Read The Portuguese Affair Online

Authors: Ann Swinfen

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Crime, #Mystery, #Thriller & Suspense, #Historical, #Thriller

The Portuguese Affair (13 page)

BOOK: The Portuguese Affair
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I did not speak, but pointed that way and Titus nodded. I realised I could see him now because the cloud had cleared, letting a little fitful moonlight shine down on us. It made it easier for us to see our way, but it also meant anyone looking out from the house would also be able to see us. We began to run softly across the garden, which was laid out in the very formal Spanish style, with a geometric pattern of gravel paths, interspersed with beds of flowers and herbs. We dared not step on the gravel, so we had to make our way awkwardly across the beds, trampling down the plants. It would be all too clear in the morning where we had been.

Halfway across, Titus grabbed my arm and halted me.

‘What’s the matter with you? Are you lame?’

‘Twisted my ankle on the way here.’ I spoke through gritted teeth, for the pain was getting worse and it was a long way back to the ships.

‘Can you climb the wall?’

‘Needs must,’ I said, and set off again.

Somehow we reached the wall at last. I was right. A large bush of yew grew up against the wall, enabling us to reach nearly halfway to the top of the wall by scrambling up its branches. Titus now insisted on going first and I happily gave way. He was not some helpless civilian. As one of Sir Francis’s agents, he would know how to look after himself. When he reached the top of the wall I was already seated in the upper branches of the bush. Without speaking he pointed out hand-holds to me and when I came within reach he grabbed my wrists and hauled me up the last few feet. As we sat on the top of the wall, assessing the far side, a light came on in the house. I tapped his arm. Perhaps we had not been as quiet as we thought, crossing the garden.

‘Jump,’ he said, ‘I’ll break your fall.’ And he jumped down to the ground below the wall.

I dared not risk it. Painfully I began to feel my way down, until I felt him grip me around the waist.

‘Now,’ he breathed.

I slithered down the last few feet and managed to land with my weight on my left foot.

‘Thank you,’ I whispered, disengaging myself and hoping he had not felt the shape of my body too clearly in those few moments. ‘This way.’

‘I know where we are now. This isn’t far from an alley that runs through to my street.’

I let him lead the way, limping along behind. When we reached the street of tailors’ shops, he stopped.

‘There are some things it would be wiser not to leave behind,’ he said. ‘I’m going into my house for a few minutes. You can go on ahead.’

I shook my head. ‘If you can give me something for a bandage, I’ll strap my ankle before we go any further.’

‘Some shirt cloth?’

‘Aye.’

We both laughed. It was relief at having escaped from the citadel, but there was still a long way to go, down through the dark and dangerous streets of the town. When we reached it, we found that Titus’s house had been broken into and stripped of every crumb of food. I realised I was suddenly hungry, for I had eaten nothing since leaving the ship before dawn. He was able to find me some cloth for a bandage and while I strapped my ankle tightly he went upstairs, where I could hear him apparently moving furniture. When he reappeared, he was tucking a small book into the breast of his doublet.

‘My codes,’ he explained. ‘I had them hidden under the floorboards, but once it was noticed I was gone, someone might have come looking.’

I nodded. He had lit a candle so that I could see what I was doing and I now had my first good look at him. He was older than I had realised, well into his late thirties, with some grey just beginning to show in his hair. But he was slender and wiry, and, as I had seen, quite able to climb difficult obstacles.

‘So you’re the young code-breaker,’ he said. ‘I’ve heard of you. Portuguese? That’s how you managed to pass yourself off as Spanish. I’m glad to get out of there. They didn’t only want me to sew uniforms for them. Some awkward questions have been asked, and if they hadn’t been so occupied defending the citadel I was facing interrogation under torture.’

He shuddered.

‘I was watched all the time. I’m not sure I could have got away tonight if it hadn’t been for that fresh attack. Luis was set to keep me under guard.’

‘I thought the attack was by chance,’ I said, ‘but Norreys knew I was coming. Perhaps he intended it as a diversion.’

‘Whether or not, it was timely. I’m sorry I can give you nothing to eat.’

‘Let’s go. The sooner we reach the ships, the better.’

I got up from the stool where I had been sitting to strap my ankle. Testing it gently with my weight, I found the strapping eased it a little. Titus turned and blew out the candle.

‘Why do you think they were suspicious?’ I asked, as we left the house.

He shook his head. ‘I’m not sure. I’ve been wondering if I might have been betrayed. Not here. I am the only agent in this part of Spain. No one knows me here. Could there have been careless talk at Seething Lane?’

I gave him a startled look. ‘I don’t know. But let us discuss this later, once we’re back with the fleet.’

I knew I would be slow, but Titus had found me a tailor’s yard to use as a stick and we began our descent of the streets. I was glad to see that as well as his code book he had equipped himself with a sword. Somehow the lower town seemed less deserted than it did by day. We heard furtive footsteps. Shadowy forms slipped into alleyways as we passed. Once a group of three men barred our way, but I spoke placatingly in Spanish and slowly they drew back, letting us pass, though they remained watching us, so that the hairs of my arms stood up, and I had to force myself not to look back.

At last we reached the harbour. I was sweating with pain, but would not give in to it, not until I could stretch out in my own cabin. It took a long while to rouse a boatman from the cluster of skiffs tied up beside the quay, but at the cost of some grumbling he rowed us out to the
Victory
.

Someone was waiting on deck as we climbed aboard, awkward for me with my strained ankle. The downwash from the riding-light showed a weary Dr Nuñez seated on the bench which Dom Antonio normally occupied when he took the air.

‘Ah, Kit,’ he said, ‘so you are safely come back.’ That was all, but I could read the relief on his face.

‘This is Titus Allanby,’ I said, ‘and if you want perpetual reward for your good deeds in the hereafter, you will persuade one of the cooks to wake up and find us some food.’

I sank down on the bench as the two men bowed and shook hands.

‘Kit has sprained his ankle,’ Titus said, ‘but he has managed to spring me before the trap closed.’

I remember little after that. Some food was found and I suppose I must have eaten it, but at last I was in my cubbyhole, stretched out on my cot, with my painful ankle propped up.

That night I dreamt of fire and darkness and wounded men crying out in English and in Spanish.

 

Chapter Nine

A
s the fruitless siege continued unchecked, I grew restless with impatience. I would never be able to carry out my plan, my own private reason for coming on the expedition. I even thought of going ashore here at Coruña and riding south through Spain, but it was much too far. Besides, I needed to wait until my ankle healed. It was not a bad sprain, but I had not improved it by all the climbing and walking I had done that same night, as Titus Allanby and I escaped from the citadel.

Whatever it cost, I would have to wait until we reached
Portugal. At night, I fretted sleepless in my cramped quarters, kept awake by worry and by the pain in my ankle and in my burned shoulder, which grew fiercer at night. The kind of cupboard, leading from his cabin, that Dr Nuñez had arranged for me to occupy was airless and dark, and increasingly hot as we drew nearer to summer, but I was thankful that I had not been forced to lodge with the men, for it would have been near impossible to maintain my disguise. At first I worried about living in such close proximity to Dr Nuñez, but I managed to keep to my cupboard, using the pisspot in privacy. He never troubled me there.

Intermittently, I slept during those nights moored off Coruña, a sleep troubled by dreams that remained with me by day only as dark and troubling shadows, in which I seemed to be hunting through the squalid alleys of
London for someone . . . Was it Simon? I thought I caught glimpses of him, always turning a corner far ahead, always out of reach. I could not understand why I should be haunted by such a persistent yet meaningless dream.

Titus Allanby was accommodated aboard the
Victory
, sharing a cabin with two of the junior officers. He was accepted by all on board as an Englishman trapped in Coruña and anxious to go home. No mention was made of his assumed occupation as a tailor, nor of his true position as an agent of Walsingham’s secret service. Instead he let it be understood that he was a merchant, and I backed up this impression whenever I had the opportunity. For the most part no one was interested, having more important matters on their minds. Dr Nuñez, of course, realised Titus’s real identity, but he would not reveal the truth. Norreys knew as well. The day after Titus came aboard, Norreys sent for him to be rowed over to the
Nonpareil
, where he questioned him closely about the dispositions of the garrison in the citadel, the strength of their troops, and the supply of arms.

‘I answered him honestly,’ Titus told me when he returned. ‘Any information I could give him that would help his endeavour to take the upper town, but of course he will not succeed.’

We had been granted the use of Dr Nuñez’s cabin for a game of chess, which we were setting out on the table as he spoke.

‘As for any other matters?’ I asked, lining up the chessmen. It was a beautiful set given to Dr Nuñez by one of his grateful patients. Delicately carved from whalebone, the white pieces had been left the natural creamy colour of the bone, the red pieces had been stained with madder. The board was inlaid with matching squares of plain and dyed whalebone. I coveted it.

‘As for matters intended for Walsingham alone,’ Titus said, ‘he did not press me and I did not volunteer them.’

I nodded. ‘Sir John is aware that I work for Walsingham,’ I said, ‘as is Dr Nuñez. No doubt they will have guessed that you are also in his employ, but unless it should have some bearing on this expedition, I doubt if they will question you further.’

He poured out two tankards of ale and sat down opposite me, looking grave.

‘It is ill-conceived, this expedition, Kit.’

‘I’m well aware of that.’ I shrugged. ‘I have known it from the start, but you will not convince men to abandon their dreams.’

‘And now this attempt to capture Coruña. For what purpose?’

‘None, as far as I can see. For loot? For a brief triumph against Spain? Even if we were to capture it, we could not hold it. We have no means to leave an occupying force here.’

‘And in the meantime, the expedition falters.’

‘Exactly so.’ I sighed, and took a swig of my ale. ‘The problem lies in the divided aims of the leaders. The Portuguese exiles want to drive the Spanish out of Portugal and put Dom Antonio on the throne. On the other hand, Drake wants to inflict the greatest possible damage on the Spanish, especially the Spanish navy, so he can seize their treasure from the Americas. He cares not a farthing what happens to the Portuguese crown. I think Norreys set out with the intention of promoting the Portuguese mission, but he is easily diverted and has fallen in with Drake’s plans.’

‘All of which is very damaging.’ He set down his tankard. ‘It is you to move first.’

I moved one of my pawns.

‘We are here not only to play chess,’ I said, ‘but to discuss in private what you mentioned to me, the night before last. Before I left London, I was told by Sir Francis that you thought you had fallen under suspicion, and you said you thought you had been betrayed.’

He moved a pawn and I moved another. I had only half my mind on the game, but I did not wish to make any careless moves. In the past I had often played with my mathematics tutor Thomas Harriot, though there had been very few opportunities in recent years. Sometimes I played with my father, though his increasing inattention had meant it was no longer enjoyable.

‘You said,’ I reminded him, ‘that you did not believe you had been discovered or betrayed locally, but that something might have occurred at
Seething Lane.’ I shook my head. ‘I do not see how that could be. I would trust them all – Sir Francis himself would never endanger one of his agents. Nor would Thomas Phelippes or Arthur Gregory or Francis Mylles, none of those who work at Seething Lane. I am sure of it.’

‘I put it badly.’ He grinned. ‘We were somewhat distracted at the time, you will recall. When I said
Seething Lane, I did not mean at the centre of the service itself. The whole organisation has many branches, many agents, many – like your Dr Nuñez – who provide occasional assistance or information. That is partly the danger. Too many people, some of whom may have divided loyalties.’

My heart gave a sudden lurch,
divided loyalties
, and I hesitated, my hand holding one of my knights over the board.

‘When did you first begin to think you were under suspicion?’

‘It must have been in March.’ I had placed my knight carelessly and he captured it with his queen. ‘It was then that the commander of the garrison summoned me to the fortress, the new fortress on the island, the Castillo de San Antón. At that time the garrison was still quartered there.’

‘You were interrogated?’

‘Nothing so obvious. I was told I would be commissioned to make a number of new uniforms for the soldiers of the garrison. It was a valuable order, so I must understand how important it was that they should know more about me. It was all done in a most friendly, jovial way.’

‘And?’

‘All the time I have been in Spain, I have passed myself off as half Irish, half Spanish, and a Catholic. In truth my mother was herself half Irish, and
her
mother was Spanish. I simply skipped a generation. I called myself Mendes, my grandmother’s name. She had much of my early rearing, after my mother died, so I am fluent in Spanish. She also started my training as a tailor. My father, of course, was English and I lived with him in Winchester from the age of seven. He felt that tailoring was a useful trade, and had me apprenticed, though I have never earned my living as a tailor at home, having abandoned it to become a merchant’s clerk. I regard myself as English, but my mixed background made me useful to Walsingham.’

‘Yes, it would. Like mine.’ I studied the board, planning my strategy, and set out to lay a trap for Titus’s queen. I moved my remaining knight more carefully and decided how I would deploy my bishops and one of my castles.

Titus had not seen through my intentions and moved a bishop in a way that would not threaten them.

‘March,’ I said. ‘I know of one man wh
o gained his freedom in December from the Tower. A man I would not trust. There has always been a kind of mist obscuring the true nature of his loyalty. Walsingham still continues to use him, though I am not sure how far he trusts him. I know Thomas Phelippes is deeply suspicious of him. I have my own reasons for knowing that he is a liar and a dangerous man.’

His head had jerked up when I mentioned the Tower, and his next move, after my careful one, was made while hardly looking at the board.

‘The Tower? You mean Robert Poley? He has been released?’

‘He was released just before Christmas
.’

He let out his breath on a long sigh. ‘Do you know where he is?’

‘I have only seen him once since his release. That would have been early in March, I think. Yes, also March. He had been in the Low Countries and was about to leave for Denmark, carrying despatches.’

‘You are thinking what I am thinking?’

‘Aye.’

‘If he was in the
Low Countries early this year, he could have made contact with the Duke of Parma.’

‘It would not be difficult, for a man with Poley’s experience. Besides, many people still believe Poley was really part of the Babington conspiracy, though he pretended to have been infiltrated into their company on Walsingham’s behalf, to spy on them. I know that he lied about that.’

He looked at me inquiringly. We had stopped playing.

‘I had seen him, quite by chance,’ I said, ‘months before, on intimate terms with Anthony Babington, though he claimed to Walsingham that he did not know him.’

‘So he may still be working for the enemy, though for the Spanish now instead of the French.’

‘The French are too much weakened at the moment,’ I said, ‘by the struggles between the Guise faction and the Huguenots led by Henri of Navarre.’

I seized his queen with my knight, and he clicked his tongue in annoyance at himself for leaving her unguarded.


Spain has been weakened too,’ he said, ‘by the failure of the Armada.’

‘Aye, but
Spain has two great advantages over France – a strong and ruthless leader in King Philip and all the riches of their New World conquests to put money in their pockets. Plenty to buy ships and armaments. Plenty to maintain a large standing army.’

‘I agree,’ he said, moving a pawn carelessly. I captured it.

‘But I still do not understand.’ He drummed his fingers on the table. ‘Poley has a good position with Walsingham. I am sure he is well rewarded. He is an Englishman, and England will suffer if he betrays her secrets. What has he to gain?’

‘Money,’ I said grimly. ‘Power. He enjoys power over other people, and through betrayal he gains power.’

I narrowed my eyes, thinking of Poley and all I knew of him. ‘Revenge.’

‘Revenge?’

‘Revenge. He has been shut up in the Tower for more than two years. However comfortably he lived there, however politic it was to maintain a fiction, he cannot have taken it kindly. He might well want to take revenge on Walsingham by damaging his service, provided he can conceal his own involvement, acting by stealth. He will want to stay privy to its secrets. Do not underestimate his talents and his cunning.’

‘You hate him.’

‘I have my reasons. I think you will find – if ever the truth can be laid bare – that Robert Poley passed word to Parma, who in turn passed word to Coruña as to your identity.’

‘You are probably right,’ he said. ‘But in that case, why merely have me watched? Why not arrest and torture me?’

I smiled. ‘Well, you can be thankful for that.’ I moved a bishop to a strategic position.

‘Perhaps they trust Poley no more than we do,’ I said. ‘They had you watched, hoping to catch you out, but wisely you sent no more despatches after warning Walsingham.’

He nodded. ‘I stayed quiet and plied my trade. That kept me safe. Then the English fleet arrived and you sprang me from the trap.’

He moved one of his castles. A mistake.

I made my final move and smiled at him. ‘Checkmate,’ I said.

 

We had no proof of Poley’s involvement, of course, and probably never would have, but we agreed that when Titus got back to London he would give Walsingham an account of our suspicions. He did not intend to travel on to Portugal with the expedition but would return to England whenever the next ship was sent home with despatches. In the meantime he stayed on board the
Victory
and we had a few more games of chess. When we were not distracted, we found we were pretty evenly matched.

Although I was still troubled and in pain from my burn, which was gradually growing less, and somewhat hampered by my sprained ankle, it was nothing to what was taking place on land. During the following days more and more of our skilled soldiers died needlessly during the fruitless attacks on the citadel. Norreys’s own brother, Sir Edward Norreys, was desperately wounded, not as a result of enemy fire, but because, in the confusion and exhaustion of the siege, he tripped over his own pike and injured himself very severely, the blade burying itself deep in his skull. It was an injury likely to prove fatal. He was one of the most senior officers on the expedition, in command of one of the five squadrons, led by his galleon ironically called
Foresight
.

BOOK: The Portuguese Affair
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