Vampire Bard (The Immortal Knight Chronicles Short Stories) by Dan Davis

Author:Dan Davis [Davis, Dan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2020-02-23T03:00:00+00:00

2. The Globe Theatre

Southwark

June 1613

“I find this play to be a complete nonsense,” I said. “And worse it is tedious in the extreme, don't you think, Stephen?”

A merchant’s wife seated in the gallery before us turned to glare and some other stranger to my left muttered that I should keep my opinions to myself.

“Keep your voice down, Richard,” Stephen muttered at my side. “Anyway, it has barely even begun. Have patience and enjoy yourself.”

It was a stifling hot day in June. We sat high in the upstairs galleries at the Globe Theatre in Southwark on the south bank of the Thames opposite London watching a play called All Is True about old King Henry VIII and the trouble he had with the scheming Cardinal Wolsey. Our seats were wooden benches raked up in rows toward the rear enabling us to see over the heads of those in front. Down on the stage, three men in colourful costumes meant to mimic the courtly dress of a hundred years earlier, strutted about and spouted rather dry lines.

“Enjoy myself?” I replied, crossing my arms. “We are not here to be entertained, Stephen but to discover and apprehend a rogue immortal.” Again, the audience in the gallery glared at me and I looked around, raising my voice. “Do not grumble so, we can all be certain we are missing nothing of consequence.”

“What they going on about?” Walt asked from beside Stephen. “I can’t make it out.”

“If you would all only stop talking,” Eva said next to me. “We shall hear the words being spoken. Now, hush, please.”

“Who are they supposed to be?” Walt whispered, leaning over Stephen.

Stephen tutted. “That is Buckingham and that is Norfolk,” he muttered. “That is Abergavenny.”

“No one’s laughing,” Walt observed, chewing on a piece of his pork pie. “Ain’t this a comedy?”

“It is most certainly not,” Stephen said.

“Eh?” Walt was so appalled that he stopped chewing. “I thought it was a comedy?”

“It is about the last King Henry,” Stephen hissed. “Nothing about his life is remotely humorous.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Walt said, shrugging. “Big fat man chopping his wives heads off? Sounds funny to me.”

“Sounds like Richard’s romantic history,” Eva quipped, much to the amusement of the others.

“How dare you!” I said, sitting up straighter to hide my paunch. “Nothing wrong with an occasional period of leisurely inactivity now and then. And as for my romantic history, you can all mind your own business.”

The wife of an old merchant elbowed him and hissed in his ear, causing him to roll his eyes as he turned to me. “I beg you, good fellow, on behalf of all of us here who have spent our money just as much as you have, to please speak softly from now on, if it is not too much to ask.”

“Do not good fellow me, sir, for everyone in here is talking!” I snapped and I started to get up but Stephen pulled me down again and leaned close as he scowled.

“We are supposed to be

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