men are up to the task at hand.”
“They will be, sir, once they’ve got their wind back. It is not an easy thing for infantry to keep up with cavalry.”
“Well, now you have arrived,” interjected Sir Henry. “You can instruct your men, winded or not, to surround the house. It would not do for our rats to leave the trap before we have closed it. There are outbuildings to the rear. Billet your men there. One of them is a smithy. When the house is secure I will require the services of the blacksmith.” He patted the side of the horse’s neck. “He has shaken loose a shoe on that damned forest track. Now, sir, be good enough to deploy your men.”
The captain strode towards his charges, bellowing orders. He was eager for his men to prove themselves to the intimidating outsider. Although he had never had cause to visit these parts before, the reputation of Mr Jonathan Noyce – the most successful priest hunter in all of England – preceded him and, among other things, it was well known that he did not suffer fools gladly. “Half of you spread out across the front of the house,” yelled the captain. “The rest of you close the circle from the rear. If anyone tries to leave the house stop them, but hold your fire for god’s sake. The king requires these people alive.”
He was pleased with his closing remark; it sounded professional. But his orders brought only disorder. Where there had been a suggested lack of military precision there was now chaos, as some of the men collided with their neighbours, while others seemed uncertain whether they were to move or not. Only the intervention of the sergeant and his bill-staff, which was applied liberally to shoulders and backsides, brought the mêlée to order.
As the soldiers moved off at a trot, Noyce reached into a saddlebag and pulled out a parchment, which he unrolled and began to study. “Now, tell me Sir Henry, who is the woman of the house?”
Sir Henry let out a laugh. “Perhaps, sir, we should postpone such niceties until we have completed the business at hand.”
“You mistake my intent Sir Henry,” replied the priest hunter, clearly irritated at the remark. “The house may have a master, but I’ll wager it is ruled by the mistress. Experience has taught that the women are oft times more devout than their spouses, and protective of priests as they are of their own children. Now who is she?”
“Why, she is … she is Habington’s wife of course. I think her name is Mary,” said a cowed Sir Henry. Then, eager to make amends for his gaff, he added, “My sources tell me that her husband is away from the house.”
“Then by God, she has full reign. Mark me sir, she is harbouring our prey. The woman is as much an enemy of the king and the Protestant faith as any of those men sheltered within her walls.”
“True, it is well known to be a Catholic household, but they have never given me any cause to interfere in their affairs. Unlike some, they have not been foolish enough to flaunt their beliefs.”
“What say you to harbouring failed assassins of the king? Cause enough for a little interference, would you not say?”
Sir Henry, let out a snort of indignation. “We should save our trouble and put the place to the torch. Smoke them out or let them roast. The fires of hell will be familiar to them soon enough.”
Noyce rolled up the parchment and slapped it against the palm of a gloved hand. “Do you know what this is?”
“I have no idea of its contents sir, though I would be pleased enough to read them if you felt it would advantage our cause.”
“That will not be required,” said Noyce as he repacked the document. “It is a king’s warrant for the arrest of all of those known or suspected to have taken part in the gunpowder plot, or to have given the traitors aid or succour. It states that the greatest care is to be taken, in servicing said warrant, and is most specific about the importance of collecting any evidence which may prove guilt or innocence.”
“Evidence,” scoffed Sir Henry. “There will be enough of that spilling from their treacherous tongues once they are strapped to the rack.”
“You wish to question the king’s warrant sir? I should not need to explain to a King’s Justice that hard evidence is much preferred to