The Tudor Triangle

Chapter 16: The Pilgrimage Part 1

Thursday 12th, September 1560

Buntingford

With two days of hard riding behind them, Katherine and Tom rode into Buntingford heading straight for the Angel Inn. The night had already drawn in,hours had been passed in a blur of galloping. They were too exhausted to speak any more words than were necessary and so got a room on a few 'yes' and 'no's.'  Not that Tom spoke much anyway, Katherine thought. He seemed to be keeping some vow of silence from his holier days.  

This had made the journey hard for Katherine, with nothing to fill her head. She missed the continuous ramblings of Mary Grays which had replaced her own dark thoughts. The journey had been filled with Amy's death and the last few months of her life, torturing her.

Could she have done something?  This was a new thought that had crept in over those travelling days.  Was there some sign, some indication she was in mortal danger? She thought of Andrew Forster but he showed no animosity to Amy, just indifference.  Katherine had noticed him starting to draw up large plans to update Cumnor, had he come into some money?  Had Robert paid him to dispose of Amy?  There was no better man to have done it, to arouse minimal suspicion.  His reputation for honesty was well known in Berkshire.  He had famously given back money to a trader who had miscalculated the change.  Could Andrew Forster had been persuaded by arguments about the greater good?  What if Robert had persuaded him that by killing Amy he was saving the lives of thousands, for if Elizabeth died without an heir, Civil War could break out once more. After all, England was not stable, it had seen four Tudor monarchs in thirteen years.  

Then there was Andrew Talbot, drowned in the Thames, the Isis. Katherine was sure he had repeated his ramblings at the alehouse and had been overheard by someone in Dudley's pay. It would have been easy to overpower him, stumbling by the riverbank. Silencing his damnations for good and who would miss him?  Who would question a disliked drunken man falling into a river? He had no connections in Abingdon, no family to mourn his passing. She wondered if he had travelled to Buntingford at some point in his unfortunate life and heard dangerous gossip about Amy's tampered food.

 So, that was two murders in less than a week. So now onto Throcking, she would have to tread carefully she thought as she dragged herself up the stairs.

As they entered their room and slung down their things, Katherine had to admit a grudging admiration for the stoical Tom. She studied him as he stripped off his outer layers. Not once had he complained or asked to go slower. He did not murmur when she urged the horse on, or whine of hunger pangs. The young girl felt every one of her bones so goodness knows how the middle-aged Tom felt. The daughter and father ruse had worked moderately well with any passing travellers they had met on the way.  Katherine was surprised as she looked nothing like him, but people seemed unwilling to pry.  They had stayed one night in Dunstable but had been up before sun broke to finish the journey today. Luckily, no robbers of highwaymen crossed their path.

Tom had also kept quiet when Katherine had planted more damaging gossip into the heads of the people they had conversed with.  Most of them had been on the way to London, where Dudley would have to gain support if he were to marry the Queen.  By spreading rumour here she was striking at the heart of his campaign.  Londoners were an unruly lot and quick to show displeasure when they felt it.  They liked not Anne Boleyn or Nan Bullen as they called her, and had been sullen at her Coronation. The city had not rejoiced when Lady Jane Grey usurped Mary Tudor and she had lasted nine days.  All knew a sovereign had to keep the favour of the capital to keep the throne.  So, if she was turning the hearts of Londoners against the Master of the Horse, then all the better.

They were staying in Buntingford as it was but a few miles from Throcking, where Amy had once stayed. Buntingford was a coaching town on the Ermine Way, an ancient Roman road that led from the North, via Cambridge down to London. Just as Watling Street served Birmingham to London. It was a main thoroughfare of trade, with at least a dozen inns vying for the travellers shilling. The main part of the town was clustered around the High Street that led to Cambridge, then on to York.  Robert himself had stayed at the Angel when visiting Amy in Throcking, so Katherine knew it had a fair reputation.