The Lord Of Misrule Read Free

frustrated daemon whispered.

    As it transpired, he needn’t have fretted. Lady Fortuna in the guise of his Aunt Elizabeth swept in to remind his ‘honoured’ guardian that he’d promised to take her and the children to the first of the Christmas celebrations at the Mercers Hall. That was just as well. Three hours of enduring Uncle Richard’s disapproving snorts at his efforts had strained the bonds of service. If the old fool had sneered at his transcribing one more time Ned would thrown the pile of papers and the frozen ink pot at him and be damned. However a miracle had happened and the Christmas piety had penetrated his uncle’s hard and flinty heart. Thus he was released. At the news Ned’s oldest cousin, little Henry, some seven years old, had capered, jumped and squealed in excitement. Young Hugh though just chuckled and gurgled at the performance. At barely a year he wriggled and kicked bundled in a warm blanket. Luckily Ned had remembered to plead a prior rendezvous with his friend of last year, Rob Black, over at Williams the Apothecary. So apart from a suspicious glare from Uncle Richard, he was exempted from the chaos of the family jaunt. While Ned still chortled at the mummers’ plays, his more mature seventeen years gave him the desire to seek out the more refined pleasures London had to offer.

    Just as well. He had plans for this afternoon to increase his share of festive cheer. And they didn’t involve the Rich clan. Since the conclusion of the Cardinal’s Angels affair two months ago, Ned had done some serious thinking regarding his prospects for the winter. That significant success had improved the weight of his formerly lean and starved purse. If he wanted to be regarded as a gentleman, it behoved him to look the part. Witness the heavy green woollen mantle with fur edging, new black hose and a velvet–edged and lined doublet of the best scarlet cloth. This sartorial splendour, apart from keeping him a great deal warmer, had raised his status amongst the other apprentice lawyers, as did the rumours of his part in Cardinal Wolsey’s fall. The result was the enacting of his Christmas plan. Of long standing custom, come the twelve days of celebration, the apprentice lawyers tended to scatter to their homes, though a few gained lodgings in the city with the relatives and patrons family in the city. This usually left fifty or so lads at a loose end. While it was true that the various Masters of the Inns had made provision for their comfort, it tended to be under a watchful eye, so the festival cheer was usually rather muted.

    Ned, being a kind and generous fellow, had commiserated with his companions in misery and suggested a possible solution to their woes. If perhaps several of them pooled their resources, a ‘friend’ with connections might arrange a set of private rooms above a reputable tavern. Then that ‘friend’ could also supply the party with all the necessities of cheer, roasted capons, venison pies, sweet berry subtleties, and of course a goodly quantity of the finest sack. Also to complete the scene of Roman Idylls, a bevy of well disposed maidens skilled in harp and song would be at hand. Also for those wishing to compete in a gentlemanly fashion, there was bowls, or chancing the Hazards at dice or even the friendly card game of Ruff and Honour . In fact for accommodation, diversions, drink or provender, Ned reckoned he had it all covered, unless one of the more bucolic of the students began to pine for the dubious woolly pleasures of the country.

    After that pitch, Ned had laid out the final incentive – a spot at this magnificent repast could be had for the modest price of only one angel. The response had been astounding. Some thirty had handed over the required sum, while he’d accepted four shillings and a pledge from three more keen to join. That alone gave him a clear profit of ten angels after the expenses of room, company and provender, though the retention of one of