A Queen's Traitor Read online

  A QUEEN’S TRAITOR

  by Sam Burnell

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  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Dedication

  For Clive Andy Lomas and Elmidena

  Contents

  Character List

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Introduction to the Next Book

  Books in the Series

  Tudor Heresy – short series introduction

  A Queen’s Spy

  A Queen’s Traitor

  A Queen’s Mercenary

  A Queen’s Knight

  A Queen’s Assassin – due for release 2019

  A Queen’s Champion – due for release 2019

  Audio Books

  The Tudor Heresy

  A Queen’s Spy

  A Queen’s Traitor

  The Tudor Mystery Trials Box Set

  Character List

  Fitzwarren Household

  William Fitzwarren - Father of Richard, Robert and Jack

  Eleanor Fitzwarren - William Fitzwarren’s wife

  Robert Fitzwarren – William’s son

  Jack Fitzwarren – William’s son

  Richard Fitzwarren – William’s son

  Harry – Cousin to the Fitzwarren brothers

  Ronan – William’s steward

  Edwin – Servant

  Charles – Servant

  Hal – Stablehand

  Walt – Stablehand

  Garth – Walt’s brother

  The English Court

  Stephen Gardiner – Bishop of Winchester

  Alberto – One of Phillip’s Spanish Courtiers

  Anne Bouchier – Mary’s Lady in waiting

  Anne Bassett – Mary’s Lady in waiting

  Jane Hardwich – Mary’s Lady in waiting

  Wriothesley – Privy Councillor

  Kate Ashley – Elizabeth’s governess

  Travers – Controller of Elizabeth’s household

  York Pilgrims

  Father Andrew – Group leader

  Paul – Pilgrim

  Annie – Paul’s wife

  Sim & Giles – Robbers

  Roger Clement – York resident

  Oswald – Roger Clement’s son

  Geoffrey Clement (lawyer)

  Geoffrey Clement – Lawyer

  Marcus Drover – Employee of Clement

  Bartholomew – Debt collector

  Brom & Stan – Bartholomew’s men

  Marshalsea

  Master Kettering – Controller of Marshalsea

  Ross – A gaoler

  Richard’s Mercenary Band

  Dan – Also a family servant

  Mat

  Froggy Tate

  Conspirators

  Cuthbert Fairfax

  George Sewell

  Thomas Cressworth

  Other Characters

  Francis Ayscough – Sheriff of Lincoln

  Jamie – Priest at Burton Village

  Lizbet – A London prostitute

  Daisy – A London prostitute

  Master Drew – London shop keeper

  Lucy Sharpe – Apothecary

  Nonny – Brothel owner

  Colan – One of Lizbet’s customers

  Hugo Drego – Captain of the Dutch Flower

  Christian Carter – Richard’s friend

  Anne Carter – Christian’s wife

  Coleman- Christian Carter’s steward

  Cuddy – Christian Carter’s servant

  A QUEEN’S TRAITOR

  Dedication

  Contents

  Character List

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter twelve

  Chapter thirteen

  Chapter fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Introduction to The Next Book

  Prologue

  †

  ‘Jack is leaving.’

  It was known by a few, but rumour soon courted everyone’s ears, until they all were aware that they were about to be abandoned, leaderless. Some cared, some sneered, some worried about the future, but most were indifferent.

  Since Richard’s death Jack had existed in a state of melancholy. His nerves were raw; a passionate and pleasant nature had now twisted into a temper fuelled with incoherent rage. His was a palpable grief, worsened by the feeling of utter dejection that had been his brother’s final gift. That he had left Jack - and the world - for another, was too abhorrent to consider. Whilst the men at Burton felt leaderless and looked to the future with concern, Jack was adrift. The only person who could have reached out to still his destructive passage was dead. Jack listened to no-one.

  ‘Jack is going today.’

  It was said amongst the men, quietly and they considered the news. Would he pay them? Would he come back? Would he say anything at all? They pressed the only person who had any link at all with Jack, and they hoped for some answers. Dan, however, was reluctant to face him again. He was only too well aware of his state of mind, and didn’t at all relish yet another confrontation. He’d tried; there was little more he could do. But they pressed him further, and eventually he gave in and went in search of Jack.

  †

  He knocked, opened the door and received the reply he expected. “Get out.”

  Breathing deeply, Dan squared his shoulders and strode into the room with purpose.

  “Not this time Jack. The men have sent me. They have a right to know what is going to happen,” he said bluntly.

  Jack sat in the window embrasure in his room, ignoring him, his eyes unfocussed, lost in the distance. He didn’t want to talk to Dan or to anyone.

  “You need to let them know what we are going to do. You can’t sit in here forever.” Dan crossed the room and placed a hard, sinewy grip on Jack’s shoulder, forcing him to look at him. This time he’d get an answer.

  Jack twisted away. Springing to his feet he faced Dan; his eyes cold and mouth set in a hard line. “Get out.”

  “You owe them an answer. Jack, you know you do.” Dan was prepared for a fight now and watched the other man carefully.

  “I don’t have the contacts Richard had, what do you want me to do?” Jack was breathing deeply. “Just get out.”

  “Not this time. There must be something you can do? You can’t just throw it all away for nothing!” Dan argued, keeping his eyes firmly on Jack. He could sense that the man’s temper was about to break.

  “If we stay, they will drag us before the next Assize as sure as anything: we were Richard’s men. He was a bloody traitor Dan, a traitor to the Crown! Like it or not he was, and we are tarred with it as well. Do you really think they are going to le
ave a little nest of treasonous sinners to their own devices? Really?” Jack was shouting now.

  “Well, you’ll just have to think of something,” Dan was not having any of it, his next words adding to Jack’s misery, “The Master would have.”

  They were merely words, but the blow they delivered was a physical one. “Christ Dan,” Jack had gone pale, “I’m not him am I? As you keep reminding me. I don’t have his connections, I was not privy to his thoughts and I don’t know what he would have done any more than you do. I am going to get my backside out of here before it gets dragged out for me and I get my neck stretched. And if you don’t want to end up swinging from a rope you’ll do the bloody same.”

  “He left you all this,” Dan flung his arms wide, “you can’t just throw it all away for nothing.”

  Jack’s temper snapped. A moment later he had a poniard in his hand, “He threw it away, he didn’t care what happened to any of this, or any of us.”

  Dan’s eyes moved between the blade and Jack’s face, and he took a precautionary step back before he deliberately delivered the words he knew Jack didn’t want to hear, “He didn’t care about you? Is that what you think?”

  The blade was still, July sun sparking from the tempered steel.

  “He cared for her more than any of us. More even, than he cared for himself,” Jack swallowed hard, he’d not meant to vocalise that thought.

  “He cared more for her than for you, that’s the crux of it isn’t it?” Dan accused.

  Jack didn’t reply: faced with the truth he couldn’t.

  “Put that away Jack, for God’s sake, there’s been enough bloodshed already. You need to decide what we are going to do next,” Dan advised. He watched Jack’s face and saw the anger turning to pain. A moment later, Jack slammed the knife back into its sheath.

  “Damn you, I’m leaving here. I’ll not stay for more of this. Get out of my way,” raged Jack, his voice hoarse.

  “You can’t just leave!” Dan continued to argue, bringing the argument right back to the start again.

  “Just watch me, you can stop here and do what the hell you like.” Blood was pounding in his head, his throat was tight, he knew he couldn’t take any more of this, and, as it was, his decision had been made for him when Mat suddenly burst through the door.

  “There are three men here from Lincoln,” Mat glanced between the two men. He could sense the tension in the room, “they want you, Jack.”

  “Are they at the gates?” Dan questioned, his attention drawn by necessity to the newcomer.

  “No, they are in the hall,” Mat blurted, still holding the door open behind him.

  “What!” Jack exclaimed in disbelief, pausing in the act of reaching for his sword belt. “When did we stop bothering with closed gates?”

  “Sorry, the men didn’t think,” Mat apologised.

  Jack swore this was his fault. The gates would never have been left to stand open while Richard was alive. The leather belt tight, he rammed a short blade into a wrist guard and pulled his sleeve back down to conceal it.

  It seemed an end had come, and Jack welcomed it. “Right then, shall we greet our guests?” Jack squared his shoulders and pushed brutally past Mat and Dan, leaving them to catch up with him. It was a short corridor that led onto the open stairs to the hall. He dropped down the steps easily, and as Mat had said, there were indeed three of them watching his approach carefully.

  Jack smiled broadly, “Gentlemen, how can I help?”

  “I’m Nicholas Norton. We’ve come from the Sheriff, he’d like for you to come with us,” it was the tallest man who spoke. His face was impassive and his voice calm, which was at odds with the nervous faces of his companions.

  “That’s good,” Jack replied quickly, still smiling. “I had a mind to see Sir Ayscough as it happens.” Then, calling over his shoulder. “Dan, get my horse ready.”

  “We can ride to Lincoln together,” Norton suggested. He had been told that he’d know Jack Fitzwarren when he found him, and they had not been wrong. The man’s hair marked him out. Bright burnished yellow, falling to his shoulders, it framed a fair-skinned face with ice cold blue eyes. Ayscough had branded the man a fool. Norton looking at Jack Fitzwarren doubted very much that this was the case. Confident, well built, and wearing a sword-belt that spoke of use; Norton knew he should not underestimate the man.

  The incumbent Sheriff of Lincoln was one Sir Francis Ayscough. Jack had already met him when he had negotiated the deal to trade his brother for the manor and the liberty of himself and the men. Ayscough had made promises that Jack could retain Burton, but he knew perfectly well that this was likely to be reneged upon.

  Had he known it, Ayscough actually owned land that bordered onto the woodland surrounding the small manor at Burton, and he had every intention of extending his Lincolnshire landholding. With Jack gone he could easily, and legally, disperse his men to procure the place for himself. What information he had about Jack came mainly from Robert and he cast the man as a simpleton who had inherited Burton upon the death of Richard: he seemed to think the man had neither wit nor sense. So it had been with little worry that Ayscough had sent three of his men to summon Jack to his office in Lincoln.

  †

  ‘Think! Damn you’. Jack silently cursed himself. It was only half an hour’s ride to Lincoln and once there he knew he’d lose his liberty or worse. If he had acted against Ayscough’s men at Burton, every one of his men there would have been branded with the crime. At least this way there would only be himself, and Jack cared little anymore. Analysing it he supposed he would prefer a quicker end, rather than a filthy one entombed in Lincoln’s gaol until the day arrived to have his death delivered at the end of a choking rope.

  There were three of them and all looked more than capable. These were poor odds but Jack was going to take them. He drew his horse a pace or so back so she neared the back of the pack: he knew there was meadow on the left soon and a break in the trees. There was little chance he could outrun Ayscough’s men, but if he could put a little space between them he could turn back and bring the fight to them on his own terms. At the moment he was too close: if he drew his sword now he would easily be hacked from his mount.

  At this point the road to Lincoln was still enclosed on both sides by trees. The three riders waiting impatiently on the road ahead were obscured from view until Jack rode around the bend. One of Ayscough’s men riding on the outside saw them first and stiffened in the saddle, shouting, “This looks like trouble.”

  Trouble it was. Dan, Mat and Froggy Tate sat astride sweating horses blocking the road. Jack could not hide his smile. The officer who had spoken wheeled his horse round to cut Jack off from his men, the other two closed ranks as well. There was a resonating hiss as the men drew their swords. Jack also had steel in his hand but his route was blocked.

  “What do we do?” Mat asked, holding his horse next to Dan’s. “If we ride in they’ll kill him.”

  “And if we don’t they will anyway,” Dan shot back. “Jack can look after himself. He’ll have to, come on.” He pressed his heels into the horse’s side and asked the panting mare for one last short gallop.

  They saw them coming and it split the group. Nicholas Norton hauled on his reins, pulling his mount next to Jack. The reaction was instinctive, Jack heeled the mare round. She spun and her hindquarters crashed into the side of the other horse, momentarily pinning Norton’s leg between the two horses. It was long enough for Jack to grab a handful of the man’s jacket.

  Pushing his horse further back he sought to pull him from his saddle. If the other rider’s horse had not at that moment reared he would have succeeded. Unseated from the vertical horse, and dragged as well by the man behind him, Norton cannoned into Jack dismounting them both. Training, kept both men’s blades in their hands as they fell.

  “Jesus.” Jack swore. As he landed heavily on his left shoulder, his right leg took a glancing blow from one of his mare’s rear hooves as she swung to bite the re
aring horse. In the moment of the fight his mind ignored the pain. Before he had stopped falling he was already trying to get to his feet. His assailant fared little better, and rolled over twice from the force of the fall. Jack was righted and on his feet a second before him.

  Jack offered Norton no quarter, his blade aimed to kill, the leading edge set on a path for the other’s head. A defensive up thrust forced it away, the lethal blade only inches above the exposed head. Breathing hard, and using his body’s weight to add speed to the sword, the point of the other’s weapon made for Jack’s exposed chest. Jack easily forced the blade away, but as he stepped back his right foot found a hole in the road. His balance was hopelessly lost.

  Nicholas Norton sneered and took the opportunity he had been given, all of his strength behind a killing blow aimed at Jack’s exposed left side. To stop the blade Jack was forced to hold his sword level, using it two-handed to block the attack. The impact forced his own blade to slice into his left hand where it held the edge. But it gave him an opening. For a moment his Norton’s sword was stopped dead, all the man’s weight held on Jack’s blade. Removing the support meant it was Norton’s turn to stagger.

  You fool, thought Jack. An effective back swing of the blade cut neatly through leather and on into the fleshy shoulder, only to stop when the blade nicked the bone. Within him all the hopeless anger pooled. Withdrawing his blade, the second cut had twice the force behind it and met its mark: the broad blade first sliced neatly away the top of the man’s ear, then buried itself halfway through his skull. Before the dead man’s weight could draw his blade down, a brutal kick sent the body reeling backward, sliding off the blade, to land prone in the road.

  Jack spun around, the noise of the melée behind him. Dan and Mat’s blades were engaged and Froggy was heading towards him, his hand wrapped around the reins of Jack’s horse. Drawing level, he threw them at Jack who, without a moment’s hesitation, flung himself back in the saddle.