such on any ship she had been on before.
“Mevrouw Harris,” the sailor at her door was saying, “the captain says you are to stay in your cabin and not come out until he tells you it is safe to do so.”
Kate’s heart skipped a beat.
“What is happening?” she demanded even as the sailor turned away, his task done. He glanced back and there was uncertainty in his eyes. “Tell me,” Kate insisted, forgetting for a moment to keep to the role of a demure housewife.
“Dunkirkers,” the sailor said and, before she could ask more, he had gone.
Dunkirkers.
Kate knew full well what that word presaged. They called them the Barbary pirates of the north. Savage and inhuman. The only real hope was to outrun them, and Kate was sure that even now every last ounce of sail the ship carried was being spread to catch whatever wind there might be. But the presence of mist spoke to there being very little.
If they were caught and the captain of De Zeekat did not swiftly surrender, then the men aboard could all expect to be killed. If he did, then there was still no guarantee they would escape that fate and even in the best case they could expect to endure brutal circumstances which might lead to their deaths regardless. Crews did survive the Dunkirkers, but most often it seemed more by luck or the will of God than by any attempt on the part of their captors to ensure that they did.
And women?
As her mind raced Kate was hastily dressing. She had no wish to have to face whatever might come clad only in a smock. She had heard that some Dunkirkers took pride in being chivalrous. That any women who fell into their clutches might expect to be treated with respect and, aside from having their journey interrupted, suffered little ill. She had also heard darker tales. Tales she decided she was not going to dwell on.
Once dressed, she considered quickly what she should do with her most precious things. She debated hiding them at the bottom of the coffer, but surely that would be one of the first things they would search hoping to find valuables. So instead, she decided to keep them on her person. She also took out the only weapon she possessed – her own sharp bladed eating knife – and slipped it into her sleeve.
And all the time she was dressing and preparing she could hear the men on deck. She could tell from the way the shouts were becoming more desperate that De Zeekat must not be escaping quickly enough and found herself praying silently as her fingers worked to do up the lacing of her bodice, having concealed the documents that mattered most under her stomacher.
As she did so there came gunfire. Firstly, from De Zeekat’s handful of guns, the acrid stench of powder smoke reaching her moments later, and then a louder response from the Dunkirker, terrifyingly close. The shouts on deck were drowned out by screams. She heard the orders being called to reload the guns, but before that was completed the whole ship jumped and she fell back on her bed. As she got back to her feet she could hear a hoard of howling demons swarming over the ship, battle cries mixing with the helpless pleas, terrified shrieks and agonised screams. Then it was over.
One voice now predominated, shouting clear orders in a version of Dutch she recognised as belonging to Spanish ruled Flanders. Orders to secure the ship, to bring down the sails, unload and run in the guns and make sure supplies of powder were carefully handled. One man was set to check the cargo, another to see what food supplies the ship carried. Then the words that made the blood in her body run like liquid ice.
“…and Schiavono, search the cabins for anything of value. Come on now, move, you lazy bastards, we need to be quick, that Dutch fleet will be back as soon as this mist lifts.”
Kate moved the knife in her sleeve, so it was ready to slip into her hand, stiffened her spine and lifted her chin. Whatever might come, she would face it ready to fight, and any man who thought he might abuse her would find she was neither weak nor helpless.
It seemed an age before he came.
She could hear him through the wooden wall that separated the cabins, throwing over the captain’s table and cursing softly at the locks on the coffers. Cursing, a little to her surprise, in English. An Englishman with an Italian name serving on a ship from Flanders? That on its own spoke to what little of honour he must have. In her mind’s eye she could picture him, brawny and broad shouldered, with a ferocious, cruel gaze.
Then the door opened, and he came in holding up a lantern in one hand and a sword in the other. Despite all her resolution, Kate was briefly dazzled by the light and took a step back. She heard his indrawn breath, holding something more than just discovery. And then her sight was restored, and she found her gaze captured and held by a pair of brilliant turquoise eyes, eyes that seemed to pass through the protective carapace she had shut around her soul. For a moment the earth stood still, and she was pinned to its very centre.
Then her field of vision widened, and she saw the eyes were set in a youthful face with the first growth of beard, no older than the servant she had pretended to be when she went to ask di Zorzi for his aid. This was surely not the man she had heard in the captain’s cabin, this must be an apprentice seaman, though by the quality of his dress he was the son of a wealthy man. He moved his head as he lifted the lantern and she saw a shimmer of pearl where his hair emerged from beneath the sailor’s cap he wore. And that was when she knew she had seen this face before and where she had seen it. He was speaking softly in English—a verse she did not know.
“Set me whereas the sun doth parch the green
Or where his beams do not dissolve the ice,
In temperate heat where he is felt and seen;
In presence prest of people, mad or wise…Who are you?” he added, speaking a little louder and in Dutch.
A moment before she would not have hesitated to reply with her assumed identity, but her realisation had changed everything. Even so, she was not sure it would be safe to admit to who she really was. So instead, she countered his question with one of her own in English.
“You are Philip Lord, are you not?” For surely there could not be two such youths in all the world unless the one she had seen in that portrait in Theobalds was twin to this young man.
The effect of that was everything she could have hoped for and too much more. His eyes widened in surprise and the point of his sword swept up, forcing her backwards to avoid it. Suddenly she realised her mistake. She had forgotten this was someone who had fled England as a traitor and might see her knowing his true identity as a real threat. She spoke again quickly.
