Angels

bottom of the steps, climbing them until he reached the Chamberlain. As he reached the top, he knelt.

  The Chamberlain lifted the Sword Of Command from the cushion, pointing it skywards. He held the position for several seconds as the crowds cheered. At the height of the noise he brought the sword down and held it in both hands, offering it to Frederick.

  Frederick took the sword, symbolising the transfer of power back to the Emperor, and he stood, turning to face the crowd. As he did so he thrust the sword upward, and the crowd cheered as one in a noise louder than any that he heard so far. He looked around the sea of faces, the eyes wide and bright. He was home.

  When the noise had abated a little, he turned to face the Chamberlain, climbing the remaining few steps, until he was level with him.

  'It's good to see you home safe, Sire,' Courtenay said.

  'As it is to see you, My Lord,' Frederick leaned close. 'Convene the Council of Governors. There are serious matters to discuss and we have very little time to waste on any more ceremony.'

  Courtenay nodded, taking the sword from Frederick before setting off up the steps towards the Palace.

  Frederick looked across at Kateryn. He had seen her watching him out of the corner of his eye and she was smiling. Tears filled her eyes and she had a look of pride as well as excitement on her face. She skipped across the steps to join him and as she reached him, Frederick lifted her and spun her around, finally pulling her tight in a hug as he kissed her. The backdrop of the square, the crowds, and the noise faded away as the two slipped into their own private world for a moment. There were no citizens, no guards, and it was as if they were the only two left in the world.

  'You know what?' Kateryn said, while Frederick still held her tightly. She looked up into his eyes.

  'What?'

  'I always knew you would be good with children,' she said.

  oOo

  There was no point in Winterburne staying out in the street any longer, the parade had passed, and people were beginning to disperse, faces excited and smiling. He headed back to the Watch House. A few of the younger citizens still waved their flags, while others combed the refuse for any lost valuables or anything else they could keep and sell on, most likely. But that was not a bad thing, it would make it slightly less for the cleaning gangs to deal with.

  At least there had been no trouble that he was aware of, he told himself. His men knew where he had been stationed and they would have come to find him in an emergency so all must be good with the world. His throat was dry, and his stomach grumbled with hunger as he stepped up on the porch and pushed the door open.

  Waiting for him in the hallway were the Sergeant and Watchman Roland. Winterburne suspected that Moore had been waiting ages for him to return, he had certainly not seen him approach the Headquarters and the man's face glowed with pride.

  'Sir?' Moore asked. 'Who would you say was the biggest perpetrator of crime in this great city of ours?'

  'I've no idea, Sergeant.' Winterburne could well do without this right now. 'I'm really not in the mood to play guessing games, I'm tired, my feet are killing me and I want to sit down.'

  'It's Luke Vawdrey, Sir.'

  'What?' To the best of Winterburne's knowledge, the boy was not the person highest on his most wanted list, more of a nuisance than a hardened criminal. 'You are trying to make a joke, I assume.'

  'No, Sir,' Moore said.

  He looked offended by the merest suggestion that he might not have acted professionally.

  'I'm deadly serious, Sir,' he continued. 'According to the records, Sir, he is a one man crime wave. I reckon we've wasted more Watch time on him in the last year than any other single criminal. In fact, that is a fact, Sir, I checked it myself, and that's a fact.'

  Winterburne rolled his eyes. 'But he's just a boy, Sergeant.' Moore had well and truly outdone himself this time.

  'Well he's a one boy crime wave, then, Sir.' A wide grin crossed Moore's face. 'Well, guess what? I've got him in a cell downstairs, Sir.'

  'You've what?'

  'Guilty of at least two counts of stealing from the market he is, Sir, and one count of pickpocketing. I saw him taking the stuff from the market myself. The latter was this very afternoon, during the parade. Caught him red-handed, I did.' Moore saluted as he completed the list of charges. 'And there will have been lots more. Bound to be only the tip of the haystack, Sir.'

  Winterburne continued to walk along the corridor, aiming for his office, and a stiff drink. 'And what would you have me do with Master Vawdrey, Sergeant?'

  Moore looked surprised by the question. 'Well, hang him, Sir.'

  Winterburne stopped and gazed up at the ceiling. He squeezed the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. It helped sometimes, when he felt particularly stressed. 'Sergeant,' he replied, 'we stopped hanging children two hundred years ago.'

  'But, Sir, he's almost at the age of responsibility, though.'

  Winterburne shook his head. 'And that age is, Sergeant?'

  'Sixteen, Sir.'

  Winterburne felt even more exasperated. 'And he is how old, Sergeant?

  'Eleven, Sir.'

  'Eleven, Sergeant.'

  'Yes, Sir,' Moore replied, 'but trust me, Sir, he knows exactly what he's doing.'

  Winterburne shook his head again, and sighed. He reached out for the handle of his door. 'Fetch him up, and bring him to my office,' he said.

  oOo

  Ten minutes later, Moore pushed Luke Vawdrey through the open doorway to Winterburne's office.

  'Get in there, boy,' Moore said. 'And you can stand to attention for the Captain.'

  Luke skulked across the room and stood in front of Winterburne's desk. He looked down at the floor. The boy was a pathetic sight, dressed in his rags and his face and hands were dirty. He wore no shoes and Winterburne couldn't help feeling somewhat sorry for him.

  'Well, Master Vawdrey,' he said, looking the boy up and down. 'What am I going to do with you?'

  Luke shrugged his shoulders, as he continued to look down.

  'So,' Winterburne said, 'what do you have to say for yourself?'

  Luke slowly lifted his eyes to look at Winterburne, but remained silent.

  Moore stepped forward. 'Only too quick to open your mouth earlier, weren't you?' he said. 'Different story now, ain't it?'

  Winterburne glared at Moore and as he realised his indiscretion the Sergeant stepped away from the two of them. He looked back at Luke. 'Tell me why I shouldn't have you flogged with the cat, then locked in the stocks for two days with no food or water.'

  Luke's eyes opened wide. 'Would you really have that done to me?'

  'Absolutely,' Winterburne said. He had always found that this particular threat tended to work, especially on the younger offenders, and it was one of his personal favourites. 'After all, it is the prescribed punishment for pickpockets. Especially, those that I'm not allowed to hang,' he paused and glowered at the boy, 'yet,' he added.

  Luke's eyes were wide open and large silent tears ran down his face. The boy raised his hand to wiped them away, only succeeding in smearing the dirt across his cheeks.

  'There's no point crying, boy,' Moore said. 'The Captain will make sure that you'll get what you deserve.'

  Winterburne held up his hand to silence the Sergeant once more. 'Tell me, Master Vawdrey,' he said, as he walked around to the front of the desk, 'why do you feel it necessary to break the law? Constantly?'

  The boy was silent, his lips tightly sealed.

  'Well,' Winterburne said, 'speak up, or you'll be put back in the cells for a day or two to think about it some more.'

  Luke sniffed and raised his eyes. 'I do it for my mother.'

  The boy's brown soulful eyes were big and round and Winterburne could feel them burning into him. He found himself starting to feel very sorry for the boy.

  'Don't fall for that one, Sir,' Moore said, 'he'll have been practising that one for months.'

  'Thank you, Sergeant,' Winterburne replied, 'leav
e this to me.' He looked back at Luke and perched himself on the edge of his desk. 'What do you mean?' His voice had become softer.

  Luke sniffed and wiped his eyes again. 'She doesn't know I steal.' He fidgeted on the spot. 'She thinks the money I bring home is what I've earned helping in the market, or down the docks. But I don't know my letters, see, so no one will give me decent work. It's the only way I know to earn enough extra. I don't really want to do it, but I don't know what else to do.'

  'And what does your father say?'

  'Don't have one.'

  Winterburne paused. He was surprised to hear that. It might certainly explain what seemed to be an apparent lack of discipline in the boy's life, and mothers could be somewhat gullible when it came to their sons, he knew that. 'What would your mother say if she knew you stole?'

  'She would be angry.'

  'I shouldn't wonder.'

  'She always says that I'm the man of the house now,' the boy said, raising himself to his full height. 'It's only her and me. I'm only trying to keep us fed and warm the best way that I know how. It's been hard for her since my father died.'

  It always amazed Winterburne that the strongest people in their hearts were often the weakest in body, and despite the fact that the boy was breaking the law, he considered that resourcefulness could always be found in the most unlikely of places.

  'Sometimes, when my mother hasn't been able to earn enough money,' Luke said, 'it's the only way we can get something to eat.' Winterburne stood and walked back to his chair. He sat, resting his elbows on the desk, looking Luke up and down. 'I like you, Luke,' he said, 'and deep down I think there might just be a good boy in there somewhere struggling to get out.'

  The dark eyes in a brown streaked face looked back at him.

  Winterburne watched Luke for some time, pondering what to do next.

  'Against my better judgement,' he said, 'I'm going to give you a chance, boy.' He held the arms of the chair and pushed himself upright. 'I'm putting you on probation. But, remember this,' he paused, pointing his index finger directly at Luke, 'the next time you do something wrong, I will hit you with the full force of the law.' He thumped the desk with his fist and Luke jumped, startled. 'Do you understand?'

  'Yes, Sir.'

  'Good.' Winterburne sat again. He looked over at Moore who had been watching him open-mouthed from the side of the room. 'Did you get his address, Sergeant?'

  'Um! Not yet, Sir, no.'

  'Then do it,' he said, looking back at Luke, 'so that we can track him down when I've decided what we should do with him. Then, Sergeant, you can get Master Vawdrey out of my sight.'

  7

  'What a mess,' Cromwell said, as he looked up and down the main street assessing the aftermath of the day's celebrations. 'There's flowers and rubbish all over the place. There are even flowers floating in the harbour so Heaven knows how they’ll get those out.'

  Winterburne chuckled. Cromwell never seemed to see the bright side of life and he always worried about the least important thing. 'Don’t be such a spoiler,' he said. 'The people had a good day, there was no trouble worth the mention, and the Emperor was duly glorified. In anyone's book that's got to be a result all around, I should think.'

  'I suppose so, Sir,' Cromwell said, shaking his head, 'but it just seems such a waste of everyone's time and effort.'

  'Well, you know what they say?'

  'No, Sir.'

  'That we are only here to do our Lord's bidding,' Winterburne smiled at him before continuing, 'not necessarily to understand the reasoning behind such things.' He recognised that look on Cromwell's face. The man's unique perspective on life always meant that he could cope with the most major of events with no problems, but the smallest detail could really throw him.

  'Anyway,' Winterburne said, 'there were no shortage of takers for the clean up brigade, and, I’m pretty sure most of the townspeople who did volunteer could do with the gold coin the Emperor was offering for the evening's labour.'

  The clean-up duty had