Doctor Who_ The Hollow Men - Keith Topping [1]
His eyes were a piercing green.
„Joseph Jowett?‟ asked the innkeeper, nervously. „Been a long time. Never thought I‟d see thee back in these parts.‟
„Aye,‟ said Jowett. „Nor I, Tom Spence.‟ He paused and looked around the tavern‟s dingy interior, moving to the fire to warm his hands. „My master will stay in thy finest room this night.‟
A look of unreasoning terror crossed Spence‟s face. „Tell thy master, Joseph Jowett, that „e ain‟t welcome in this place,‟ he stammered.
Jowett looked up with an expression of plain amusement on his face. „Hear that, Richard?‟ he asked his companion, who was also chuckling to himself. „We‟re to tell the master that Tom Spence o‟ Hexen Bridge don‟t want the King‟s Men in his tavern.‟
„Sirs, I never did mean to say -‟
„Good,‟ snapped Jowett. „Because my master don‟t take kindly to having his custom refused by the likes of „ee, Tom Spence.‟
„Aye,‟ said Richard, whose gruff accent indicated the north country. „He has been known to end a man‟s livelihood over such an impoliteness. And he must be to his bed afore night is come, or there shall be grave retribution.‟
Spence turned, calling into the kitchens. A young serving girl bearing a lantern appeared, and she began to question the innkeeper‟s whispered instructions. „Taint no business o‟
thine,‟ he snapped angrily. „The gentleman commands chambers and victuals.‟
She hurried off towards the stairs.
„Hold,‟ said Jowett. He strode across the hushed room, and turned the girl‟s face towards him. „What be thy name, girl?‟
„Sarah Hatch, sir,‟ she said, quickly, averting her eyes from Jowett‟s piercing gaze. There was a slight quiver in her thickly accented voice.
„Ah,‟ said the man. „Hear that, Richard?‟ he asked, to his companion‟s obvious amusement. „Sarah Hatch, eh?‟ He looked her up and down with a lascivious grin, then grasped her slender arm tightly, causing her to wince in pain. „You‟re all skin and bone, Sarah Hatch. B‟ain‟t no meat on „ee, least ways not enough for the King‟s Bull to go hunting for rabbits, eh? Eh?‟ He sniggered across the tavern to his friend, then returned his attention to the girl. „Be kind to old Joseph, and ye shall have a shilling.‟ He paused. „Be thy mother‟s name Mary?‟
The girl nodded, mute with fear.
„Aye. The resemblance is plain. She was a fine, strapping woman, your ma. Tell „er Joseph Jowett o‟ Hodcombe was asking after „er.‟
„That I will, sir,‟ said Sarah, pulling free of Jowett and hurrying up the stairs, the candle sputtering and dying as her movement extinguished it.
„Buxom girl, that Mary Hatch,‟ Jowett said to no one in particular. „Knew „er since she was no bigger‟n a sparrow.‟
„She‟s old and sick now, Joseph,‟ said Spence. „These years ain‟t been kind to her.‟
„They ain‟t been kind to any of us,‟ added Jowett sadly.
„Cept for the master.‟ He looked over to Richard and nodded towards the door. „Bring „im to this place.‟
„Who be this master he speaks of?‟ Long John asked the innkeeper in a whisper.
„The most evil man on God‟s earth,‟ replied Tom Spence.
„The infamous Jeffreys.‟
* * *
He was not at all how other men imagined him. The tales of Baron George Jeffreys of Wem had made him a legend in his own lifetime. To those of London, terrified by Monmouth‟s West Country rebellion, he was a figure of charm and grace, a godly man who carried out the wishes of his King, ridding the nation of sedition and treason. To those in the south-west he was a vile, murderous dog; the killer of Titus Oates and Richard Baxter; the man who had hanged, whipped, fined and transported hundreds of their number - miners and farmers mostly - in a vengeful parody of justice.
„God save the King,‟ said Jeffreys as he entered the tavern with Richard and four others of his retinue. He was a slight man, in his late thirties, wearing a dark coat, jerkin and long-sleeved blouse, and leather breeches. There was a trace of rural Welsh in his accent.
„Aye,‟ said Tom Spence. „God save „im.‟
Everyone else in the tavern stood, respectfully, as the judge entered. He looked