The Traitor’s Mark by D. K. Wilson Read Free Book Online

took his time over the reply, obviously thinking carefully what to say. ‘I heard there was some trouble at his house recently.’ His tone was nonchalant.
    â€˜Yes, Wednesday. Some ruffians broke in and killed his assistant.’
    â€˜What? Young George? How terrible.’ His pretence of shock and surprise was not convincing. He obviously knew more than he wanted to admit. I began to think I was wasting my time with the fellow.
    â€˜Indeed. It was fortunate Master Johannes was not there. You have no idea where I might find him now?’
    â€˜When I saw him last, a few days ago, he was on his way to court. He was talking about some commission he had for the new queen. I suppose he is still there.’
    â€˜Perhaps Master Reynold, here, may have seen him.’ I turned to the messenger. ‘Where is his majesty keeping court now? Do you know if our artist friend is there?’
    The young man was glad to air his knowledge. ‘The court’s at Ampthill Castle, near Bedford. It’s small for the whole court but his majesty vows he’ll not come a mile nearer London as long as the plague lasts.’
    â€˜Ampthill – was that not where Queen Catherine was kept?’the priest asked.
    â€˜Aye, that she was,’Reynold replied.
    â€˜God keep her!’ Harriday crossed himself. ‘The kingdom has gone from bad to—’
    â€˜So,’ I interrupted impatiently. ‘Is Master Holbein there?’
    â€˜Was,’ the messenger replied. ‘Her majesty commanded him there to paint likenesses of the king’s children. The princesses are travelling with the court but Prince Edward lives nearby at Ashridge.’
    â€˜So, the artist is no longer there?’ I prompted.
    I think he left at the beginning of the week.’
    â€˜To come back to London?’
    Reynold shrugged.‘I suppose.’
    I looked at the Fleming. ‘And he has not been in touch with you since then?’
    John shook his head.
    â€˜Then it seems he never reached the City.’
    â€˜Perhaps he was headed somewhere else,’ John suggested. ‘Another customer. Another commission.’
    â€˜And you’ve no idea where I might seek him?’
    â€˜Johannes is a quite solitary man – secretive even. I do not think he confides his movements to other people. Certainly not to me.’
    â€˜A pity,’ I said. ‘I have important news for him about his children. They are safe and in my care. Should you ever stumble across Master Holbein,’ I said sarcastically, ‘perhaps you would be kind enough to let him know where to find his family.’
    Soon afterwards I bade the company farewell. As I rode back to West Cheap I reflected grimly on my wasted morning.Yet, perhaps not totally wasted. Was it just because I disliked the man that I felt convinced John of Antwerp was determined to stop me making contact with his friend?
    Over the next couple of days the work of closing up the house continued. I sent Adie and the children on ahead in my coach with the loaded wagons and most of the remaining staff. Because the roads were in such a sorry state due to the heavy rain, it was obvious that the journey would take them at least a couple of days. My plan was to leave twenty-four hours later with three mounted and armed servants and arrive at about the same time. Before I could go I had to reply to the Lord Mayor’s letter. All I could say was that I had failed to contact Holbein and, thus, must regretfully decline the commission. It was the bare truth. It made both me and my friend appear incompetent but I could not add to it. That would only have encouraged speculation about Holbein’s disappearance and set tongues wagging around the City. For the hundredth time I racked my brains to think what could have happened to him. I had been farming out design work to him for some three years and had never had cause for complaint. He always produced his drawings promptly