‘How so?’
‘Their manner when he lost his money and stormed out. An eyebrow raised, a hand on my shoulder. Small things in themselves, but perhaps adding up to something more.’
‘Thomas, we should be cautious. Why would they contact you unless Fayne had told them to?’
‘There’s only one way to find out. I must meet them. With suitable precautions, of course. Any suggestions, Silas?’
‘Two, sir. Don’t meet them alone and meet them where you are safe from surprise.’
‘Such as?’
‘The Pembroke library, as you may remember, has a gallery. I could easily hide there and keep an eye on you. I have a pistol.’
‘And I will accompany you,’ said Simon. ‘Two of them, two of us.’
‘Having seen what you are capable of, Simon, I couldn’t possibly refuse your offer. How will we tell them, Silas?’
‘They told me how to get a message to them, sir.’
‘Good. Then tell them we will be in the library at four o’clock this afternoon.’
‘I will, sir. And, sir, do take care. I haven’t fired a pistol for twenty years.’
‘Then let us hope you don’t fire it today. Four o’clock, Silas. Tell them.’
‘Four o’clock, sir. Goodbye, gentlemen.’ Silas rose and, with another hint of a bow, left to deliver the message.
By fifteen minutes before four o’clock, when Thomas and Simon were seated at a reading table in the middle of the library of Pembroke College, there had still been no news of Rush either from the queen or directly from the king. There were several such tables in the library. When Thomas had last been there, each had been occupied by scholars reading and writing, and from time to time rising to take a book from the shelves that covered all four walls of the room. The library had smelt of leather bindings, ink and scholarship, and he remembered it fondly as a place of quiet learning and shared fellowship. Today it was cold and deserted. The shelves and books were in need of dusting, the floor needed sweeping and every candle had burned down to a flat stump. Thomas could smell only damp and decay. He closed his eyes and waited.
When the door opened, he looked up sharply. Silas came quietly in, the two captains behind him. They were as Thomas remembered — dark, bearded, leather jerkins and breeches, feathered caps, tall boots. In a city of such men, quite unremarkable, and both appeared unarmed. No swords, no pistols. Silas led them to where Thomas and Simon sat. Both men removed their hats and bowed. The taller one spoke first. ‘Master Hill, I am Philip Smithson and this is my fellow captain, Hugh Tomkins. We thank you for agreeing to meet us.’
‘I recall both of you and I’m intrigued to know why you wish to meet me. This is my friend Simon de Pointz.’
Neither man seemed put out by the presence of a Franciscan friar. ‘Father de Pointz,’ said Tomkins, ‘an honour.’
‘Thank you,’ replied Simon. ‘Do sit down. Merkin will see that we are not disturbed.’
‘I will, sirs,’ said Silas, making for the door. Outside, he would climb the narrow twisting staircase which led up to the gallery, from where he would be able to watch and listen.
When the two men had sat, Thomas took charge. ‘Now, gentlemen, you have asked for this meeting. Tell us what it is you wish to discuss.’
‘Before I do, Master Hill,’ replied Smithson, ‘be assured that we are unarmed and mean you no harm.’ Thomas nodded. ‘We asked to meet you because we heard that you have been looking for Francis Fayne.’
‘And where did you hear that?’
‘You visited the Crown and, er, certain other places. News gets around.’
‘Very well, I have been searching for Fayne. What of it?’
‘We too would like to find him, and we had in mind a joining of forces.’
‘Why do you wish to find him?’
This time, Tomkins answered. ‘Fayne owes us money.’
‘Money? Is that all?’ asked Simon.
‘No. The man is a coward. He persuaded Colonel Pinchbeck that he should take his troop on a scouting mission on the way to Newbury, on the pretext of making sure the enemy had not set any traps. They arrived after the battle had ended, claiming to have been delayed by a skirmish but in truth having spent the day at rest.’
‘That is a most serious accusation,’ said Simon. ‘If proved, he would hang.’
‘He would, and he would deserve to. When good men are giving their lives for what they believe in, cowardice cannot be condoned.’
‘I was at Newbury and saw Fayne arrive in the town. He did not look as if he had been in a skirmish, let alone a battle.’
‘I am ashamed to admit that I know the man,’ said Smithson.
‘Is this why he has disappeared?’
‘We think not. He cannot know that one of his men has let slip the truth. We think there must be more to it.’
‘What?’
‘We wondered, as you have been looking for him, if you might know the answer to that question.’
Thomas and Simon exchanged glances. Simon nodded, and Thomas said, ‘We know that he was involved in the rape and murder of Lady Romilly, a lady-in-waiting to the queen.’
Both captains looked shocked. ‘We heard about this murder, but we had no idea that Fayne was involved,’ said Tomkins.
‘He was acting on the orders of Tobias Rush, one of his majesty’s closest advisers, now to be arrested for treason.’
‘Then he’s a traitor and a murderer as well as a coward. When he learned that Tobias Rush was to be arrested, he would have feared being exposed. That’s why he’s in hiding.’
‘Might he have left Oxford and gone home?’
‘I doubt it,’ replied Smithson, thoughtfully. ‘Would he make the journey to Yorkshire alone, and how would he explain himself when he got there? His family are well known in the county. They would not tolerate a hint of scandal.’
‘He might have gone elsewhere.’
‘He might, but I sense he is not far away.’
‘And there is little point in looking for him unless we assume you’re right,’ said Simon. ‘The question is, how are we going to find him in time?’
‘In time for what?’
‘Thomas and I must leave Oxford soon.’ Simon covered his mistake smoothly. It would not have done to mention the queen’s departure, however well known it might be.
‘I learned nothing at the Crown or in Magpie Lane,’ pointed out Thomas. ‘Have you gentlemen any ideas?’ Smithson shrugged and Tomkins shook his head. ‘Then allow me to suggest a plan. Fayne is an inveterate gambler. Let us use his weakness to lure him out of hiding.’
‘It would take a big bait to tempt him out of hiding if he’s in fear of being hanged,’ said Tomkins.
‘What do you have in mind?’ asked Smithson.
‘I have in mind a game of hazard for very high stakes and against a very bad opponent.’
‘For that we shall need money and a player we can trust. Not you, Master Hill, as Fayne knows you, or either of us.’
‘No. We shall have to find someone else.’
Simon coughed delicately. ‘Fayne does not know me. May I offer my services?’
‘You, Simon? What do you know about hazard?’ asked Thomas.
‘In the inns and taverns of Norwich, a young man may learn many things.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Why on earth not? Am I too stupid?’
‘No, no, it’s just that …’
‘Try me. Ask me a question.’
‘What is a nick?’
‘A winning throw by the caster.’
‘Main of seven, chance of nine, how much does the caster win if he wins the hand?’
‘One and a half times the stake.’
‘With a main of five, what are the odds on the caster winning?’
‘Just under one in two.’
Thomas sat back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. ‘Father de Pointz, you never cease to astonish me. Praying, fighting and now gambling.’
‘Fighting and gambling only when necessary. Praying I do every day, as should everyone.’
‘What do you think, gentlemen?’ Thomas asked the captains.
‘I think we have the perfect man for the task,’ replied Tomkins, ‘but how are we to entice Fayne into the trap? I doubt he’d show his face in Oxford, even for a thousand guineas.’