The sun had just set. Ab Siddy [Darryl], Art [Jeff], Baron [Deacon], Elrick [Ian], Roma [Chris], Thomas [Kevin], the Deacon [Shane] and Tess were safely ensconced in the barn in Terryhaven. They were discussing how they'd spend their 16 pounds - the windfall from the glaistig escapade.
Some wanted to buy a bigger boat; they only had the little dory.
"We could get a shallop," said Elrick excitedly.
Others wanted a house, or even land, in Terryhaven.
"I want some cassocks," said the Deacon. "With gold trimmings, as befits a cleric of my standing."
 |
| Caoilainn |
Caoilainn arrived, and made a bee-line to Thomas. She was keen on this marriage. More than him; probably because the marriage would have to take place in the land of the Sidhe. Then he dropped a bombshell.
"I'm married," he said. "To an English girl in London. Who tends goats."
Caoilainn frowned.
"I'm a Lord in England and own vast tracts of land; fertile acreage to run my goats on."
Caoilainn lost all interest in marriage.
Conversation drifted to the Pig Peeker. The Deacon was worried about the thing rotting. Already the skin and flesh of the pig's head was starting to get slimy, and the fat was going rancid. When you held it for any period of time, your hands reeked of sour pork fat afterwards.
He asked Caoilainn if she could contact the puca to ask them if one can preserve the pig's head. That might make it last longer. She would go see and, since they were headed for Corke in the morning, she would write to them c/o Esther in Ye Docks Lookout Inn.
Sun 25-May
 |
| Elrick's dory |
At first light, they left for Corke on the dory.
During the trip, they all had a go at fishing. The only one who caught any fish was Elrick. The rest hauled on board sea weed, old boots, pine cones and water-logged branches.
Ab gave some firewater to the Deacon. Up to his usual alcohol intolerance, he got horribly drunk and then sick and rectally challenged, and Tess refused to clean him. So Elrick rigged up a rope loop, and they dragged the Deacon behind the dory on a the rope until all the foul vomit and diarrhoea was washed off. Then they tied him to the bow until he sobered up.
They arrived outside Corke an hour or so before sunset, and, as usual, Ab stayed by the dory, while the rest entered the city.
Esther was in fine form, and still working at Ye Docks Lookout Inn. She found them a couple of rooms, and updated on the local goss: The Golden Hind fit-out was finished and it would be leaving in a few days time. The witch-finder was in town. The rumours of a Spanish invasion had subsided.
Roma spotted some other pikeys in the inn. They claimed this was their turf and they would not appreciate him performing his skills on their turf. And the other inns of Corke were also manned by other groups travelling folk as well.
Mon 26-May
This was Thomas's first time in Corke, so he found out from Esther where Spider Stacey, the flageolet virtuoso, lived. Thomas went around to this building and was greeted at the door by Spider's wife. Spider was buried two days ago. So much for that. But Spider did have an older son, Dennis, who had also taken up the flageolet. Thomas offered to tutor this boy. The wife was very interested.
"Come back in a few weeks," she said.
The Deacon went to the local seamstress. And ordered six cassocks. She had cleric apparel in stock, so it would only take some light modification to render them suitable for such a man of God as he. So he could pick them up at the end of the day. It would be a pound for the six.
Roma bought an old cowled robe for sixpence, and took it out to Ab. Ab then fashioned a crutch and bound up a leg, so he entered the town in disguise as a one-legged man. This worked fine and hid his face from onlookers. As he walked down the busy main street of Corke, horses shied, stray cats and dogs scattered, chooks squawked and took to the air, and even the flies, that hung around the open sewers, were absent.
Near dusk, the Deacon returned to the seamstress and picked up his new cassocks, and a fancy gold sash belt too.
When the Deacon got back to the inn, Esther had two letters waiting for him. Both neatly sealed in wax, and both in exquisite copper-plate courier font.
Dear Father,
I consulted the Peter the puca. Yes, you can safely pickle the pig's head. Use brine, whisky and vinegar. You can do the eyes as well, and it will still work. But Peter did warn not to use saltpetre nor use lye. Using lye saponifies the fats which has a side-effect of giving the head sentience. You can also boil it, but not the eyes. He does not know of any other techniques.
Your friend in fae, Caoilainn.
And :
Dear Deacon Father O'Reilly,
May the blessings of God the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, and all the glorious company of Heaven be upon you. I hope this letter finds you well. You and your assistant Tess are requested to have luncheon with myself on board the Golden Hind, in Corke docks, at noon tomorrow.
Your eternal servant in God, Bishop John Dee.
Oh dear," said the Deacon. "How'd they know we were in town then?"
"You and your group are rather unique," said Esther philosophically. "And you haven't been going out of your way to remain inconspicuous." She gestured to the cassocks and the golden sash.
The Deacon gave Esther the pig peeker and asked her to pickle it.
Tue 27-May
Elrick returned to the dory worried about it being stolen, because Ab was no longer guarding it. He also had to clean it - there were still stringy bits of the Deacon's vomit and diarrhoea swilling around in the bilge.
 |
| Golden Hind |
The Deacon left just before noon to the Golden Hind.
It was decided to leave Tess back with the group. That way she could relay important information from the Deacon, via the familiar link.
Art asked Esther see if she could source an eye-glass so that he could watch the Deacon go on board the Golden Hind, but she informed him that small hand-held ones will be another five years before they are invented. She noted, too, that Bishop Dee himself had worked on such devices, but they were big things. So Art had to just peer with his squinty eyes.
The Bishop welcomed the Deacon and immediately took him below to the on-board chapel for the Sext church service. After this, they retired to the Bishop's quarters for a luncheon and a chat. It was a slap-up meal with servants and all - the best the Deacon had eaten in ...well, forever.
The Bishop said straight away, "I know of your link to your assistant. Relay to your group that their attempts to leave the city will be all for nought."
The Deacon sent this to Tess who relayed it to the group. And straight away, the party started discussing how they would leave the city and how they would leave the Deacon to his fate if things went bad. Tess, of course, heard all this; so too did the Deacon (via the familiar link the other way). "Those treacherous ingrates" muttered the Deacon. So, out of spite, he kept the Bishop abreast of the plans the party was making to sneak out of town - every scheming step.
The Bishop wanted the group to join the Hind when it was to leave "in a few days" to help in the mission to restore the rightful monarch on the English throne.
"I will think on your kind offer, your grace," said the Deacon. "And speak with the group."
"Yes, you have until tomorrow," said Bishop Dee. "Now, there is someone I should like you to meet, Deacon."
The Bishop took the Deacon through to the forehead quarters of the ship. These were formerly Edward Kelley's quarters, but over the past few weeks they had be reappointed. And reappointed in style! There was gold leaf all over the show, and marble floors even. The whole place was lit by little lights, far too small for a candle even, that the Deacon did wonder how they worked.
In the gorgeous throne room, on a raised dais, was a large golden throne. Upon which sat the queen: Queen Elizabeth Stuart. Dressed in costly robes of the finest make, she no longer looked like a rotting skeleton, nor an emaciated zombie, but a shining twenty-year old girl. With all her charms, but for her eyes - they bore wisdom and worldliness far in excess of her age. She radiated majesty, grace and power. It almost made the air of the room crackle.
Her handmaidens, kneeling either side in velvets and fine linen, were Luca (the ex Spanish sailor) and another girl named Samantha Smith. (This turned out to be gender-reassigned Private Samuel Smith, the soldier in whose face Roma had thrown a handful of magic sand those weeks ago near Baltimore.)
The queen chatted to the Deacon a little. There was no more stuttering nor broken English of the three-day old corpse of the past; she had her full intellect and Elizabethan loquaciousness back again. She mentioned how she was planning to take back the throne of England off that "varlet usurper" James 1st ("he can have Scotland"). She mentioned three names of her main organizers in England. But the Deacon was so over-awed by her awesome aura that he promptly forgot them when he was shown out.
Unbeknownst that they had been betrayed, the group made plans for a hasty exist from Corke. Thomas hired a horse and cart for one shilling and six pence, and loaded it with straw and manure (and extra manure), then headed to Ye Docks Lookout. Here Art, Ab, Roma, Tess, and Baron snuck into the cart, and hid in the messy straw.But at the North Gate, the gate soldiers stopped the cart, and they set to the straw with pitchforks galore. Ab Siddy vanished (with his camouflage) and slipped through the gate, to join Elrick at the dory. Everyone else was discovered and ordered to return to the inn.
Art then made a foolhardy solo attempt to leave the city via an alleged hole in the Water Gate. He had recently learned to swim, so he set forth. But his skills were hopeless, and he ended up fished out of the water by some soldiers who manned the Water Gate.
Despite the fracas in the party, Elrick re-entered Corke and went to the North Inn. He wanted to be in town for his (and Baron's) new armour which was due to be finished tomorrow.
The Deacon arrived back to Ye Docks Lookout Inn and told the party of the request.
"No way," was the majority shout.
No comments:
Post a Comment