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The Relic Murders(3)

By:Paul Doherty




'It's the best way, Roger. It will keep you out of villainy. I don't want you going into London. I don't want you seeing Miranda. And I don't want you selling medicines. Do you understand?'



I blinked innocently. Benjamin smiled, shaking his head and, taking his spade, began to fill the hole. I stood and watched, fingering that old spearhead in my wallet; already a vague idea was beginning to form but silence is the best counsel to follow in such matters.



We returned to the manor. Benjamin now seemed light-hearted, and the tension between us had dissipated. I decided to relax and enjoy the golden autumn sun. The next day I was supposed to be helping with the early harvest I forget the precise details. Anyway, whilst everyone else was working, I and young Lucy Witherspoon found ourselves on top of a haystack. I was teaching her the principles of mathematics and counting, using the laces across her ample bodice as an exemplar. I had just reached the last lace when I heard Benjamin call my name. I looked over the haystack, whispering at Lucy to stay there with the wine I had brought Benjamin was staring up at me.



'Roger, come down. You look tired. You've been too long under the sun!'



I just ignored him, my flesh already turning cold at the sight of the visitor standing next to him: Doctor Agrippa! I have talked about this creature many a time. Of medium height and cherubic face, Agrippa had twinkling eyes which could, at a drop of a coin, turn iron hard. As usual he was dressed in sepulchral black from head to toe, his jovial face almost hidden by the broad-brimmed hat. Whatever the weather, he always wore a cloak and black leather gloves on his hands so people couldn't see the strange emblems, bloody crosses on each palm. Warlock? Wizard? I don't know. He was Wolsey's familiar. Agrippa claimed to have lived when the legions still strutted across Europe and the Barbarians hadn't yet poured across the great northern rivers. A man who had been in Palestine when Christ our Lord was crucified. Agrippa claimed to have seen the Golden Horde led by Genghis Khan and been present at Constantinople when the gates were breached and the Turks poured in. A man doomed to live for ever! Agrippa had come to England to stop, as he once told me in hushed tones, the river of blood that Henry the Great Beast was about to unleash. Agrippa was very worried by Henry. He called him the Mouldwarp, the Dark Prince prophesied by Merlin who would turn England from the path of righteousness and unleash horrors for which the kingdom would pay for centuries. He was fascinated by me, was our good Doctor, always sidling up to me. I can still recall his strange odour when he was pleased, the most fragrant of perfumes, cloying and rich. When he was angry or sad, the smell changed to that of an empty skillet left over a roaring fire.

Did he live for ever? Ten summers ago I commissioned my good ship The Witherspoon to go a-pirating on the Spanish Main. My captain put in at a port in Virginia, and was sitting in a bottle shop, when in strolled Agrippa. According to my man's description he wasn't a day older. He was accompanied by tribesmen with shaven heads and painted faces. Agrippa explained he had been out west across the great mountain range but he still remembered Old Shallot and asked the captain give me his most tender regards. Only a summer ago, when I was in the Mermaid tavern joking with Ben Jonson and lying fit to burst, I saw a man standing in the doorway looking across at me. He smiled, raised a hand and was gone. I recognised that face immediately. Doctor Agrippa had returned.



Ah well, the passage of time! The crumbling of the flesh!



These things were yet to come. On that golden autumn day, with the sweat like silver pearls on my young body, I just stared at Agrippa and groaned. Dearest Uncle, Cardinal Thomas Wolsey, clad in his purple silk, was about to summon us in to the lair of the Great Beast.



Agrippa must have read my thoughts. He came to the foot of the ladder and stared up at me.



'No, no, Roger,' he whispered in that gentle parson's voice of his. 'You are not for court, my lad. I come to say goodbye to Benjamin. ‘I’ve brought tender messages from his sweet uncle as well as the King's good wishes for both him and you.'



'Bugger off!' I snarled. 'There's mischief afoot, isn't there?'



Agrippa just shook his head. 'Come down, Roger. I've also brought a bottle of red wine from Italy; Falernian to wash the mouth and clear the stomach. And my boys, my retinue, would love to shake the dice.'



His boys! The nicest group of cutthroats you'd ever hope to meet. Villains born and bred. Old Agrippa knew I felt completely at home in their company.



I came down that ladder as quickly as a rat along a pipe. Little Lucy would have to wait a while before 1 finished my lesson in numbers.



Agrippa's rascals were waiting for me in the yard and fell about my neck like long-lost brothers. I drew my dagger and told them to stay away from my purse. They all laughed, slapped me on the back and said what a fine fellow I was and wouldn't I like to play dice? I told them to keep their hands to themselves and that I knew how many chickens we had in the yard. I then joined my master and Agrippa in the solar.