History Keepers: Nightship to China (11 page)

Now Jake understood why the rich took taxis. London Bridge was a bottleneck of carts and carriages, their wheels rattling on cobbles, along with foot travellers and herds of cattle and pigs, all trying to funnel through. The queues snaked back for miles.

Jake gazed around, taking in all the sights and sounds. He could hear foreign voices – a group of Frenchmen were deep in discussion about the prices of the inns, and a pair in turbans and long robes spoke in an unfamiliar dialect as they unpacked bolts of cloth from a wagon.

‘Here is all the world . . .’ Topaz swept her hand along the highway. ‘Africans, Italians, Dutch, Persians and Moroccans; visiting, living, sightseeing.’

Rich and poor jostled side by side. They saw an aristocrat’s coach drawn by four white mares, its roof laden with trunks and caskets. A man in a feathered cap peered out at the mayhem through curtained windows, while his wife held a nosegay to her face. There were farmers with loads of vegetables, herbs and fresh flowers, and traders carrying pewter, tin, candles and books. There were young men on horseback and beggars ambling along barefoot. On each side, innkeepers and ostlers plied their trade, and locals played at cards and dice or smoked tobacco from clay pipes.

At last they turned into a wide road that ran parallel to the river. It was less frenetic here, peopled mostly by well-dressed Londoners. Like the rake on the pier, many of the men strutted like peacocks, chins up to display their oversized ruffs, their swords hanging down behind them, some so long they dragged in the mud.

‘Length of sword,’ Topaz explained, ‘is one of those ridiculous status symbols in Elizabethan London.’ Nathan slyly checked his own, pushing his belt down so that the tip of his scabbard caught on the ground.

Here they passed shop after shop: jewellers, glass-makers, glove-makers, embroiderers, silversmiths, apothecaries and furriers. Jake noticed one window stacked with scientific instruments and another with a giant golden tureen filled to the brim with peppercorns.

‘In case you were wondering,’ Nathan said, ‘the pepper costs ten times more than the gold. These are crazy times.’

The next shop was a cartographer’s; a large map in the window showed the misshapen continents of Europe, with Asia and America either side. A sign next to it read:
ENTER TO DISCOVER THE NEWE WORLDE
. Around it, there were pictures of mythical beasts – unicorns and winged tigers.

Ahead, a throng of people jostled and shouted as they queued up outside a bow-fronted store. Two elderly ladies in fur-trimmed coats almost came to blows over who was the first in line. Jake craned his neck to see the object of their fascination.

‘Porcelain,’ Topaz told him. ‘There is no greater obsession in the west than porcelain from China. In fact,
everything
from China: silk, nutmeg and, of course, the drink of the century – of the whole modern age – tea.’

Jake got a glimpse of the blue and white ware, of the frantic shoppers and the besieged assistants. It looked like Christmas in Oxford Street, and he realized that people’s habits changed very little through time.

‘And that, if I am not mistaken’ – Topaz pointed to a building looming ahead of them – ‘is the headquarters of the East India Company. It was founded just over ten years ago, but it’s already one of the richest companies in the world.’ There were four storeys of mullioned windows rising up like a medieval skyscraper; but more eye-catching still was the giant coat of arms stamped in the centre, and the mural above it – a galleon. The
pièce de résistance
was a larger-than-life statue of a voyager astride two dolphins.

The three youngsters were struck by the ostentation of the thing. ‘What’s amazing,’ Topaz said, ‘is that buildings like this are going up all over the world, from Amsterdam to Cairo to Canton. This is the age of trade.’

Nathan checked his bearings, then led them into a labyrinth of narrow streets. ‘This is where things get a little more pungent,’ he said, holding his nose. The roads – now little more than dirt tracks – were slimy with refuse, though a network of planks made walking a little easier. Overhead, the crooked houses hung right over, leaving just a thin band of sky. A window opened above them, and a hand emerged to empty a chamber pot, its gloopy contents narrowly missing Nathan as they splattered down.

‘Don’t you just
love
those reconstituted chestnuts?’ he muttered, stepping gingerly past.

At last they came out onto the waterfront again. Jake scanned the river. Dusk was falling and the watermen, their boats lit by lanterns, glided across in every direction. Jake couldn’t get used to this city – so different from the London he knew. It seemed incredible that nearly all this would be washed away by history. He could see the Globe more clearly now, its white walls luminous against the crimson sky. ‘On Bankside, on the
south
of the river,’ Topaz explained, ‘the laws are different, less strict – so that’s where most Londoners go to amuse themselves. That’s the bear-baiting pit just behind the theatre.’

‘Bear-baiting?’ Jake asked.

‘
C’est barbare
.’ Topaz shook her head. ‘They tie up a poor animal – having filed down its teeth – and set wild dogs on it, while everyone bets on the winner. And it’s right next to one of the greatest theatres in all history. That’s civilization for you . . . Don’t ever get Charlie started on the subject!’

Nathan turned the map round. ‘As far as I can make out, it’s one of those buildings there,’ he said, nodding upstream towards a row of five stately houses that looked over the Thames. Light could be seen in most of the windows, and smoke came from at least two of the chimneys, but the
middle
one was completely dark.

They made their way through another maze of streets to a quiet road that ran along the backs of the mansions. It was lined with huge horse chestnut trees that seemed to swallow the sounds of the metropolis.

‘It seems there’s no one at home,’ Nathan said as they approached the gated portico of the third house along, a grand red-brick building with two gabled towers facing the river at either end. The mullioned windows were large – particularly on the first floor – making the darkness inside all the more intriguing.

‘Look,’ said Topaz, ‘a coat of arms.’ Above them, half hidden amongst the ivy, was a stone emblem, recently carved: two dragons on either side of a shield. The latter was divided into four squares with a symbol in each: a ship, a trident, an eye – and an octopus. Jake’s stomach clenched at the sight of Xi Xiang’s symbol.

‘Shall we . . .?’ said Nathan, pulling himself up the wall onto the roof of the portico and jumping down the other side.

Topaz shook her head. ‘I distinctly remember the commander putting me in charge,’ she said, leaping after him. ‘Jake? Are you coming?’ she asked through the bars.

Jake was lost in thought, staring at the house, wondering what secrets it might contain, and whether he might find any clues about Philip. He came back to the present and quickly followed them over the wall.

They crept towards one of the ground-floor windows and squinted inside. They needed no further proof that the house was deserted: all the furniture was covered with dust sheets. It looked like a gathering of ghosts. They slipped round into an overgrown garden that led down to the river.

As Nathan examined the front door – a mammoth slab of oak – Jake followed a path towards the water, his feet crunching on the gravel. He soon came to a gate that led down to a little jetty, and heard a splashing close by; he realized that a rowing boat was heading towards him. It contained a single occupant: a girl, with her back to Jake. He beckoned to the others.

‘There’s someone coming,’ he whispered. The three of them ducked down behind a hedge. They heard the boat thump against the jetty, and a moment later the girl came into view. She followed the path, a wooden bucket in her hand, unlocked the front door and disappeared into the house.

‘Some kind of housekeeper, by the look of things,’ Nathan suggested. ‘Let’s see what she knows.’ He drew his sword, signalled to the others and tiptoed back towards the mansion.

Topaz looked at Jake, exasperated. ‘
Qu’est-ce qu’il a?
What is it that he can’t understand about the fact that I’m in charge?’

They hurried after him, and saw that flickering light now illuminated the hall windows; again, they peered inside.

‘What in God’s name . . .!’ Nathan exclaimed. The girl was standing on top of a set of steps; they could see her frightened face as she tipped the contents of her bucket – a mélange of shrimps and snapping crabs – through a funnel into a large fish tank containing a live octopus. The creature peeled its tentacles off the glass and started devouring its meal, drilling through a crab shell and sucking out the flesh.

‘I hate those things,’ Topaz muttered, shuddering.

‘I think it looks rather sweet,’ Nathan said with a shrug. ‘Apparently they’re fantastically intelligent. My aunt had one who used to play chess with her.’

Topaz ignored him and strode into the house, sword drawn. The girl saw her, lost her balance and toppled to the floor in fright, scattering the contents of her bucket.

‘We’re not going to hurt you,’ Topaz reassured her, advancing with her sword up, ‘providing you help us with what we need.’ At this moment, the octopus smacked a tentacle against the glass, eyeing Topaz as if she might be its next meal.

‘O-of course,’ the girl stammered. ‘I’ll help you. Have I done something wrong?’

Topaz turned to Nathan and Jake. ‘Would you sort out the seafood?’ she said, gesticulating towards the wriggling things on the floor. The boys duly obeyed, gingerly picking up the crabs and prawns and replacing them in the bucket.

Topaz began her cross-examination: ‘Is there anyone else in the house?’ The girl shook her head. ‘You’re absolutely certain?’ A vehement nod. ‘What’s your name?’

‘I am Bess, miss.’

‘And do you work here, Bess?’

‘I come sometimes to feed the . . .’ She motioned towards the octopus. From the look on her face, she hated the creature as much as Topaz did.

‘
Sometimes?
’

‘If the master is here, I do not come. Otherwise I am sent word and I come in the evening. I received word today.’

‘And your last visit?’

‘A week ago?’

‘So we’re to assume your master has been here in that time?’

The girl shrugged. ‘I do not know. I have met him only once.’

‘And have you any idea when he will be back? We noticed that the furniture has been covered, so perhaps it will be longer this time?’

‘Perhaps, yes.’

‘Topaz, behind you,’ Nathan called over breezily.

She turned to find two of the octopus’s arms swinging towards her, having slipped up the funnel. She caught her breath as one suddenly brushed against her face. She swiped it away, only just resisting the temptation to slice it in two with her sword. ‘Will you please put it back?’ she said, quickly wiping the sticky residue off her cheek. ‘The only thing I hate more is eels.’

Nathan came to her aid, chuckling.

‘I don’t laugh at your ridiculous superstitions about ghosts,’ she snapped. ‘Why should my dislike of octopuses be funny?’

‘Because ghosts are real. Octopuses are just . . . fish with ambition.’

Jake was examining a large portrait at the foot of the main staircase. ‘Is this your master, Bess?’ he asked.

‘I believe so,’ she replied, trembling with fear.

The three agents stared at the painting.

‘No doubt about it,’ Topaz muttered grimly. ‘It’s him . . .’

THE PORTRAIT SHOWED
two figures – one in the foreground, the other standing in his shadow behind. It was exquisitely painted, as fine as any old master Jake had seen on trips to the National Gallery.

‘That’s Xi Xiang?’ he asked, pointing at the principal subject. His friends nodded in unison.

‘The commander was right,’ Nathan whispered. ‘This is where he’s been hiding – for some of the time, at any rate.’

Jake inspected the painting. He knew little about Xi Xiang physically – other than the astounding fact that he had three eyes! The portrait confirmed it. His right eye was normal, his left was slightly squeezed up into his brow, while below it, his third eye, blank and deformed like a rotten mussel, peered out of his cheek. Despite the disfigurement, or perhaps even because of it, Xi Xiang had an impish, gloating smile on his face.

His cheeks were rouged like a clown, and he wore a costume of turquoise, gold and crimson, emblazoned with motifs of sea dragons and fish. The long sleeves hung loosely, hiding his hands – though on closer inspection, Jake noticed a knife protruding from one of the cuffs.

His companion, standing behind, was a slight, stooped old woman whose stern gaze was just as arresting as his. She wore a black gown, and her hands were cupped together as if in prayer, though she was actually clutching an upright sword. Sticking out under her robe – the only flash of colour – was a pair of red slippers.

‘Do you know who the woman is?’ Jake asked.

‘I’ve never seen a picture of her before,’ Nathan replied, ‘but I can guess. I believe it’s Madame Fang, Xi’s nanny.’

‘His
what
?’

‘His only friend in the world,’ Topaz butted in. ‘She’s been his protector since he was born. The story goes that, when Xi was twelve, she helped him drown his own parents at a seaside picnic. Such a charming pair.’

Jake asked her, ‘Didn’t Xi Xiang work for the History Keepers when he was younger?’

‘He did,’ she replied, ‘but no one knew anything of his past. He fooled them all, particularly Jupitus, who always stood by him.’

‘So what’s upstairs, Bess?’ Nathan asked. ‘More fish tanks?’

‘I – I’m not allowed upstairs,’ she stammered, ‘but I believe they keep a study and living quarters.’

‘I know this is a little unsociable of us,’ Nathan said as he led her across the room to an adjoining pantry, ‘but we must detain you for a short while.’ He was about to lock her in when Jake called out.