‘I wish that we could have stayed in Canterbury,’ he said.
‘The city was not ready for us, Dick.’
‘The open road frightens me.’
‘When you have all your friends around you?’
‘The others are as worried as me,’ said Honeydew. ‘You’ve given us daggers but what use are they against an avalanche?’
‘No use at all,’ agreed Nicholas, ‘but we are unlikely to be attacked in that way again. If enemies still lurk in wait, they will not use the same device because they know that we will be more circumspect. Besides, the avalanche inflicted no injuries. It merely delayed us for a few hours.’
‘Why do they want to injure us, Nick?’
‘I believe that envy is at work.’
‘Is that reason enough to kill?’
‘They seem to think so.’ He flicked a glance over his shoulder. ‘I spoke to Stephen yesterday. Has he said anything to you?’
‘Yes, he mumbled an apology to me as we left the cathedral.’
‘There’s an end to it then. The others will learn from him.’
‘Stephen thinks the same as me now,’ said Honeydew. ‘We do not like Master Gill as much as Giddy, but we’d hate to lose him. Or to lose anyone else.’
‘We’ll take steps to make sure that it doesn’t happen.’
They had gone barely a mile along the Dover Road when Nicholas called a halt beside a winding track. Firethorn brought his horse alongside the leading wagon.
‘Why have we stopped, Nick?’
‘I think that we should turn down there,’ said Nicholas, pointing.
‘But this is the most direct way.’
‘That’s why they’ll be waiting for us somewhere along the route.’
Firethorn unsheathed his sword. ‘I’ll be ready for the rogues.’
‘They’ll not give you the courtesy of a fight. Their strategy is to strike hard when we least expect them before fleeing at speed. They’ll not attack unless they can escape.’
‘Leave the main road and we add pointless miles to the journey.’
‘We also gain a degree of safety.’
‘You puzzle me,’ said Firethorn, sheathing his sword. ‘Last night, I heard you ask the landlord which road we should take to Dover and he named all the villages we’d pass on the way. Why bother to seek that information if it is of no consequence?’
‘But it was of consequence.’
‘In what way?’
‘It misled them,’ explained Nicholas. ‘When I walked back to the Three Tuns last night, I was followed by a man.’
Firethorn was disturbed. ‘Why did you not say?’
‘Because I did not wish to spread alarm. The chances were that he’d slip into the taproom at some point. It was so full with custom that we’d not have picked him out. The man who killed Giddy Mussett bided his time from inside the Blue Anchor, remember. Unbeknown to us, we rubbed shoulders with the assassin in Faversham and may have done so again last night at the Three Tuns.’
‘I’ll rub more than his shoulder!’ vowed Firethorn.
‘That’s why I questioned the landlord so openly.’
‘To throw anyone listening off the scent.’
‘Yes,’ said Nicholas. ‘The conversation that nobody overheard was the one I had in the stables with the wheelwright. He taught me another way to Dover.’
‘Then let’s take it, Nick. Your judgement is sound.’ He gave a chuckle. ‘If they are lying in wait for us on this road, what will they do when we fail to turn up?’
Nicholas smiled. ‘They may become angry.’
It was a perfect place for attack. The bushes that ran along the ridge gave them ample cover. The two men chose a spot that brought them closest to any traffic on the road below. As they lay in the undergrowth, both had loaded muskets at their side. The man with the beard was writhing with impatience.
‘They should have been here hours ago,’ he complained.
‘Perhaps they were delayed,’ said the brawny young man with the scarred face.
‘By what?’
‘Who knows? An accident?’
‘We are their accident,’ growled the bearded man. ‘We’ll stop them for good. Put a couple of musket balls into Nicholas Bracewell and Westfield’s Men will fall apart.’
‘You said that when you killed Giddy Mussett.’
‘Hold your noise!’
There was a long pause. ‘Shall I ride up the road to see if they’re coming?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it would be a waste of time.’ The bearded man hauled himself to his feet and picked up his musket. ‘A plague on them!’ he exclaimed. ‘They tricked us.’
The first thing that they noticed as they approached Dover was its massive fortress. Perched on the top of the hill, it was like a town in itself, well fortified with high walls and solid towers, gazing out fearlessly across the English Channel. Having followed a serpentine route that twisted its way past countless hamlets and farms, Westfield’s Men entered the town from the north east, passing in the very shadow of the castle. From their high eminence, they had a good view of the sheltered harbour below, protected by the Pent, a massive wall built of cliff-chalk, forty feet wide at the top. Dozens of vessels lay in the harbour. A three-masted ship was just setting sail for France. Travellers were milling around a second vessel as they waited to board it.
The castle was an intimidating structure but the steep incline that now confronted them was equally breathtaking. With the sea to their left, they had to descend the long road that curved down to the town itself. Nicholas ordered them to lighten the load by walking down the hill. Only Gill remained in the rear of a wagon. Like the other two drivers, Nicholas led his horses by hand so that he had more control over them. Hoode walked beside him with his donkey braying in fear at the sight of the precipice nearby.
‘I hope they’ll let us play here, Nick,’ he said.
‘There’s no reason to suppose that they will not,’ replied Nicholas. ‘We know that we must perform at least once at the castle.’
‘Yes, but only when Lord Westfield is present. He was adamant about that. We are days ahead of him. He’ll not expect us here this soon.’
‘Then we’ll have to send him word of our arrival.’
‘As soon as we may,’ said Hoode. ‘Where shall we stay?’
‘Sebastian Frant spoke well of the Lion. It has sixteen beds to offer.’
‘Not all may be available.’
‘Then we’ll have to make other arrangements,’ said Nicholas. ‘We’ve been spoilt so far, Edmund. Last time we toured, some of us slept in the stables.’
Dover was a flourishing community, its population swelled by the large numbers of travellers who came to and fro. Twenty sea-going ships made regular voyages to Calais and other ports on the Continent, giving employment to over four hundred sailors and providing the inns around the harbour with plenty of custom. The newcomers were impressed by the size of the crowds but they also noticed a slight air of decay about the town. A number of churches were in ruins and some of the civic buildings had seen better days. The once imposing St Martin Le Grande was so dilapidated that its stone was being pillaged for use in the construction of sea defences.
Westfield’s Men were back in their wagons by the time they turned into the yard at the Lion. The ruse advised by Nicholas had been successful. In choosing an alternative route to Dover, they had avoided any further incidents. It gave them a new confidence. They were delighted that the inn could accommodate them all. While they unloaded their belongings, it was left to Nicholas to obtain a licence to play in the town and to send word to their patron of their early arrival. By the time that the book holder returned, Firethorn was seated in the taproom with Hoode and Gill. None of them could read the expression on Nicholas’s face.