Read Online The Liberties of London by Gregory House - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gregory House
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and pushed it towards his large friend who’d finally appeared and signaling for him to sit at the bench. Rob, however, ignored the invitation and still stood there looking distinctly worried and twisting the single leather shoe in his callused hands.
“Rob, we won’t solve this on an empty belly. Sit, eat, and tell me the tale from the beginning.” His daemon silently appended ‘again’ to the end of the sentence, but Ned ignored the slight. He’d arrived in the midst of chaos so charitably he allowed for misunderstanding. Reluctantly Rob folded himself onto the bench, though he didn’t let go of the shoe, and after tentative sip of his beer, slowly recounted the immediate past.
“Well Ned, we didn’t know up till half an hour ago. Everything seemed fine, then…then…” Rob shook his head and his explanation stumbled to a halt.
Ned finished his morsel of breakfast and waved his hands in a placating manner. This was going to be easier if everyone remained calm, especially his own impatiently demanding daemon. “All right Rob. Let’s take this a step at a time. What happened say an hour ago?”
Rob gave a snuffling sniff and wiped his face with his sleeve. “The fellows from the Inns were still playing Hazard and Walter was the caster.”
Ned blinked in amazement. What, Walter the innocent lamb was still at it the next day? A nagging reminder from his daemon said that this was old news. Rob had said similar before he’d hurried off to Cromwell. Ned ignored that and instead dwelt on all those damned hours wasted dealing with Meg Black and the useless summons to Westminster. All that time and he could have been siphoning Walter’s purse. Instead others had free rein. Curse his luck. “Ahh, how did he go?”
It was Rob’s turn to look surprised. The young artificer gave a most perplexed frown and rubbed his chin. “Oh yes Walter… you see that’s were it went a bit strange, Ned.”
“Really, how?”
Rob gave an embarrassed cough and fidgeted with the lone shoe on the table. “I was watching him as you’d asked, and Walter appeared to be holding his own most of the night, winning and losing the same as the others. Then after you left this morning, the game changed.”
“How?” Ned’s daemon trembled in dread anticipation.
“For one thing, Walter scooped the pot of six angels in a very fast set of games.”
“What? Walter? Six angels?” Ned tried hard to credit the event, but that was impossible. Walter was the primest, most succulent cony he’d ever seen, a born innocent ready for a fleecing and yet…he won a pool of six angels?
Rob recognized his puzzlement and nodded.
“Yeah, from two shillings to six angels all within a half hour.”
It was Ned’s turn to shake his head in disbelief. How could that happen? Lady Fortuna was known to spread her favours widely but a gain of six angels? He’d never seen the like before. “So what happened then?”
Rob gave one of his despairing shrugs. “As I said earlier, Walter claimed an urgent need for the privy and we thought nothing of it, until some half an hour had past. I went to look for him and found only this.” Rob pushed the forlorn shoe forward.
Ned gave the piece of footwear a thoughtful tap. This situation was highly irregular.
“Was Walter much taken in drink?” That was one possibility, though Ned considered you’d have to be spectacularly drunk to fall into a privy. His daemon appended that falling over tosspot drunks didn’t win six angels at Hazard .
“No, no he wasn’t. I’d have said slightly tipsy, that’s all. Walter walked well enough.”
Ned pinched a lip and cast a wary eye around the common room. The Sign of the Eagle was one of the more reputable taverns in this ward, which was why he’d chosen the place. Unlike some, it wasn’t a sink hole of depravity where masterless men gathered to plot mischief and felony. Their preferred prowling ground on this side of the river was over in
“Rob, we won’t solve this on an empty belly. Sit, eat, and tell me the tale from the beginning.” His daemon silently appended ‘again’ to the end of the sentence, but Ned ignored the slight. He’d arrived in the midst of chaos so charitably he allowed for misunderstanding. Reluctantly Rob folded himself onto the bench, though he didn’t let go of the shoe, and after tentative sip of his beer, slowly recounted the immediate past.
“Well Ned, we didn’t know up till half an hour ago. Everything seemed fine, then…then…” Rob shook his head and his explanation stumbled to a halt.
Ned finished his morsel of breakfast and waved his hands in a placating manner. This was going to be easier if everyone remained calm, especially his own impatiently demanding daemon. “All right Rob. Let’s take this a step at a time. What happened say an hour ago?”
Rob gave a snuffling sniff and wiped his face with his sleeve. “The fellows from the Inns were still playing Hazard and Walter was the caster.”
Ned blinked in amazement. What, Walter the innocent lamb was still at it the next day? A nagging reminder from his daemon said that this was old news. Rob had said similar before he’d hurried off to Cromwell. Ned ignored that and instead dwelt on all those damned hours wasted dealing with Meg Black and the useless summons to Westminster. All that time and he could have been siphoning Walter’s purse. Instead others had free rein. Curse his luck. “Ahh, how did he go?”
It was Rob’s turn to look surprised. The young artificer gave a most perplexed frown and rubbed his chin. “Oh yes Walter… you see that’s were it went a bit strange, Ned.”
“Really, how?”
Rob gave an embarrassed cough and fidgeted with the lone shoe on the table. “I was watching him as you’d asked, and Walter appeared to be holding his own most of the night, winning and losing the same as the others. Then after you left this morning, the game changed.”
“How?” Ned’s daemon trembled in dread anticipation.
“For one thing, Walter scooped the pot of six angels in a very fast set of games.”
“What? Walter? Six angels?” Ned tried hard to credit the event, but that was impossible. Walter was the primest, most succulent cony he’d ever seen, a born innocent ready for a fleecing and yet…he won a pool of six angels?
Rob recognized his puzzlement and nodded.
“Yeah, from two shillings to six angels all within a half hour.”
It was Ned’s turn to shake his head in disbelief. How could that happen? Lady Fortuna was known to spread her favours widely but a gain of six angels? He’d never seen the like before. “So what happened then?”
Rob gave one of his despairing shrugs. “As I said earlier, Walter claimed an urgent need for the privy and we thought nothing of it, until some half an hour had past. I went to look for him and found only this.” Rob pushed the forlorn shoe forward.
Ned gave the piece of footwear a thoughtful tap. This situation was highly irregular.
“Was Walter much taken in drink?” That was one possibility, though Ned considered you’d have to be spectacularly drunk to fall into a privy. His daemon appended that falling over tosspot drunks didn’t win six angels at Hazard .
“No, no he wasn’t. I’d have said slightly tipsy, that’s all. Walter walked well enough.”
Ned pinched a lip and cast a wary eye around the common room. The Sign of the Eagle was one of the more reputable taverns in this ward, which was why he’d chosen the place. Unlike some, it wasn’t a sink hole of depravity where masterless men gathered to plot mischief and felony. Their preferred prowling ground on this side of the river was over in
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