‘Good morrow, Nick,’ began Mussett.
‘Ah,’ said Nicholas. ‘You have awakened at last.’
‘And wished that I had not. I am in such pain.’
‘So are we, Giddy. And the fault is yours. You brought disgrace upon us.’
‘I know,’ admitted Mussett. ‘I owe you a thousand apologies.’
‘They will not atone for the damage you have done,’ said Nicholas pointedly. ‘We rode into the town as one of London’s leading theatre companies and we ride out with our reputation blemished. Instead of remembering us as the players that gave them A Trick To Catch A Chaste Lady and Cupid’s Folly, they will always think of us the troupe with the drunken clown. You were fortunate not to spend the night behind bars.’
‘I was attacked, Nick.’
‘Where?’
‘At the Black Eagle.’
‘Had you been with us at the Star, no harm would have befallen you.’
‘I needed to get away to celebrate.’
‘By getting drunk and picking a fight?’
‘No, Nick,’ said Mussett. ‘I thought to spend an hour with a friend, that is all. Bess is good company. I love you all but I miss the touch of a woman. So it was that I sought Bess out and rescued her from some bearded oaf with groping hands. When I came back downstairs, he was sitting there with friends, calling me foul names and hurling insults that could not be borne. I knocked him from his chair.’
‘In other words, you started the brawl.’
‘His lewd taunts did that.’
‘Your hot temper was to blame, Giddy.’
‘His friends set upon me, all three of them.’
Nicholas turned to him. ‘What encouragement did you give?’
‘None beyond a few remarks.’
‘Taunts and curses, more like.’
‘They did not frighten me, Nick. I had to show them that.’
‘So you provoked them instead,’ said Nicholas. ‘No wonder they assaulted you. If you punch their friend and call them vile names, what do you expect?’
Mussett forced a smile. ‘I expected to win.’
‘You are lucky that you survived, Giddy. Others might have left you for dead or hurled you into the river. And how did they know where you were staying?’ asked Nicholas, eyes back on the road ahead. ‘My guess is that this friend of yours must have told them.’
‘Yes, I think she did. When they stopped kicking me, I heard Bess mention the Star.’ He winced aloud and felt his side. ‘My ribs are wondrous sore this morning.’
‘It’s no more than you deserve,’ said Nicholas coldly.
‘Am I to have no sympathy at all?’
‘It’s reserved for Westfield’s Men. The landlord thought us welcome customers until you were brought in like that. It changed his opinion. Jonathan Jowlett was glad to see the back of us today. I daresay he was relieved that you started the brawl elsewhere and not at the Star Inn.’
‘That bearded rogue was to blame.’
‘No,’ said Nicholas firmly, ‘you were. And it’s not the first time, is it?’
‘It’s the first time since I joined Westfield’s Men.’
‘First and last, Giddy.’
‘I swear it!’
‘Your word is easily given, and just as easily forgotten.’
‘Fists and feet reminded me of that last night,’ said Mussett with contrition. ‘Because I forgot my oath to you, I was justly punished. My face is on fire and my body aches as if a herd of cattle trample over it.’ He put a hand on Nicholas’s arm. ‘Forgive me, Nick. I’ll make amends.’
‘How?’
‘By taking a vow of abstinence that I mean to keep.’
‘That will not wipe away the memory of last night.’
‘Then I’ll do more.’
‘What more is there?’
‘There must be something,’ said Mussett, casting round for a way to regain his approval. ‘Something that will prove to Westfield’s Men how much I value what they did for me. I have it!’ he announced, smacking his knee. ‘I’ll help you to find the killer of Fortunatus Hope. Only I can do that, Nick. If Conway’s Men are involved in any way, I can tell you for sure.’
Nicholas was interested. ‘Go on.’
‘We know that they are in the county and may not be far away.’
‘Sebastian Frant has offered to find out where they are.’
‘When he does,’ said Mussett, desperate to impress, ‘send me off to them. Tobias would hate to see me again but I still have friends among Conway’s Men. One, in particular, owes me a great favour. He has no love for Tobias Fitzgeoffrey. If there is scandal to report, I’ll hear it from him.’
‘We could never trust you enough to let you out of our sight.’
‘Then come with me, Nick. Or give me another companion to watch over me. If you seek the truth about Master Hope’s death, this is the best way to find it.’ He gave a crooked smile. ‘Will this win back your good opinion of me?’
‘No,’ said Nicholas bluntly, ‘but it will prove that you are in earnest.’
Lawrence Firethorn called a halt near a large pond so that they could have a rest and water the horses. Edmund Hoode’s donkey was the first to trot to the edge of the pond, its loud bray scattering the ducks that had been floating around in search of food. Now that the drizzle had abated, the sun peeped grudgingly through the clouds to show the travellers what beautiful countryside they were passing through. Apple orchards stood off to their left. On a farm to their right, pears, plums and cherries were grown. The soil was rich and the climate benevolent. Kent was a truly county of abundance. Like other visitors from London, Westfield’s Men felt that the cows were much larger, the poultry much finer and the sheep much fatter than those raised on the fringes of the capital. Unwilling to leave the Queen’s Head, they were finding that travel had its compensations.
After leading his horse to water, Firethorn had a quiet word with Nicholas.
‘What does he have to say for himself?’ he asked.
‘Giddy is full of penitence.’
‘He was too full of ale last night. There’s nothing penitential about that.’
‘I taxed him with his folly.’
‘What of his injuries?’
‘Good fortune attended him,’ said Nicholas. ‘Nothing was broken, apart from his promise to us, but he’ll be in pain for some time. Giddy is a strong man. Others would not recover so quickly from such a beating.’
‘He’ll get another from me if he lets us down again.’
‘You’ll not lack for helpers.’
Nicholas looked in Mussett’s direction. Squatting at the edge of the water, he was dabbing a wet cloth gingerly on his face. Everyone else had turned away from him. There was no happy banter. It was as if the others were pretending that he was not there.
‘He’ll not play Bedlam in that condition,’ said Firethorn.
‘Nor Rigormortis. Those dances are well beyond him. His legs are black with bruises and make him stagger rather than walk.’
‘Our choice is made for us, Nick. Vincentio’s Revenge, it shall be in Faversham.’
‘Or The Loyal Subject,’ argued Nicholas. ‘It gives him less to learn.’
‘Watch him closely.’
‘I will.’
‘Acquaint him with the degree of my anger,’ said Firethorn.
‘I think he knows that.’
‘Then keep him out of my reach or I’ll not be able to reign in my temper.’
‘That was Giddy’s offence. He was too choleric.’
‘I like drink and women as much as any man,’ confessed Firethorn. ‘And, yes, I can be choleric on occasion. But I’d never let my weaknesses put Westfield’s Men in danger. For that is what he did.’