The Enterprise of England Read Free Page A

capitulation.
    ‘Oh, very well.’
    I threw my cloak over a coffer near the door and prised off my boots. Set side by side in front of the fire they began to steam juicily. My stockings were wet through, but I had no intention of removing those. I wriggled my toes uncomfortably, and turned back to Phelippes.
    ‘Are you going to tell me what you really mean by “the present circumstances”?’
    He sighed.
    ‘A sudden flood of reports coming in from our agents all over Europe – Spain, France, Rome, Portugal, the Spanish Netherlands. Something is afoot, but until we can decipher and transcribe and translate them we can’t be quite sure what it is. Philip of Spain is up to his old tricks, but exactly what I cannot say. While the Scottish queen was alive and her cousin the Duke of Guise was planning an invasion last year, Philip was holding back. He has long wanted to seize England again, ever since it slipped through his fingers when Mary Tudor died.’
    He snorted in disgust. ‘King of England, he still calls himself! He wants to conquer the world.’
    ‘I know,’ I said. ‘An arrogant and dangerous man.’ I moved a stool in front of the fire and sat down. My stockings began to steam as well. ‘Why do you say Philip was holding back last year?’
    ‘If the plot by Babington and his friends had succeeded and the conspirators put the Scottish queen on our throne with the military support of France, then England would have become a protectorate of France, a powerful alliance that would have threatened Philip’s possessions in northern Europe and many of his trade routes.’
    ‘So Philip didn’t want the plot to succeed?’ I hadn’t understood that before.
    ‘Exactly. But – as no doubt you’ve heard – Scottish Mary, in laying claim to the English throne herself, named Philip as her successor to the crown of England, in the event of her death.’
    I nodded. ‘Philip King of Spain, rather than her own son, James King of Scotland.’
    ‘Of course not. James is a Protestant. He doesn’t bow down to the holy Catholic church and kiss the feet of the Bishop of Rome.’ His tone was contemptuous. ‘So she graciously bequeaths the throne of England to that good Catholic prince, who thinks he ought to be king of England anyway.’
    ‘So?’
    ‘So now he is beginning to move. King Philip of Spain does nothing in a hurry, but he has not forgotten the Enterprise of England. On this evidence,’ he waved his hand again at the packets of reports, ‘he is certainly planning something. From the few I have been able to decipher and read so far, envoys are buzzing around the Catholic nations and the Vatican like a swarm of bees. The sheer quantity of it amounts to a crisis. So this is where you come in.’
    I sighed, but before I could respond, Arthur Gregory emerged from his tiny office with a sheaf of papers in his hands. He beamed at me. Like Phelippes he looked tired, but he seemed cheerful enough.
    ‘Kit! I thought I heard your voice. It’s good to see you again. We’ve missed you.’
    It was just what the stable boy Harry had said. I had not thought my presence had been much felt here. I stood up and bowed to Arthur.
    ‘I’m glad to see you too.’
    He glanced at my stocking feet and smiled.
    ‘Master Phelippes fetched you across London in this terrible weather, did he?’
    ‘He did.’ I glared at Phelippes. ‘He seems to think he cannot deal with these reports himself.’
    ‘Indeed he can’t. He has even had me deciphering some of those in the easier codes, the familiar ones, and you know how slow I am. I have no head for breaking new codes, like you.’
    ‘It isn’t only reports from our own agents, then?’ I turned to Phelippes.
    ‘No. We have intercepted a number of messages passing between Madrid and Philip’s agents in his various domains. Including some to Mendoza in Paris. Mendoza always means trouble. One of our sea captains came in this morning with a fresh bundle of despatches he