Read Online Marbeck and the King-in-Waiting by John Pilkington - Free Book Online Page A

lad works here, who’s a ready informant. He’s heard talk, he says, that Isaac Gow will preach in secret to any who will hear him, this very night. The location is a wood outside the town.’
    â€˜He got here quickly,’ Marbeck observed, in some surprise.
    â€˜So it would appear. My young friend doesn’t know where Gow and his followers lodge – they’re not in any of the inns, needless to say. But he’s preached here before, it seems, and it will likely be at the same spot. Hence …’
    â€˜Hence, I’ll have a chance to speak with Henry again,’ Marbeck finished.
    â€˜I thought it would content you,’ Poyns said. ‘Though I won’t accompany you to hear Gow prate – he makes my hackles rise.’ He tipped his mug, peering into it. ‘Ah, I seem to be empty …’
    With a sigh, Marbeck looked round for the drawer.
    But that evening, having been about the town through the afternoon, he returned to their hired chamber disappointed, to find Poyns sprawled on one of the beds.
    â€˜Gow’s nowhere to be found,’ he said, sinking on to the other bed. ‘Your informant may not be so reliable after all. Nobody I spoke to knew of any meeting in a wood.’ He sighed. ‘Tomorrow I’ll venture further afield, find out what I can …’
    But his only reply was a grunt; Poyns was asleep.
    Saturday, the last one of March, dawned grey once again. Marbeck rose early leaving his friend abed, and after a breakfast of bread and porridge ventured out to the stables. Having saddled Cobb he rode from the town, across the bridge into Godmanchester. Then on an impulse, he decided to continue south towards St Neots.
    Two days ago Robert Carey had raced northwards along this highway, carrying news of the Queen’s death. With luck the man might reach Edinburgh in another day, and take word to James Stuart at the palace of Holyrood. Thinking over the events, Marbeck couldn’t avoid a sense of foreboding. If there were indeed people who sought to forestall the accession of the King of Scots, now was their hour. He was pondering the matter as he approached the tiny hamlet of Offord, perhaps four miles from Huntingdon. There was a horse-trough by the roadside, so he dismounted to let Cobb drink … then he glanced across the broad river, and gave a start.
    In a meadow beside a copse, a dozen mules stood in a huddle.
    Instinctively Marbeck turned his back and moved behind the horse. Beyond the small herd he had glimpsed a tent, and figures moving. He seemed to have stumbled upon Gow’s party, but for the moment he was unsure what to do. The notion of confronting Henry Scroop here and now seemed unwise – but he could at least keep the group under surveillance. Raising his head above Cobb’s saddle, he gazed across the river again. There was no mistake: they were the same men he had seen at Gogmagog. He saw no sign of Henry, but had no doubt he was there. So, the horse having drunk his fill, he took up the reins, mounted quickly and rode back to Huntingdon.
    A long day of waiting followed, and by the time evening drew in he was tense. During the day Poyns too had ventured out to gather news. Being unknown to Gow and his company, he had even ridden down to Offord and, finding them encamped where Marbeck had told him, made bold to observe them. From local villagers he had learned that Gow would preach this night near Godmanchester, so that townspeople from Huntingdon could easily attend. There was a wood to the west; people should look for torches that would light the way.
    â€˜Have you formed a strategy?’ he asked Marbeck. They were in their chamber after supper.
    â€˜Several,’ Marbeck replied, ‘all of which I’ve since discounted. I’ll see how the land lies, and pick my moment.’
    â€˜And if young Master Scroop won’t listen to you, what do you intend? Dragging him away by