{"id":196,"date":"2016-09-28T22:47:27","date_gmt":"2016-09-28T22:47:27","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/?p=196"},"modified":"2016-09-28T22:47:27","modified_gmt":"2016-09-28T22:47:27","slug":"broken-instrument-chapter-17-poley-the-cleaver","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/a-broken-instrument\/broken-instrument-chapter-17-poley-the-cleaver\/","title":{"rendered":"(Broken Instrument) CHAPTER 17: POLEY: THE CLEAVER"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Moll<\/a>
Moll Cutpurse. I based Meg on her.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

From 10 August 1540 onward, the Privy Council clerks acted as the Council\u2019s principal aides, working not for one but for all, and as subject to the precariousness of politics and events as the Councillors themselves.<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

Secretaries, Statesmen, and Spies<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

Jacqueline D. Vaughan<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

It was mid-morning and Robert Poley was in high and determined spirits. Yesterday had been a wild ride of success and mischance but he was intent on making this day be entirely under the benevolent eye of Dame Fortune. His humors were high and his blood fairly spun in his veins. He knew where he had to go and the laborious upstream rowing of a wherryman was much too slow for his mood. His rapid pace took him westward along Conning Street to Watling and past St Paul\u2019s and out the city walls at Ludgate. The streets were still muddy from the night\u2019s rain and he had to step quickly on occasion to avoid being splashed by passing wagons and coaches. <\/span><\/p>\n

He took basic precautions, doubled back a few times, stopped here and there to see if any of those among the crowds of people in the streets stopped along with him, if any of the faces were familiar. By the time he passed through Ludgate, he was reasonably sure that he was not being followed.<\/span><\/p>\n

His goal was a short distance along Fleet Street, towards the Temple Bar, that old barrier between the districts. This was where John Middleborough lived. John\u2019s name had occurred to him last night as he left Meg\u2019s tavern with a full purse. John was a clerk high in the offices of the Exchequer. He and Poley had played cards together with some frequency in the past and, in point of fact, Poley owed him a good amount of coin from the last time they had met over a table. Which explained why Poley had been avoiding the man for the last few months. John, however, was a great source of Whitehall gossip and very knowledgeable about those who worked in the chambers of Her Majesty\u2019s government. Poley had found his insight and observations most useful in the past and hoped, with the help of debts paid in full, that he might be so again.<\/span><\/p>\n

With an encouraging bit of luck, Poley found John at home, not yet left for his duties upriver at Whitehall. He was a stocky fellow, with thinning sandy hair and a beard kept trimmed close and neat in Court fashion. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve just come into a goodly sum of coin and, of course, my first thought was of the debts I owe you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOf course.\u201d John\u2019s tone was dry.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAt final count, how much do I owe you?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

John considered for a moment. \u201cDidn\u2019t we write it down, when last we played? Yes, I think we did.\u201d He rummaged through his desk, upended several books, muttering to himself the entire time. He finally found what he sought marking a place in book of poetry. He looked at it, angled to best catch the light coming through the window. Then he handed it over to Poley. \u201cHere. Does this match with your recollection?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

It did, unfortunately enough. His luck had been damnably bad, that night, and looked to be little better right now. He had held some faint hope that John would have accepted some half remembered figure, a figure a good deal smaller than the one which was accompanied by his signature on the piece of parchment. \u201cThree pounds seven pence. Indeed, that matches my memory exactly.\u201d Poley unbuttoned his doublet,reached inside, and pulled out a small but full purse. He bounced it lightly on his palm to fix John\u2019s attention on the beguiling jingle of coin. \u201cI\u2019m short of small coin this morning. Why don\u2019t we call it four pounds even?\u201d He grinned where no one could see at the naked look of surprise that set up shop on John\u2019s face.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, that, I mean, well.\u201d John swallowed hard and got control of his words. He coughed. \u201cWhat I mean to say is that would be marvelously fine. You\u2019re not only a man of your word, Bob Poley, but a greatly generous one was well.\u201d His gaze tracked the movement of Poley\u2019s hand as he plucked pound coins out of the purse one by one and laid them in a clinking stack on his desk. When Poley laid the last coin in the stack but kept his finger there on the coins, John\u2019s mouth made a wry and understanding twist. \u201cIt\u2019s nice to see that you haven\u2019t changed. Bob Poley, the man who won\u2019t do one thing if he can do two things. How can I be of service?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou were always quick, John. That\u2019s how I come to owe you these coins. Yes, there is something that you can help me with.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

John reached out to where his gown hung on the wall by his desk. \u201cWill this be something that I can help you with quickly? I needs must get to Whitehall presently. Sir William is a very badger and I try not to raise his ire by coming into work late.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The hook set, Poley took his finger from the stack of coins and settled himself comfortably on a bench set against the wall. \u201cI won\u2019t be keeping you long. All I need is some of the fruits of your knowledge. I need to know everything that you know about one Adam Denby. He works close to the Privy Council.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDenby. Denby.\u201d John muttered to himself as he shrugged on his gown. \u201cYes, I know of whom you speak.\u201d He came around the desk, swept up the coins, and then leaned back against the desk facing Poley. \u201cAdam Denby is an assistant to Secretary William Waad, who is now one of the two principal Secretaries for the Privy Council. Denby is close to Waad, sees him as his patron, and through him, Lord Bourghley. Denby\u2019s from Dorset; family\u2019s minor gentry with ambitions for more, though they have Catholicism in their past. Denby married well, so it\u2019s possible that the Catholic taint passed from him when his parents pledged to the Church of England.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou say that he\u2019s close to Waad. What duties does he perform for the Secretary?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWriting of letters and sometimes courier missions to the Continent. Denby speaks French and so has been sent with messages to Paris twice that I know of. Waad values Denby\u2019s observations of events over there. Rumor has it that there\u2019s a good chance he might succeed Waad when Waad retires.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Poley rose and straightened his doublet. \u201cYou might start spreading the rumor that suspicion has fallen upon Denby and that he\u2019s under investigation. That around him hangs the odor of Rome.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

John looked expressionless at Poley for a moment. \u201cThat\u2019s big game that you\u2019re hunting, Bob. And I know that you have no patron, not with Sir Francis so recently dead. Your aim best be true. You best not miss.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhen it comes to this kind of hunting, I\u2019m one of the best, John. Start spreading the word.\u201d With that, he tipped his hat to John and exited the room, leaving him there, still leaning against his desk and now gnawing fitfully at a thumbnail. \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Leaving John\u2019s house, Poley\u2019s mood of excitement was undiminished, sharpened, if anything. <\/span>I\u2019ve got a bead on that bastard now. I know how he\u2019s getting his information, how he knows me so well. And now that I now know who he reports to, I know who must be made to believe Denby a traitor. Whitehall\u2019s my next stop, spread coin and rumors about Denby\u2019s true allegiance. If I can get people to start doubting him, there\u2019ll be fewer to protect him when I make my run. <\/span><\/i>Aflame with confidence and direction, he made to punch fist into palm but stopped motionless at the sight of the man waiting for him across the street from John\u2019s house.<\/span><\/p>\n

It was a bit strange, the difference between Meg and Ollie the Straight. Both had clawed their way out of the gutter, leaving bodies and blood behind them in a snail\u2019s track of violence. But Meg wore her clothes with an assurance and naturalness, while her lieutenant never looked quite right. Standing in front of Poley, dressed in modest but well tailored clothes, falling band collar, half-cloak, doublet and breeches in dark colored wool, the lean saturnine man gave off an air of ill-fittedness, as if some rawhead bloodybones was going remove its mask at any moment. Poley knew better than to give any sign of his disquiet. \u201cMaster Sleight. How did you know I was here?\u201d He kept his tone politely enquiring, one professional hunter to another, pitched so to carry over the racket being made by the carpenter and his apprentices who were working on the house behind them. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou were marked going out Ludgate. Word quickly found its way back to Meg.\u201d Ollie\u2019s tone was as grey as his eyes. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDoes your mistress require something of me?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYour mistress too now, pursuivant. And yes, she has business that requires you to attend upon her.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIs the matter pressing? I ask because I have urgent business up in Whitehall. If perhaps I could be at her side later today, that would suit me better.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Ollie shook his head. \u201cDon\u2019t play the fool. She orders, you obey. You know that\u2019s how it is. Come with me. I\u2019m to take you to her.\u201d Without looking behind him to see if Poley was following, Ollie moved off down the road, picking his way between the people.<\/span><\/p>\n

Meg was only a short walk away, further away from the city. She was waiting with another manservant across the street from a building that was being torn down. It looked as if it might have been something fine, perhaps back in the day of the Queen\u2019s sister, but now it was in sad repair. It had clearly been abandoned for some time, the roof decayed and the chimney slumped. Workmen swarmed all over it, moving up and down ladders and scaffolds, carrying what could be re-used, throwing that which was trash. A common enough sight in London and its surroundings, a house bought for cheap, repaired, and then sold for an eye watering profit.<\/span><\/p>\n

Poley approached Meg and made his bow. \u201cMilady, I was given word that you wished to see me?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Her hat was a particularly fine one this day, tall, green, with a wisp of veil hanging from one side. Her clothes were equally fine. \u201cI need to talk with the man who bought that house. He\u2019s there now, supervising the workers. He recently bought a piece of the customs trade for tax farming purposes. I wish to do business with him and require an introduction. I believe that you and he are acquainted, so you will serve to introduce me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Poley nodded agreeably. \u201cI would be honored. What\u2019s the gentleman\u2019s name?\u201d <\/span>Thank fuck. I make the introductions, there\u2019s some deal done, and I can be about my business. Shouldn\u2019t take that long, I can get up to Whitehall with plenty of time.<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u201cEdward Abbot. He\u2019s high up in the Customs House.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAh, yes, I know the man. Your sources were right, he and I have done business on occasion, a matter of keeping me informed of smuggled Catholic items of religious significance. Though I must warn you, he is prideful and most high-handed. And what name should I use to introduce you?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMargaret Taverner.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA good honest name.\u201d Poley took a risk. \u201cIt suits you well.\u201d After Meg let the impertinence go with only a look and lifted eyebrow, Poley gestured in the direction of the building. \u201cShall we be about our business, Milady?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The house had been grand enough to have a courtyard facing the street, the enclosing wall now shedding bricks like fleas leaving a dying dog. The group of them, Poley, Meg, Ollie, and the manservant entered through a gateway whose gate was a pile of worm eaten lumber piled to one side. Poley recognized Edward Abbot standing in the center of courtyard, giving orders to a foreman, pointing to the workers on the scaffolds and being very emphatic and hectoring about something. A not overly tall man, his belly swollen and his face filled with years of good eating, he was well dressed in rich cloth and rings flashed in the sun as he first gestured at the house then jabbed his finger at the foreman.<\/span><\/p>\n

Poley took a moment before they were noticed to lean close to Meg. \u201cHis choler is high. This might not be the best time to approach him with business dealings.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve dealt with men in high temper all the time. I\u2019m not dissuaded by a spray of spit and some harsh words. Do your job and don\u2019t worry about me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Poley shrugged. \u201cAs you wish, Milady.\u201d He pasted a smile on his face and strode forward. \u201cMaster Abbot! I hope that this day finds you well?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd this time, make sure it\u2019s done correctly!\u201d Abbot finished with the foreman and turned to Poley. His eyes narrowed and then he recognized him. \u201cRobert Poley. Good day to you.\u201d His tone was scarcely welcoming. \u201cI\u2019m afraid that I am very busy at the moment, as you can see. What can I do for you?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Poley looked around at all the work being done and let an admiring tone creep into his voice. \u201cThis indeed has the look of a great undertaking. Fortune must be favoring you indeed. And what\u2019s this I hear about you buying into the Customs House tax farming? \u2018Tis no wonder that you can pay for such a work as this mansion.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve found Fortune to be a chancy mistress at best.\u201d Abbot couldn\u2019t resist turning lecturing and prideful. \u201cFor me, hard work is the best path to success. Hard work and attention to detail.\u201d He turned to shout at a worker carrying a hod of bricks off a ladder. \u201cNot in that pile! Those can re-used! They go in the other pile!\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s because of that eagle eye that I\u2019m here today. I have been instructed to bring an opportunity to your attention.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat sort of opportunity?\u201d Abbot was still distracted.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI believe that I will let the lady explain for herself.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

That got Abbot\u2019s attention. \u201cI beg your pardon? A woman? Are you completely crack-brained, Poley? You want me to discuss some matter of business with a woman? Even you must know that they have no head for business, for they are too ruled by the heart, too flighty.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd yet, we are ruled by a most puissant queen, are we not? Is not England peaceful and wealthy while all the rest of Europe bleeds and screams?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Abbot harrumphed and gestured irritably. \u201cWell, to be sure, you understand what I mean. The queen is no ordinary woman.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd neither is Margaret Taverner. She is a wealthy London businesswoman who took over her husband\u2019s business at his untimely passing and has made it prosper greatly. Upon my honor, you will not regret spending a few moments of your time in conversation with her. The result will be most profitable, that I swear.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Abbot acquiesced with a shrug. \u201cWell, if you say so, Poley. Very well, I\u2019ll meet with her. But I\u2019ll hold you responsible should my time be wasted.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI thank you, Master Abbot.\u201d Poley turned and nodded to Meg. \u201cYou are most kind.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Meg made her way across the courtyard. Poley had to admit, she looked very fine, in her scarlet outfit, and she moved very confidently. \u201cMaster Edward Abbot, I have the honor and the pleasure to present to you Widow Margaret Taverner.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

Meg curtsied and Abbot returned a polite bow. Poley stepped back a little to remove himself from the conversation. He had no interest in any scheme of Meg\u2019s and there was much for him to think upon. He spent the next few minutes in busy internal contemplation, making plans, imagining how Denby could thwart them, refining the plans. He chafed at the hole in his planning left by Moody\u2019s lack of word; he had no idea if Nick were taken or not, even if he was running for England. He was jerked back to the business at hand by a bellow from Abbot.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMy God, Madam! How dare you speak to me in such a manner! How dare you suggest such things!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

What the fuck just happened? Did she proposition him? <\/span><\/i>Poley immediately knew that was impossible.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLeave here at once or I\u2019ll set the law on you!\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

Meg\u2019s faint and urbane smile never wavered. \u201cMaster Abbot, there is no need for such threats. This is business that I speak of, it is nothing personal, I make no insults to you. You need to calm yourself and consider my proposal.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Poley thought for an instant that an apoplectic fit would carry Abbot away on the spot. His face turned a most alarming color and he gaped like a hooked fish. There was no appearance that he was taking Meg\u2019s advice in any way.<\/span><\/p>\n

Finally he found his voice again. \u201cI\u2019ll consider nothing but making it my duty to see you whipped and in the stocks, you foul baggage! Yes, whipped and maybe even cropped! Jenkins! Jenkins, get this whore out of here!\u201d With his manservant, a burly gent with a single eyebrow, summoned and hurrying over, Abbot turned to Poley. \u201cAnd you, you wretched dunnykin diver into other people\u2019s affairs! What possessed you to bring this slattern to me? I could easily have you in front of the law as well, Poley, I truly could!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Poley glanced around to see what action Ollie was taking to protect his mistress. To his surprise, Ollie seemed to be walking over to the side of the courtyard to engage the foreman in conversation. <\/span><\/p>\n

Jenkins approached Meg and grabbed her hard by the upper arm. \u201cMove your ass, you-\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Poley\u2019s attention was taken up by the finger that Abbot was waving in his face and the need to to make some sort of excuse. So he did not notice what precisely happened. <\/span><\/p>\n

Meg made a fast movement, there was a flash of shiny steel, and Jenkins shrieked in agony and disbelief. Poley suddenly found himself paying much less attention to Abbot. Jenkins reeled back, gripping his arm, trying to stem the blood that audibly splashed onto the dirt. Meg stepped delicately around the bloody mud. Her arm made a tight sharp swing. The bloody silver cleaver at the end of her arm got buried in Jenkins\u2019 throat, stopping his screams. <\/span><\/p>\n

The silence in the courtyard was deafening. All eyes, all ears were on Meg as she strolled towards Abbot. Poley could hear her steps crunch in the dirt. The hair on the back of his neck rose when he realized she was humming to herself.<\/span><\/p>\n

Meg stopped in front of Abbot. Reached out, took a handful of his gown and cleaned her cleaver. The man\u2019s face was a stricken white. His mouth gaped wordlessly, a shiny thread of spittle suspended from an upper lip. He tried to move backward but Meg held his gown in a firm grip. She wasn\u2019t even looking directly at him, but was intent on getting every last spot of blood off her cleaver. \u201cThis is my proposal.\u201d Her voice was low and even. \u201cI am to be your partner in your business with the duties that you\u2019ve bought from the Customs House. You will tell me when valuable cargoes come through, what ships are carrying these cargoes.\u201d She took a minute to raise her cleaver to the sunlight, twist it back and forth to examine it for spots. Reflections danced across the face of the house. Her words never faltered. \u201cAll profits you make, you will give me a share. You will employ men of mine and they will keep you honest. For in time, I know that the force of this lesson will leave you.\u201d Finally the cleaver gleamed spotless. \u201cThere. Nice and clean.\u201d Meg released Abbot\u2019s gown.<\/span><\/p>\n

He staggered back as if his legs had turned to jelly. His voice was hoarse. \u201cHow? How do you expect to get away with this? You\u2019ve murdered Jenkins. Right here. Right in front of me. You\u2019re mad. Possessed by demons.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Meg blew out an exasperated breath. With a quick twist of her arm, she secreted her cleaver out of sight under her clothes at the small of her back. \u201cMaster Abbot. Listen and listen clear. You need to keep one simple fact in your head. One simple fact and all will be believable. The one fact. I am not an idiot.\u201d She tucked away some loose hair back underneath her hat and made sure it sat right on her head. \u201cDo you think that I would have done this had there been any chance that you could bring me before the Justices? You are the only one who can say I was even here today. I have any number of people who will swear that I never left my home this day.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Abbot gave out a disbelieving bark of laughter. \u201cI knew it! Possessed you are!\u201d He flailed his arm about to indicate the scaffolded house and the workers perched silent there, all their labors ceased and their attention fixed on the bloody events below. \u201cWhat of all these men? They are all witnesses. They all saw you cut down poor Jenkins!\u201d \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Pressure in his chest reminded Poley that he needed to breathe. He took in air and began to collect his wits. All his plans for an afternoon of spreading rumors in Whitehall had scattered like mice at the sight of a hawk. He realized that he\u2019d been no better than Abbot and had neglected to keep one simple fact in his mind. Meg was crime queen of London. That meant she was smarter and more dangerous than any woman had the right to be. He would have to take extra care in juggling the conflicting demands of his pursuit of Denby and Meg\u2019s tasks. Any mistiming would see him dead from either.<\/span><\/p>\n

He quickly looked around the courtyard for Ollie. It was odd that he hadn\u2019t been there for his mistress. Poley spotted him with a companionable hand on the foreman\u2019s shoulder and the shape of Meg\u2019s plan began to become clear even before she spoke.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThose men?\u201d Meg took the time for a leisurely survey of the men. Ollie nodded at her. \u201cOf the many mistaken beliefs you hold one is that these men are in your employ. When in fact, they all work for me.\u201d Another leisurely glance saw all the men doff their caps to her. \u201cI say again, Master Abbot, one simple fact. That is all you need. I. Am. Not. An. Idiot. Good day to you.\u201d She moved away and called to Ollie. \u201cMaster Poley will walk me back. You stay here and make sure things are settled.\u201d She nodded towards Abbot. \u00a0\u201cMake sure he understands his part.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShouldn\u2019t be a problem, Milady. He looks biddable as a lamb after your lesson.\u201d Ollie gestured at the body of the unfortunate Jenkins. \u201cThe Thames for that one?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOr the foundation of this house. Whatever you think is best.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Abbot gaped in disbelief. He looked as if he might collapse at any minute, whey faced and weak kneed. The last that Poley saw of him was Ollie approaching him companionably, as if there was no body bleeding out onto the dirt.<\/span><\/p>\n

Poley and Meg walked in silence for a bit, heading back towards the city along Fleet Street. The street was its usual busy self, a small herd of sheep being driven from the nearby fields to a shambles causing all sorts of havoc among the wagons, carts, and other traffic. Eventually, Poley decided that he had to do what he could to salvage the rest of his day. \u201cThat was a neat piece of work, I don\u2019t think that I\u2019ve ever seen better.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Meg spit lady-like between her teeth. \u201cThat? That was just a bit of the frighteners.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cEven so, to have it all planned out like that.\u201d Poley stopped, struck by a sudden thought. \u201cWait. I just realized, being particularly slow today. Were those actually your men working at the site?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Meg grinned tight-lipped and ferocious. \u201cI was wondering if you\u2019d think of that. But, aye, they were my men. They work for a builder who I own. They got word this morning that something might occur and that they were to do as they were told. I could have bluffed Abbot, true enough, but I wanted some extra eyes on him to make sure just how he\u2019d jump.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA nice piece of work, all together.\u201d Jostled by a passing apprentice, Poley lengthened his stride to come up alongside Meg again. \u201cBut I must ask, will you be needing my services any more today? For there are diverse matters requiring my most strict attention and I would like your permission to deal with them.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMatters relating to your work as an intelligencer? \u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAye. I now must do more with less, for I have no Court patron, no money but what I can raise myself, no direct help from the Crown.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBut you have a patron now. You are in my service.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

It was at this point that Poley began to choose his words with even more care than usual, Jenkins\u2019 body not even being cold back there in the builder\u2019s yard. \u201cThat I am, Milady. And I am at your disposal, to be used as you see fit. But I would like to make two points, if I may?\u201d He waited until she nodded. \u201cOne. No matter what I might do for you, and do willingly, I am an Englishman. And England is under threat. We both know that. The Armada was just two years ago. My work as an intelligencer stops the threats that are less obvious but no less dangerous than that fleet. The threats continue and I would work to do my part to defeat them. Two. With a court patron, maybe even Lord Burghley himself, I can be of even more use to you.\u201d \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThose are both good points.\u201d Her tone was encouraging. \u201cEspecially the last one.\u201d She walked on for a bit more, clearly thinking it over. \u201cWhat threat are you working against at this time?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Growing relief made Poley a bit cocky. \u201cThere is a worm at the heart of Her Majesty\u2019s government and I mean to winkle it out.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLet no one ever say that you think small.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI know this to be true. I first suspected such a thing when my networks in the Low Countries were rumbled by the Spaniards. All of my agents taken except for one and I have faint hope for him. But Nick Applethorpe is a resourceful bastard and I have high hope that he\u2019ll make it back here alive.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Meg stopped dead in the street and turned her head to look directly at him. The brim of her hat cast her face into shadow. \u201cWhat was that name you just said?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

From 10 August 1540 onward, the Privy Council clerks acted as the Council\u2019s principal aides, working not for one but for all, and as subject to the precariousness of politics and events as the Councillors themselves. Secretaries, Statesmen, and Spies Jacqueline D. Vaughan   It was mid-morning and Robert Poley was in high and determined […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[5],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/196"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=196"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/196\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":198,"href":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/196\/revisions\/198"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=196"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=196"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=196"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}