Brewer's Tale, The (84 page)

Most importantly, it had access to a clean water supply. There was also a nearby market and it was not too far from the river and a number of docks. My intention to petition the king for a licence to export to Flanders and other parts of Europe would be a priority.

Its position, within London's walls, meant I'd have to adhere strictly to the laws that bound those inside. Now I understood why Master Hamme was offering it to me, and so cheaply. Would I have to make a choice between ale and beer? Would the Mystery allow me to brew both? Apart from the ale-conners and the tax, I'd managed to make my own rules so far. Living and working in London would change that. Having Roland le Bold as our bishop did as well. It was a case of the lesser of two evils.

When I broached my concerns about brewing ale and beer, which broke the rules of the Mystery, Master Hamme didn't contradict me. ‘Aye, mistress, but those who make these rules be a-changing annually. Furthermore, you're only breaking rules if you get caught. I won't be a-telling if you don't.' He winked. ‘You'll find the outbreak of pestilence changed many things.'

With a discretion I hadn't expected from him, Master Hamme left us alone for a while. After wandering through the building again, we gathered in the brewery.

‘Well?' I asked.

Alyson, Captain Stoyan and Adam looked at each other. Adam was pale and tired. It was his first big outing since his illness and though he was enjoying himself immensely, it was evident he needed to sit down.

‘Adam?' I asked when no-one spoke.

‘I've looked at the ledgers, Anna, and if they are true, this brewery did well. Not as well as you're doing now, but it didn't have C… Crown trade.' His lips twisted and though he tried to continue, no sound came. Raising his withered arm as high as he could, he gave the equivalent of a shrug. ‘If you leave The Sw… Swanne, you could not do better than here.'

I turned to Alyson. ‘I agree,' she said. With hands on hips, she gazed around. ‘There's potential here, Anna, and not just for a brewery, but to offer accommodation, food as well, attract good quality clients. I like it.' She jerked her chin towards the stairs. ‘I like him.'

‘And captain, what do you think?'

‘If they won't say it, I will. I think anything that gets you out from under le Bold's nose is good. I also think it will be easy to export from here. The docks are solid, the water deep, the storage excellent.
Ja
. It's good.'

Everything they said confirmed my feelings.

‘Very well, let's begin negotiations.'

It didn't take long to settle on a price and conditions. Once I started production, I would be invited to join the Mystery. Making arrangements to sign a lease and to begin moving in July, we said farewell to Master Hamme and rowed back to Bankside.

Alyson and the captain chattered excitedly, while I sat with Adam, watching the river slide beneath us, enjoying the roll of the water, the spray that occasionally struck our warm faces. Above us, gulls soared on the thermals, cawing to each other, their white plumage gleaming in the rose-gold of the sky, turning them into giant butterflies.

I thought back over the afternoon, and though I sent prayers to the Lord and His Mother, I also sent some to the crones. For what I didn't tell the others was that as I entered the brewery, I spied my old women squatting in the corners as if they'd spent their entire existence there. Grinning wickedly, they licked their parched lips, letting me know that they were thirsty and it was my brew they were waiting for.

I could not wait to get back to The Swanne, to share the news with Betje, Harry and the twins. I would write to Leander and Tobias as well. Knowing I'd be leaving Southwark and the sphere of Roland le Bold would, I prayed, offer the peace of mind we all deserved.

Do not the church fathers warn of invoking the devil's name lest you summon him? Though I didn't utter it, my thoughts appeared to beckon the one person I least wanted to set eyes upon. The person whose presence still had the power to make me tremble, to doubt my resolutions and those of others. As we pulled into the dock and Captain Stoyan and Alyson tied off the barge and anchored her, there he was, Bishop Roland le Bold. Surrounded by cronies, including Master Fynk, he halted at the end of the dock and watched us disembark.

Noting the swagger in Master Fynk's steps, the arrogant set of his chin, everything became clear. I had believed he was acting of his own volition, to punish Alyson and me for our defiance and Sir Leander's intervention, but now I understood he was simply following orders. Those of Roland le Bold.

Why? Hadn't Roland said he would only seek to ruin me if I revealed the truth? How could he possibly know of my conversations with my friends at The Swanne, with Leander? He didn't. They made no difference.

Alyson linked her arm through mine. Clutching his walking stick tightly, Adam took my other arm while Captain Stoyan led our group. Courageous, we crossed the dock as if we had not a care in the world.

Pausing where the bishop stood, giving blessings and receiving them in return, we waited our turn to offer obeisance. To do otherwise would be ill-mannered and almost heretical. I would give him no cause for complaint.

Accepting our reverence, he retracted his hand and smiled.

‘God give you good day, Mistress Anna,' he said unctuously.

‘And you too, your grace.'

‘Pleasant day for the river, is it not?'

‘Most pleasant.' I gave a curtsey and sought to pass. His hand flashed out and held my forearm. Alyson was rudely shoved out of the way. She made a noise of protest but fell silent when a guard lowered his pike in her direction and snarled.

‘You wouldn't be seeking to leave, would you?' said Roland, so softly only Adam and I could hear.

My eyes widened.
How did he know?

‘Because, in order to leave my manor, my jurisdiction, you must seek permission. Mine. Failing to do so incurs penalties, harsh ones and steep fines — enough to make most people paupers. I'm sure you wouldn't want that, would you?'

‘Nay, your grace. I would not.'

Roland offered another smile and nodded benignly. ‘You see, it's my responsibility to make Southwark strong by enhancing the trades we offer, the skills folk can rely upon, bolster its reputation, especially since licentiousness and ungodliness has stained it so. The pestilence has offered an opportunity for renewal that I will not let slip past. A brewer who has Crown trade is a blessing, is it not? And did not the good Lord say we should share our blessings? If, God forbid, you were to take your talent away, then my manor, my liberty, would be denied and our reputation suffer. I cannot allow that. I will not.' Flashing those perfect teeth, he gave a wave of dismissal, turning and throwing coins towards a gaggle of urchins who leapt upon them. Bowing his head, he continued walking along the river. ‘God give you a good night,' he called over his silk-clad shoulder.

It was like a blow to the stomach and I doubled over. Adam strove to hold me upright and Alyson ran to my side. They helped me to a rock, where I slumped. ‘Is what he said true? Do I need
his
permission to leave?'

Shielding her eyes with her hand, Alyson watched the bishop greeting locals. Captain Stoyan and Adam followed her gaze. I did not.

‘If it's not true today, there'll be notice it's so by the end of the week. If there's one thing I've learned about your bishop, Anna, he won't be thwarted. And if he thinks he has been, his punishment is swift.'

‘And he gets others to mete it out,' said Adam.

‘Master Fynk?'

‘Exactly.'

Alyson lowered her hand. ‘You need to watch yourself, chick.'

I held my emotions in check. ‘Aye. We all do.'

THE SWANNE

Late June

The year of Our Lord 1408 in the ninth year of the reign of Henry IV

P
erhaps I was a fool to ignore Roland's warning, but I did. Without flaunting it, plans to move to Cornhill Street proceeded apace. We told only Betje, Harry, Emma and Constance, the latter two being sworn to secrecy. The remainder of the women, Master atte Place, Ralph, Thomas, Golda and Rose and the tradesmen and women with whom we dealt regularly knew nothing of our intentions. Nor did the clients.

Or so we thought.

In the meantime, we continued to brew, despite Roland's efforts through Master Fynk to prevent us meeting our orders and being blacklisted as a consequence. Two more brews were tipped into the Thames and Alyson, who protested loudly and scornfully, and accused Master Fynk of being a puppet who merely let a bishop pull his strings, was heavily fined and sentenced to being shackled in the pillory on the High Street for being a scold.

Master Fynk had underestimated her popularity. Though he ordered a full kilderkin of ale to be tipped over her, it was a very warm day and Alyson thanked good Master Fynk for cooling her passions. A crowd gathered, most clutching rotting fruit, eggs and dung. Listening to Master Fynk list Alyson's crimes, there was some discontented mumbling and glances at Bishop le Bold, who sat upon a chair watching proceedings. It was one thing to make mockery of a baker who put ground stone in his bread, or a regrateresse who bought up ale and waited until it was in such short supply she could sell it on at inflated prices, but this was different. Alyson was regarded as an honest woman — both in her dealings in the bathhouse and in the brewery. None among those present had cause to complain about what she served. Why, hadn't her brewer earned Crown trade? Reluctant to hurl objects let alone abuse, people muttered and hovered. Master Fynk soon tired of waiting and, after flinging some mud and insults of his own, sensed the temper of the crowd didn't favour him. As soon as he saw the languid wave of the bishop's wrist, he ordered her released. By the time Captain Stoyan, Adam and I helped Alyson from the pillory, the constable whispering apologies, the bishop and Master Fynk had gone.

Regardless of the obstacles thrown our way — including the news that Master Fynk had been appointed sheriff of our borough — we climbed them. Exhausted, burning at the injustices inflicted upon us, we suffered it all quietly because we knew we wouldn't have to endure much longer. Once the king's order for summer was complete, we would begin to pack and then, in the last week of July, move across the river.

I wrote to Leander every other day as he'd requested, keeping him informed of what was happening, though I spared him some of the more unjust and mortifying details. There was little point angering him when there was nothing he could do.

Much to my surprise, Leander's letters weren't full of admonition and advice as I half-anticipated. On the contrary, they reinforced that soon le Bold would no longer concern me. Leander wrote mostly about the king's failing health and how even a proposed journey to Windsor by horseback had tired him so much, he opted to repair to his barge for most of the trip. Queen Joan was concerned and remained by his side as, for the time being, Leander would as well. The good news was that the king intended a visit to his trusted confidant and friend Archbishop Arundel, who lived upriver in Mortlake Manor.