Henry VIII and Katherine of Aragon: The Cannon Conspiracy (A Nicola Machiavelli Mystery Book 4) by Maryann Philip

Author:Maryann Philip [Philip, Maryann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: RealHistoryMysteryPress.com
Published: 2020-10-04T22:00:00+00:00

Wingfield Castle, Suffolk, by John Carr, 1776

Chapter 22: Menace at Wingfield Castle

Several days later, outside Wingfield Castle, Suffolk

Nicola stood at the edge of the forest with Lady Margaret, her sons, and seven soldiers, hidden among the trees. Four shiny cannons pointed out from the top of the massive curtain wall surrounding Wingfield Castle.

“Are those your cannons?” Sir Bartholomew asked. A tall, broad-shouldered man with flaming red hair, he was a good friend of King Henry, and the leader of the expedition. Nicola had found him intelligent, thoughtful and trustworthy.

“Too far away to know. But they could be,” she answered, willing her voice to stay steady.

As much as she wanted to find the cannons, she had hoped they would not face this nightmare. If these were Biaggi cannons, it meant that Wingfield Castle was occupied by traitors to the Crown. And she had thoughtlessly volunteered to disable their defenses.

“Please, let’s arrive before sunset,” Lady Margaret said. She clasped her sons’ shoulders. “You know the plan, boys?” They nodded.

“I will hope to see you on the righthand lookout, soon,” Sir Bartholomew told Nicola.

“Pray God I can get up there. If you see me, those are Biaggi cannons.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

Sir Bartholomew and five soldiers faded into the forest, while the remaining two helped Lady Margaret and Nicola remount, and handed a boy up to each of them. Nicola held the youngest around his waist. His hair smelled of the sea.

They had left Greenwich Palace quietly before dawn three days earlier, boarded ship at Gravesend, and made a fast voyage, careening up the coast of the English Channel on Henry’s new ship Sovereign.

Though the offshore wind had left relatively calm seas near the coast, Lady Margaret had been violently seasick. She spent most of the trip draped over the leeward rail, leaving Nicola to chase her sons around the decks.

“Are young boys always like this?” Nicola had asked the sailor who helped her tug Geoffrey away from the ship’s wheel, which he was trying to steer despite the pilot’s efforts to keep it steady.

“How old are they?”

“Reginald is ten. Geoffrey is nine.”

The sailor, who had a struggling Geoffrey under one arm, dumped him on the foredeck. “They’re all pretty much like this. It gets worse,” he added, as the boy glared at him.

Geoffrey jumped up and scampered away, rubbing his buttocks. Sighing, Nicola hurried after him.

They had rested in a sheltered harbor, to allow Lady Margaret to recover and send a message to Wingfield Castle, announcing her visit. There they made their plans, while the company of soldiers sent with them polished their armor and sharpened their weapons.

Now it was time to follow the plan. Nicola felt strangely calm. She had been given a big role to play, but it was manageable and well-defined. And surely easier than avoiding King Henry in Greenwich Palace. With luck, it would work. Without luck—well, hadn’t she always been lucky?

As daylight began to fade, they rode silently through cleared fields, then through open gates in an outer wooden palisade.

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