The Gypsy Crown (8 page)

N
ONSUCH
P
ARK
, S
URREY
, E
NGLAND

13th August 1658

E
milia woke and looked about her. At first she did not know where she was. Then her eyes identified the strange shapes of the furniture, and the black hump of the sleeping bear silhouetted against the glowing coals. Memory rushed back upon her. She pressed her hands against her chest, feeling the round shape of the coin cutting into her skin.

It was not yet dawn. She could not hear any birds, and the shuttered window was not leaking any light. She leant over and laid her hand on Luka, who slept on the sofa beside her. ‘Wake up,' she whispered.

Luka was awake at once. ‘Mmmmf,' he muttered. ‘What is it?'

‘Time to go,' Emilia said.

‘It's morning?'

‘Almost. But it'd be better if we tried to get through Sutton before everyone's about. We don't want anyone to see us and report us to that Fishface.'

‘Aye. All right.' Luka stretched and yawned. ‘Ouch, I'm stiff! I'd have been better off on the floor, where at least I could have stretched out.'

‘Except it's so dusty.' Emilia felt her skirt, which was still a little damp in the folds, and then pulled it on.

‘Too true. Is there anything left to eat in the bag? I'm starving!'

‘A couple of potatoes, a heel of bread and some old cheese is all,' Emilia reported.

Luka sighed. ‘Chuck me the bread and cheese and I'll toast them on the fire,' he said. ‘I wish we had some ale. I'm so thirsty.'

‘Me too. We'll get a drink from the pump in the kitchen on our way out. I feel really grimy too. I'd love a wash. I wish there was a stream so I could have a good scrub.'

‘Maybe Sweetheart will catch us some more fish if we find a stream,' Luka said. ‘Really, she's a very useful bear.'

‘If a little hard to hide,' Emilia retorted.

Luka had cut the bread open and shoved the cheese inside, then skewered it on the end of the poker. Now he crouched before the coals, turning the poker about so the cheese would melt inside. He turned and looked up at Emilia, his tousled curls hanging on his forehead.

‘Past Sutton there's the royal forest,' he said. ‘Would we be better cutting through that than going by the road?'

‘It's not the royal forest any more,' Emilia said. ‘It belongs to one of Old Ironsides' cronies.'

‘So does that mean there'd not be any royal foresters any more?' Luka asked.

‘I don't know. Maybe. Hunting's been banned, remember.'

‘So if we cut through the forest, we'd be less likely to be seen.'

‘But it'd be slower.'

‘This is the same argument we had yesterday, only now we're on different sides,' Luka grinned. ‘Here, have some bread and cheese. Watch out, it's hot!'

Emilia blew on it and gingerly nibbled at its edge. The melted cheese burnt her mouth, but she was so hungry she did not care. She gave some to Rollo, who swallowed it whole then begged for more. Sweetheart moaned, and Luka gave her some of his, which was gone in seconds.

‘We need to get some more food,' Luka said, frowning. ‘The animals are hungry.'

‘Maybe I'll catch us a rabbit in the forest,' Emilia said, ‘and we'll set Sweetheart to fish for us again.'

They had packed up last night before going to sleep, so that all they had to do was put on their outer clothes and pick up the bag. Luka had managed to tie the pan to it with a bit of old string. It clanked as he swung the bag onto his shoulder. He had also packed the ladle and the old knife that he had used to chop up the fish, plus a few other oddments he had found in the kitchen which he thought might come in useful.

‘It's not like anyone's using them,' he had said rather defensively. ‘They're just rusting away here.'

Emilia had not said anything.

Now she covered up the furniture with the old dustsheets and doused the fire with the last of the water in the jug. Seeing the mess of footprints on the floor, she pursed up her lips and tried to sweep them away with a cloth, but it raised so much dust she coughed and choked and had to give up. They went through the silent, echoing house, Alida's hooves clip-clopping loudly on the flagstones, and locked the kitchen door behind them, hiding the key on the scullery sill again.

The sky was turning grey to the east, but they still needed their lantern to see their way through the gardens. The rain had blown over, but all was dank and wet, and Emilia's feet were soon freezing again. They squeezed out through the gap in the hedge and went on down the road, Emilia riding Alida once more.

All was quiet in the village of Sutton. The Cock Inn was dark and shuttered, with only one lantern hanging above the door. As they went by, they looked up and down the crossroads, but there was no sign of any black coach drawn by four black horses, or of any vehicle at all. Sighing in relief, they hurried on.

A mile or so past Sutton, forest closed in around the road. The children were glad of this, for the sun was almost up and smoke was beginning to wisp up from the cottages in the fields. Once the forests had been well tended, with the bracken and undergrowth cleared away to reduce the risk of fire in the summer and also to leave room for hunting. Nonsuch Park had been a favoured hunting ground for the royal family for years, but since hunting had been banned by Parliament, most of the forests had been cut down for timber, or allowed to grow choked with bramble and weeds.

Along the eastern side of the road ran a high wall of red Tudor brick. Beyond the wall could be seen a few treetops and then, in the distance, the grand towers of Nonsuch Palace. Both children were very curious indeed to see it, for it was said there was no house to equal it in all England. But the wall was too high, and there were no trees growing close to it that they could scale. Luka had to content himself with jumping as high as he could every few paces to try and see over the wall.

A little further on they came to a great pair of iron gates set into the wall. These were much bigger and grander than the gates of Sutton Manor. A shield with a royal coat of arms hung on the gates, which were twelve feet high and topped with sharp points. Luka and Emilia seized the iron bars with their hands and pushed their faces against the gate.

They saw a vast stretch of velvet green lawns, all silvered with dew, and intricate formal gardens of clipped hedges and trees cut in fantastic shapes. Rising above it was an ornate building, with tall octagonal towers, topped with minarets and flying with flags. Every inch of stonework was heavily carved and fretted.

‘Can't be a friend of Old Ironsides' living there then,' Luka said. ‘The Puritans don't believe in pleasure gardens. Only gardens grown in sober toil and godly labour.' He put his hands together and turned his eyes up to heaven.

‘I'd like to explore in there,' Emilia said. ‘It's really pretty.'

‘Come on, no time for dabbling in the dew,' Luka said.

Reluctantly Emilia turned Alida's head away.

Suddenly there was a clamour of barking. Emilia almost jumped out of her skin. Rollo barked back loudly. She and Luka glanced at each other, then scrambled hurriedly away, whistling to Rollo. Looking back, Emilia saw a man in a long coat with about seven dogs on leashes, all straining to be free, hurrying down the drive towards them. She urged Alida into a trot, trying to get around the bend in the road before the man opened the gate.

‘Did he see us?' Luka panted, running alongside Alida, Zizi clinging to his neck. The lantern and the pan clanked together as he ran, and Emilia winced.

‘I don't know,' she hissed, ‘but he's heard us for sure now.'

‘Get off the road, head into the forest,' Luka said. ‘Maybe we'll lose them there.'

They heard the sound of the gate being unlocked and swung open. It was well oiled and opened easily. Then there was the excited baying of dogs on a scent. A horn rang out.

‘Jump up,' Emilia cried. ‘We'll gallop.'

Luka leapt up behind her and Emilia spurred Alida into a gallop. The forest blurred past. In and out of the trees they weaved, Sweetheart running behind them, Luka keeping a tight grip on her chain. Rollo ran ahead, nose to the ground.

Still the dogs bayed behind them. Emilia glanced back. She could see them running full pelt. A man was running with them, shouting and urging them on. They heard his horn again.

‘Why's he chasing us? We did no harm. We were only looking.' Luka's voice came in short bursts. He still had not fully recovered his breath, and Zizi was choking him with her tight grip.

‘Whoever lives there may not be a friend of Old Ironsides, but I'd bet he's a friend of Fishface,' Emilia said.

They looked at each other in horror. The huntsman had seen them. They were a distinctive pair, with their gypsy clothes and their animals. If Pastor Spurgeon was at Nonsuch Palace, they were in trouble indeed.

Emilia bent low over Alida's neck and tried to think. Her mare could not gallop forever, and the hounds were swift. She could perhaps have charmed them into friendship, if she had the time, and a bit of meat about her, but her hands were empty, and the scent of the bear was sending the dogs wild. It was not so long ago that bear-baiting had been one of the most popular sports of the nation. Emilia thought it was one of the few good things Old Ironsides had done, banning bear-baiting. So, their best chance was to lose the dogs. The only way to do that was to go to water, but Emilia did not know these woods. She knew the Hogsmill River, which flowed into the Thames near Kingston, had its source in a spring nearby, but she had no idea if it ran through the forest. All she could do was gallop on and look for some way to escape.

‘Alida, I'm sorry, darling,' she whispered, bending to pat her mare's damp neck. ‘Just a little bit more …'

Alida galloped on.

The very next instant, the path petered out in a thick tangle of blackberry brambles. Emilia dragged Alida's head about and kicked her back the way they had come, frantically searching for a way out. They heard the horn, and the baying of the dogs, and desperately plunged through the undergrowth, heedless of the twigs and briars that scratched their arms and faces.

The dogs cornered them a few seconds later. Alida plunged about, searching for a way out of the entwined branches. The dogs bayed in triumph, and lunged for them. Ferociously Rollo fought back, as Alida reared, trying to keep the hounds away with her hooves. Sweetheart roared. She rose up on her hind paws and swept one dog aside with her massive claws. Yelping, it tumbled head over heels. Another two dogs attacked. One went for her snout, the other for her flank. Sweetheart roared again, in pain and confusion, and fought back. She gave one of the dogs such a blow it tore off half its ear and sent it yelping away into the underbrush, but the other closed its jaws upon her flank and hung on.

Luka, clinging desperately to Emilia's waist as the mare spun and reared, drew the knife from his pack and tried to stab the dog leaping up at them. For a moment all was confusion and noise.

Then the huntsman arrived, breathing heavily, his leathers splashed with mud. He lifted his horn to his lips and gave a mighty blast, then, when his dogs would not come to heel, laid about him with his whip. The hounds slunk back, tails between their legs, growling still.

Emilia and Luka were hot, dishevelled and perilously near tears. The huntsman put away his horn and took out a pistol, which he pointed at them both.

‘The tinker brats,' he said, observing Luka and Emilia with great satisfaction. ‘Parson Spurgeon will be so pleased. When he told me to look out for you, I was not expecting to have you the very next morn.'

Rollo crouched, licking his leg, and Alida was trembling with fear, her ears laid back, her eyes showing a rim of white. Zizi had her face covered with her paws. Behind the huntsman, the dogs growled and slunk about, showing their teeth.

Sweetheart stood up on her hindlegs and lifted her snout high, moaning in distress and bewilderment.

‘Can you control that bear, or will I shoot it now?' the huntsman said.