The Whispering Swarm

  From respect, I didn’t tell him I hadn’t exactly lost my faith first. Logic brought me to the assumption God was likely to exist. I wasn’t yet thirty, but speaking to a man allegedly born in the Middle Ages, who had lived through the Renaissance. Who even now was living in a time immediately before Newton! Newton, who practised alchemy, invented modern physics and had a profound belief in God. So a belief in materialism and science need not be incompatible with faith!

  From across the table Friar Aylwyn asked me respectfully, ‘Did you not believe in our common God, Master Moorcock? Were you an atheist?’

  ‘I was until recently, Brother Aylwyn. Now I think you could fairly call me a fellow traveller…’

  Master Elias smiled at this. ‘Brother Aylwyn, do you think it right that we query our friend’s beliefs when he supports ours with practical help?’

  A little bit ashamed, Aylwyn murmured an apology. ‘I have never known a man who did not believe,’ he said.

  ‘Perhaps you’d answer a couple of questions I have,’ I said.

  ‘Of course,’ said Father Grammaticus from the head of the table.

  ‘I don’t understand how Christian monks and Jewish rabbis can work together so closely. And weren’t there Moslems in the congregation earlier?’

  This was an easy one for the abbot. ‘We work together because we work for the Old Faith, which some call the Faith Undivided. We have no divisions concerning belief, but place value on our common understanding of God so that we may better do His will. We do not worship in the old, exclusive way. Only those uncertain of their beliefs insist on a single ritual. You have attended our services, Master Michael, and know we never refer to a specific prophet or embrace a single religion. It helped us that to the outside world we seemed to be following conventional Christianity. There were times, like now, when everything for which we work might have been utterly destroyed. Our fellow believers follow Islam, for instance, and others study the Hindu sutras or Buddhism, Shinto and other great religions of the world. We come together in secret to study all beliefs and take the best they offer. Once a faith becomes an organised religion it becomes a political system. We are pledged not to one religion, but to the spiritual core of all those religions, which agree on the profoundest levels.’

  I have to admit I agreed strongly that organised religion was no more than party politics. The spiritual aspect was always the first to be abandoned. ‘But why do you leave here now?’

  ‘It is time I spoke in person to a number of colleagues. I have things to discuss concerning our ultimate goals. The matter of High India, for instance, where we shall travel when the great day comes. Then there are the domestic issues. Some prepare to petition the Lord Protector, Oliver Cromwell, for Jews to be allowed to live and trade openly in England. We have every hope of success. In High India, the conference will determine many other issues.’

  Prince Rupert interjected. ‘Sadly, however, certain enemies learned of our intention. They are coarse, gullible people from all walks of life who believe we conspire with foreign kings to steal their power and steal their wealth. Cromwell’s advisors want to turn him against the Jews.’

  ‘When we learned the king’s ship went to Holland,’ added the abbot, ‘we begged Prince Rupert to take Master Elias.’

  ‘I had envisioned other circumstances than these.’ The prince spoke quietly. ‘But it is my privilege, sir. The journey is dangerous for all. Our musketeers offer you protection for the journey. They return to “The Winters”, as their own particular sanctuary in Paris is called. Our ship already waits in the Thames below the Tower. A Dutch brig, an English skipper and a mixed crew. She has an English name, I’m told. We must hope the ice is still thin once London Bridge is passed. The brig’ll send a longboat for us. All must be done swiftly in darkness. She’ll be stopped if our enemies have the chance.’

  ‘But you believe Cromwell is likely to be sympathetic to your cause,’ I said.

  ‘Cromwell, yes. As far as he understands it. And the majority of Puritans, too. But there are others, Catholics or political Anglicans like Colonel Clitch and his creature Love. They would stop us at every turn. They have already poisoned the minds of many Parliamentarians against us…’

  ‘I suppose you are selling your Treasure to help finance your other ventures?’

  At this everyone began to laugh and I was baffled. Seeing my expression, Father Grammaticus apologised. ‘I had forgotten not everyone knows the nature of the Treasure we have guarded here for some three hundred and fifty years.’

  ‘Well guarded, too, in spite of many rumours down the centuries,’ added Prince Rupert.

  ‘It’s very valuable, no doubt.’

  ‘No doubt.’ Father Grammaticus smiled. ‘Though we’d judge your manners poor if you continued to use the term “it”. I think it time I introduced our Treasure.’ The abbot rose from his seat and bowed to the ancient Jew. ‘Rabbi Elias here is our valued Treasure. We protect and defend him with every means available to us. We have no Treasure as valuable as Rabbi Elias!’

  52

  SOLDIERS AT THE GATES

  ‘Now we are pledged to take this Treasure to Amsterdam,’ said Prince Rupert. ‘There I shall leave him when I travel to Paris to give my sad news to the queen and her family.’

  ‘But why take me with you?’ I asked.

  ‘You are no longer safe in London. Both Nixer and Marvell know you. Duval and his men will return here to carry on the fight. And there is a big fight coming, believe me.’

  I thought of the children. I simply couldn’t go. I might never return. These assumptions had to be nipped in the bud.

  Already Father Grammaticus was continuing. ‘You possess the so-called witch sight. You are one capable of seeing all there is to see in our crowded universe. It’s in your blood, Michael.’

  ‘Like an inherited disease?’

  I had no particular wish to stay in London, since Helena had made it clear I had no home with her. I decided to keep my own counsel. I had told few about my family. If the situation changed, I would behave according to my instinct.

  The conversation became a bit cryptic after that.

  ‘You saw the prince’s orrery,’ I heard Friar Erasmus say. ‘No dark matter or light can exist in the Grey Fees. That fog! I tell you it is godless Limbo, pure and simple. Without time, without physicality, without, we believe, any higher being of any kind.’

  ‘Without hope, by the sound of it,’ I said.

  ‘We don’t think so. Anything sent to Limbo or even coming into existence there returns as long as it obeys certain conditions.’

  ‘No light can enter. No anti-light or dark aether can enter. It is only possible to leave!’ said an older rabbi I had been told was Meinheer Uriah of Bruges.

  They looked to the prince and the abbot for confirmation but all Prince Rupert would do was sit back in his chair and quote a piece of verse:

  ‘All th’unruly hordes of heaven

  Came in concourse to salvation

  All the whispering swarm created

  Call to thee in unison…’

  I had never heard the verse before, but at the mention of a whispering swarm I grew alert. This was the first time I’d heard the phrase. Of course I applied it at once to my own experience and butted in somewhat rudely.

  ‘I’m sorry, Prince Rupert,’ I said, ‘but did you say whispering swarm?’

  ‘Oh, it’s just a reference to the gossiping mob. A bit of verse by a common enemy!’

  ‘I’ve heard that Swarm.’ I was barely able to keep my trembling hands still. Was this a reference at last to some shared experience? ‘I hear it almost every time I leave the Alsacia. What is it?’

  The prince merely looked mildly embarrassed. ‘It might be something of our enemy who sits drinking in the inn across the way.’

  ‘Captain St Claire? He’s still here?’

  ‘Aye. His companions are nothing more than taproom bravos but Mr Andrew Marvell, as he’s otherwise known, is a man of s
ome gifts.’

  I’d heard of Andrew Marvell, of course. A Cromwellian. That would explain his interest in the Alsacia and why he wanted to overhear Prince Rupert when he demonstrated his orrery. He certainly was not a common spy. He was an educated eye. A knowing ear. What else had I inadvertently told him? How much had he passed on to Cromwell and how much had he kept to himself?

  ‘Marvell’s surely an adept of some kind. He knows of the silver way.’ Friar Balthazar frowned. ‘And plans to betray us?’

  ‘How could he betray us?’ Rupert asked. ‘What could he tell Cromwell which the Lord Protector does not already know? What could he show him that he would believe? Or condemn as Satan’s illusion?’

  ‘What does Cromwell know? More than we guessed?’ The abbot smiled at the table in general, seeking to reassure us. ‘He wants what we possess. I think he fears it. Or covets it. Or both.’

  ‘You’ll be able to tell when he makes his next assault,’ said Rupert grimly. ‘Perhaps you should all abandon this place and settle in some other?’

  ‘Your Grace forgets,’ the abbot said, ‘Cromwell has no personal knowledge of the Sanctuary. The Protector relies on the reports of creatures like Nixer, who has certain crude abilities. Nixer, Love and company fear what we hide and what we know. Most outsiders believe the Alsacia to be no more than a den of common thieves and renegade royalists. Cromwell would destroy us on principle. He’s never seen us yet he allows Nixer and others to pursue their ends as part of a general policy to attack London’s rookeries. Sadly, his natural instincts never let him believe in the Sanctuary for what we know it truly to be!’

  I hoped then that he might expand a bit on what the Sanctuary actually was but Prince Rupert interrupted. He was still uncomfortable. He was lost in his own thoughts. ‘A poet,’ he murmured, ‘and a swordsman. An intelligencer for Cromwell, too! That could be a dangerous mix. I saw such a creature in my last full reading.’

  ‘Reading? You’re familiar with the tarot, my lord?’

  He shrugged. ‘A little. I was thinking on how we are compromised. Can we be followed? If so, who would follow us?’

  ‘I believe Captain Marvell is able to see and use the silver roads,’ I said. ‘Probably in a limited way.’

  ‘Aye, ’tis possible. He’s an alchemist of sorts, I hear, an adept and an Oxford scholar. What did he say to you, lad?’

  ‘He spoke poetically. He talked about everywhere around us being deserts of vast eternity. I thought the vision a bit bleak.’

  ‘Well, if he knows certain routes and is a good poet, he speaks truth of sorts,’ said Master Elias. ‘Poets can be seers. My great-uncle, for instance. If he’s a genuine poet and no mere versifier, we should perhaps believe him. He has power. His words resonate. Yes, we must be very wary of your Mr Marvell. Where is he now?’

  ‘We left him in the Swan,’ said Prince Rupert, rising. ‘Come, Master Moorcock. We must confront him, I think. It might be necessary to make him our permanent prisoner.’

  Friar Erasmus looked up. ‘Could that duty not be left to us?’

  ‘There are three practised swordsmen there,’ Prince Rupert warned him. ‘My musketeers already await. No, Brother, I think we had best be on hand in case there is violence.’

  Erasmus turned away with a faint smile. Prince Rupert’s lips were pinched and his eyes narrowed. I had learned from this expression that he anticipated trouble but didn’t know if he had the means to deal with it. He picked up his sword and pistols from where he had left them outside the dining room. I wished I had brought a weapon as we left the abbey. I took big strides to keep up with him.

  ‘They are only three. They can’t be much of a danger to us, surely?’ I caught my breath.

  ‘It depends on the men they have ready, what he knows, and if he knows what that means. I did not see him for an adept.’ Prince Rupert reached the door of the Swan and paused. ‘Don’t let them suspect I am taking action against them,’ he murmured. ‘And stay clear, lad. You’re keen but you’re no swashbuckler.’ With me behind him he pushed the door open, to step inside.

  The place was very busy. I saw no sign of Marvell and his uncouth companions. We searched every possible part of the inn. But they had gone. When we found Mr Toom he told us they had abandoned their weapons. They remained piled on the bar where, as Toom pointed out, they could have retrieved them if they so wanted. They had left at least a half hour since. There was nothing we could do. Our plans were not clear even to the musketeers. ‘We had thought it your strategy to let them go,’ said Athos. Duval had taken the injured Nevison into the saloon bar to separate him from the three interlopers. I was the sole person amongst our band Prince Rupert had taken into his confidence.

  Again we all spoke in French.

  ‘I supposed them trounced,’ said Porthos. ‘I did not understand they were in need of a further trouncing.’

  ‘Alors!’ Athos dabbed at one eye with a soft glove. ‘I was for finishing them. Why did you not let me challenge them, Aramis? While they were here?’

  ‘Because I understood we were not to indulge in brawling in an inn protected by the prince!’ Aramis spoke with familiar dry wit. ‘Believe me, Your Highness, we should have enjoyed nothing more than to engage your king’s enemies. But I understood—’

  ‘You were right. You were right.’ The prince drew in a great breath and let it out again. ‘Well, they’re gone, maybe for reinforcements. I still don’t fathom their game. My guess is that they suspect a plot by us to introduce more than one king’s double. They were here to make certain they had indeed killed the king and not some second substitute. I doubt they’ll be back before we leave. Marvell’s to be feared but the other two are mere flotsam in his wake. Hurry. We must prepare. Gather here. This is the right moment to go. We’ll take our charges to the ship as soon as we’re all assembled.’

  While he climbed stairs to his room I returned to the abbey and told them to prepare. Then I went to my cell. I got into some suitably warm clothes, wishing I, too, had a sword and pistols at my side, then returned to the chapel where several of the rabbis already waited. Soon the other travellers were gathered. Chief Rabbi Elias was the last to join the group of rabbis. Just as we prepared to set off for the Swan and meet Prince Rupert, an anxious monk ran in.

  ‘I think we are attacked again, Father Abbot. Armed men at the main gates. About thirty or more led by that Mr Marvell we thought a friend. What shall we do?’

  ‘Only one thing for it.’ Father Grammaticus was grave. ‘You, Brother Michael, make speed with Master Elias and our fellows. Tell Prince Rupert what has happened. We’ll delay these others as best we can. We are all expert swordsmen and pistoleers when needed. Go—and may our Lord’s grace go with you!’

  Somehow I found myself outside the abbey helping six bearded Jewish rabbis bundle Master Elias, their Chief Rabbi, into a heavy sea-cloak and then get him into a sedan chair. I was tempted to pick the old man up bodily, since he seemed so light, but I was too respectful to suggest it. So we crept along at his speed, with many glances behind us, and reached the Swan just as we saw the gates of the Sanctuary swing open to reveal Messrs Marvell, Clitch and Love at the head of at least a score of heavily armed redcoat troopers.

  We couldn’t risk the Chief Rabbi being harmed. Rather than obeying our natural instincts, we turned for the Swan just as Prince Rupert, the four musketeers and Claude Duval ran out with their scabbarded swords and sword belts still in their hands. The Frenchmen had their muskets on their backs. I was still unarmed. Seeing this, D’Artagnan darted back into the inn and re-emerged with one of the blades, a musket and a pistol surrendered by Marvell and Co. With him, struggling into his own harness, came Nick Nevison.

  ‘What’s the rush?’ Nevison asked me, slipping his belt over his shoulder and settling his sword at his side. Then he saw them all slowly filing in through the big gate. ‘Ha! Well, I’ve looked forward to dealing with them! We have you now, Mephistopheles!’

  Duval growled. ‘You’re no
t well enough, Nick. Let them nurse you at the tavern!’

  Nevison’s glare of contempt silenced the rumpad captain who shrugged and readied himself to run at the redcoats. Prince Rupert halted Duval. ‘We need to make speed, old friend. Come, there’ll be plenty of enemies to engage later. Our duty is to get our Treasure aboard Sprye’s brig. Others will stop those lads!’

  ‘Others?’ Duval adjusted his hat. ‘There’s barely a dozen Cavaliers in the house and they’re in poor condition for a fight.’

  As if on cue the monks of Whitefriars Abbey appeared between us and the Roundheads. I thought at first I witnessed some kind of Gandhi-like demonstration. Then I noticed what the monks had in their hands. Forming a line between us and Marvell’s men each monk flourished a large pistol in one fist and a heavy sword in the other.

  ‘Those poor creatures are good as dead!’ exclaimed Porthos.

  ‘Make haste!’ cried Rupert urgently. ‘There really is little time. Marvell and his men got what they wanted from us. They know our plans!’

  Abandoning the monks and hearing their first shots in defence of the Sanctuary we rushed down into the maze of streets where the Whitefriars Old Stairs waited for us.

  53

  ACROSS THE ICE!

  As we ran down to the river, the rabbis took turns to carry a sedan chair probably heavier than its occupant. I heard gunfire behind me, the urgent cries of battling men and the sound of metal striking metal as swords met pikes.

  I still found it hard to accept that Marvell had been intriguing against us from the very first moment we’d met. We had bonded in our view of the world. He had seemed so generous, so friendly. I had been certain he liked me as much as I liked him. What other betrayals should I have anticipated? Moll’s treachery still hurt worse but now, if I hated anyone, it was Marvell. Otherwise I was now thoroughly wrapped up in the adventure though I knew it to be very dangerous, even lethal. Should I, the father of two young children, risk my life so readily for what might be a delusion? Probably not, though I’d scarcely had much choice in the matter.