'A ship on land, buried near a river,' Blackstock pondered the riddle posed by the map, 'but out of the swing of the sea.' [...]
He moved as the ship swayed, buffeted by the powerful north-easterly wind which raised curtains of misty salt-edged spray. Blackstock looked up once again at the raven's nest on the mast, then around at the men slopping water from the bulwarks. He strained as he always did to hear the music of the ship. Never mind the storm; it was the ship that mattered! Blackstock had been well-taught by the skilled privateers who prowled the Narrow Seas between Dover and Calais, as well as the trade routes to the wine city of Bordeaux and further south to the ports of Spain, or even as he could do now, if he struck north-east the frozen ports of the Baltic. Andit de Bodleck, master and captain of The Soul in Limbo, out of Brabant, had been his principal mentor. Yes, Andit had been the best teacher, despite being captured by two royal cogs of Edward I of England, his ship sunk and the life strangled out of him on a gallows overlooking Goodwin Sands on the eve of Reek Sunday. Blackstock had heard how Bodleck had refused the ministrations of the local parson; the privateer was a self-professed pagan who made offerings to an eerie war goddess called Nenetania.
'Strange old life,' Blackstock mused aloud.
'What is, master?' [...]
Blackstock peered towards the prow ...
'And the other matter?'
Equally low-voiced and without pause, Master Grene answered, 'It has to do with a sum of gold that must be taken to her grace of Suffolk without anyone knowing or even suspecting it's come into England at all [...] When you visit Mistress Blakhall about the outward business, she will give you this gold in coins. You will keep them concealed and take them with you when you leave London, returning up the Thames as you came. No one will think it odd if you pause on the way to visit your cousin at her manor of Ewelme, so near the Thames, to report about the vestments.'
'Why?'
Her question stopped Master Grene. 'Why?' he echoed, as if he hgad expected no question from her, only acceptance.
But simple acceptance had never come easily to her. That had made her early years as a nun difficult, and although she had bettered at it after all this while, she was by no means perfect at it and saw no reason to be so in such things as this, and she asked, 'Why must it be done in secrecy? Isn't it my cousin's money?'
'Of course it is,' Master Grene said. In his surprise he was forgetful to be fully careful of his voice and added for the other nun to overhear, 'You'll not find better Samite for your purpose in London, I promise you.' He dropped his voice again. 'Of course it's hers, come to her from her husband. But there are those who were against him who might lay false claims if they knew of it.'
Given what she knew of Suffolk, Frevisse had doubts about how false their claims might be ...
.
For the first time I was wearing full armour. I felt warm,
comfortable and safe. The weight of the mail was well spread
so it didn't feel too heavy, and I'd been told my body would
get used to the extra weight. Under the layers of cloth,
leather and iron I felt absolutely invincible. The linden shield
added greatly to these feelings.
I must have grown three feet taller while I transformed
from boy to warrior. Now I could take on the whole world.
Single-handed. Only the thrill of Nydam's gentle touch could
beat this.
I hefted my long spear, examining the shining blade by
running a finger along each side. I drew blood. Fifteen inches
of death-dealing power. It could kill with either the point or
the sharpened wings on each side. If the head were snapped
off, it would make a useful sword, while a ball of wood at the
rear balanced the spearhead and could be used as a club
