Reverend Macready's
Richard once again wandered around the warren of alleyways that constituted the dockside district of town, always choosing the 'up' direction whenever that was possible, although quite often 'up' would come to a dead end, or turn a corner and then be in fact 'down', and he would have to start over. In any event, 'up' was where he wished to be; it seemed that the good Reverend was his best chance at finding a boy, and perhaps he had a dog as well. The church would be his next destination, after a quick stop at the bank. Richard's bills of exchange were quite worthless until he gave the local bank his letter of credit and had them stamp his bills.
After many windings and turnings, false starts and dead ends, the alleyways eventually coalesced into something of a street, as the ramshackle buildings of the docks' various establishments gave way to the ramshackle housing of the Old Town. These buildings, as the ones nearer to the docks, had the look of having been recently rebuilt from the remnants of whatever came before. People apparently lived here, though they must live in perpetual fear of a storm or a fire. Or possibly each other. One thing about this tier of the town, though, is that people tended to not stare at someone dressed as Richard was. In fact, they pointedly averted their eyes, especially when they observed that he was heading generally 'up'. After the organized mayhem of the docks district, and the bustle of largely boys of all ages, the complete absence of children here was striking. Likely enough any children to be found here would only be found here after their day's work below, for the boys, and likely enough above, for the girls. Or possibly the children simply stayed at their places of employment. Who could really know with poor people. In the meantime, with the lack of children, and the subservience of the adults, his passage through the squalor of Old Town was both quiet and brief - the tier that constituted this section of town was mercifully thin. Apparently not too many people in Fairyland were both rich enough and yet poor enough to call Old Town home.
The next tier of the town, the New Town, was a marked improvement. There were clearly defined streets going across and a grand avenue going up, which Richard followed. The houses here had a solid look to them; some were even made of stone, though as like as not they were wooden buildings with a stone face. Peeking to the side of one such house revealed this to be true. At least it indicated a certain permanence to the buildings. The brothels and rough bars of the lower districts were absent; in their places there appeared to be public houses such as a man might take his family to, if he had a mind. And a ladies' hat shop, incredibly. Other signs of conspicuous wealth included a bakery (the baker also appeared to be the town butcher, by his sign) and a barber's, undoubtedly the esteemed Doc Heaslip. Richard had a tooth that was causing him grief; the life at sea didn't agree with him. He would have to visit the barber if they remained in harbour for a few more days. And while it couldn't be considered bustle, there were a number of children. They were all heading, in the noisy and boisterous manner of children, towards a building that Richard took for the town school. These would be the children of what passed for gentry in this town; they would most likely grow up to be merchants or some such. Few of them would end up working the docks, Richard was quite certain. Or as scullery maids, who were quietly and unobtrusively in evidence hither and yon; beating carpets outside, hanging laundry or gathering dainties for the evening meal from the grocer's, who had a much smaller and nicer establishment than Hannigan, and himself appeared to be both smaller and nicer than Hannigan. Richard mused that the maids were every bit as much children as those of the gentry, at least in a sense. But they were not at all boisterous and had a certain solemnity about them that was appropriate to their station. There were no adults other than those running their shops. Likely enough the gentlemen were about their business somewhere and the ladies were strolling in gardens and sipping tea and other womanly pursuits. Richard could see himself having perhaps a summer residence in this town one day.
Looking up the broad avenue it was impossible to miss the ultimate destination. The grand church was an imposing presence on an otherwise barren hilltop, devoid of any other buildings. Although the avenue appeared to make several switches on the way up, likely enough so that a runaway cart wouldn't simply roll all the way down to the docks. It would be the work of a few more minutes to attain the top of the hill, and therefore the church. But first would be the bank. Richard started wandering about in search of such an establishment.
"Good morning, sir. Can't say as I've seen you about town before." came a cheery but formal voice from behind. It had overtones that suggested Richard should stop and reply. He turned about and saw a town constable, a rough fellow who was probably recruited from the docks and given a clean uniform and a truncheon. Richard had a brief vision of someone having polished a turd, and subsequently dressing it up. The good constable would have been the result.
"And good morning to you sir. I'm only in town until the captain deems us fit to proceed on our journey. In the meantime I thought I would visit with the good Reverend Macready up on the hill, after I have completed an errand at the bank. Could you point me in its direction, good sir?"
"I should visit with the Reverend first, if I were you, sir. He has finished Matins and will refresh himself before Lauds. So you have a brief opportunity to meet with him before he will be quite unavailable. The bank will await your pleasure, I would say, sir. Come, I will take you to see the Reverend myself. I was headed up to inspect the shore battery, and the cathedral is on the way."
"Thank you, my good man. Yes, I expect the bank will still be there in the afternoon. I confess ignorance of the canonical hours and will defer to your wisdom, as I don't wish to inconvenience the good Reverend."
"That's a'right, sir, never been overly churchy myself. In my line of work, it's easy enough to believe in the devil but naught else. Speaking of, I see you've had a bit of an altercation."
"A what?"
"Altercation, sir. There appears to be a few stains on your otherwise very expensive shirt. Suggestive of blood that has been washed, though silk is the very devil to clean and the stains remain."
Richard didn't know where the constable's questioning was leading, but had no desire to be detained or even delayed by it. He decided to omit a few details that were none of the constable's concern.
"Yes, a waghalter accosted me in the docks. Another waghalter shot him. In the back. And to some degree me, in the front. Resulting in the stains."
"Waghalter. Very good. I see you are learning Pirate. Tell me, do you know what a waghalter is?"
"A ruffian, I am led to believe. Though the pirates use the term freely amongst themselves. It seems to be a title they have all earned in some manner."
"Indeed they have, the lot of them. A halter is the noose. Wagging is a sort of a swaying motion. A waghalter, then, is one who causes the noose to sway. Very fitting."
Richard absorbed this bit of information. It seemed to be a different take on 'gallows humour'. They walked on in silence for a piece before the constable continued:
"It's a very delicate thing, priming a pistol for the exact amount of charge to push a ball through a man, but not through anything else. It is an art that comes with long years of practice. But very valuable aboard ship, when you wish to repel boarders, let's say, or perhaps when you yourself are boarding a ship, and have no need of the prior occupants. But in either case you would not want to do any damage to the ship. Or your mates who may be standing behind your man. Your 'waghalter' saviour is to be congratulated on his knowledge of this art, and for having survived years of practice, as those that he practiced upon surely did not."
A certain chilliness crept into the conversation. Richard began to wonder if this were in fact a chance meeting.
"I'll be sure to pass the compliment along, should I see the waghalter again."
"Be sure to. And also mention that any behaviour of a waghalter nature had best keep itself to the docks area or perhaps Old Town. Or the term 'waghalter' will apply more literally. Now then, let's go see the Reverend."
And with that, the constable motioned for Richard to proceed up the wide avenue, with the constable following, just far enough behind that any attempt on Richard's part to attack the man, should that prove necessary for any reason, would be quite impossible. Richard had the feeling that he was being frog-marched, without the overt pinning of his arms.
"I heard Bess sound a ship this morning." Richard said, in an attempt to break the tension surrounding their stroll.
"Yes, the Revenge. A God-cursed pirate and slaver, normally sailing to the south. I don't know why it's in these waters, but I'll warrant it's up to no good purpose. We've been keeping an eye upon it, you may be sure. The wag that accosted you was the first mate on that ship. Willum Monroe."
Richard's stride hitched momentarily before he could recover. The constable noticed this and continued.
"And he has, or should we say, had, any uneasy friendship with the captain of your ship. Long Ben, incidentally, is the very man I would choose to prime my pistol if I needed it done with a certain attention to detail."
"Then you know the captain of my ship."
"Everyone here abouts knows old Ben. He's a frequent visitor. Frequents Mayhem's at least. Generally keeps his nose clean besides that. Haven't had any official dealings with him. Likeable sort of fellow whenever I find myself tipping a glass with him."
"And what of Willum?" Richard was very much concerned that there would be some legal issues with the murder, as the circumstances were somewhat murky and could keep the Captain, the Fancy, and more importantly, Richard himself, in Fairyland for months.
"Him I know professionally. Knew. No one will mourn his passing. He's as like as not making the acquaintance of the crabs in his new home even now. So as far as anyone cares nothing happened. If you find yourself staying in town for any length of time, Sir Richard, then you should really acquaint yourself with the law."
He knows my name, thought Richard. The constable continued:
"The law is, if it doesn't affect New Town and more importantly the Reverend, then it is not against the law. If it does affect New Town, and therefore the Reverend, then you'll swing for it, no matter the offence. And here we are, sir. At the gates of the cathedral grounds. I will leave you to your visit with the Reverend then. You just proceed up the avenue 'till you're at the main doors, but then there's a small side door to your right that is used for more intimate purposes. Knock on that and the reverend's boy will escort you. Good day, sir."
The constable made a small but deliberate gesture involving his thumb and his nose that seemed to be aimed off to the left. Richard looked in that direction but didn't see anyone or anything. However, he had the clear sense that he was expected to meet with the Reverend before being allowed to return down the hill.
"And good day to you too, sir."
Richard continued walking up the avenue towards the church, and was slightly overwhelmed by the structure. It must surely have taken the combined wealth of every person here and several well heeled patrons back Home to make such a building. It was large. No, it was huge. And solid. Whereas the structures of the docks and Old Town may as well have been made of leaves, and even the more solid buildings of New Town generally had only a stone façade, the cathedral he was approaching and its outbuildings were made of solid stone. Built to last until and throughout the rapture. As he approached the over-large main doors he chanced a dizzying look up towards the roof of the structure, far above him. Several doleful gargoyles looked down at him. Directly at him. He was sure they shifted their gaze as he walked.
"A monument to men, perhaps, but certainly not to God." he said to himself, and when he realized he had said it out loud he caught himself and glanced around and especially up to make sure no one and no thing had overheard him. Richard was used to worshipping in more austere surroundings; generally someone's house, and the cathedral impressed him on many levels but the spiritual was not one of them.
True to the constable's word, there was a small side-door beside the grand entrance. Richard knocked. A small and well dressed servant boy of some sort opened the door.
"Good morning, sir. His Excellency is expecting you. I shall take you to him."
Richard made no outward sign, but his mind was reeling somewhat trying to understand how the Reverend could possibly be expecting him. He had come directly here after deciding to make the trek and telling no one about it. The spy network at Fairyland must be second to none.
Inside, the cathedral was perhaps even more lavish than its exterior. While the outside was all of stone, the inside was all of rich woods apparently not native to this desolate rock. The cost of importing them from elsewhere must have been staggering. And to what purpose? he couldn't help but wonder. Any of the buildings down the hill would suffice as a meeting house. Well, maybe not Mayhew's. But any of the other buildings. One did not need to be rich in order to worship. And one did not need a Reverend either. Anyone could be caught up in the Spirit and share with the Friends. Richard shook his head at the waste and had to chuckle to himself as he wondered how many of the deadly sins were represented here. But the stained glass windows were nice, and lent a certain sombre atmosphere to the surroundings that Richard quite liked.
There was a virtual army of choir boys bustling about, doing the many tasks necessary to the maintenance of an over-large place of worship. But even still, the silence was so loud it hurt the ears. Richard was led further into the church, past where the rank-and-file worshippers would sit, and into places where you'd likely get into trouble for being, if you weren't on your way to see the Reverend.
"His Excellency is right behind this door, sir. I shall leave you now." and with that, the waif knocked once, loudly, and then took his leave. The door opened, seemingly by magic, although when Richard adjusted his gaze downwards he saw that the magic was in fact yet another boy. Inside was the Reverend Macready. A tall, thin, angular man with a sour expression dressed in a black robe; the sort of black that drinks in all light; the black of midnight in hell on a cloudy night under a new moon, thought Richard.
"Good morning, Sir Richard." said the Reverend in funereal tones as he extended his skeletal hand. Richard started to clasp it in order to shake hands with the minister, when he noticed that the hand was oriented inconveniently for such a thing, and the Reverend was in fact proffering his ring. Richard struggled to think of the etiquette in such a situation, and seemed to recall that kneeling and kissing the ring was the correct response. Blow that. He turned his own hand awkwardly underneath the Reverend's, clasped hands, and gave a hearty shake. It was like shaking a surprised eel. The Reverend's expression soured further and became stony.
"I hear you have had some issues with the rats." intoned the Reverend as he motioned Richard towards a chair by the fire. "And are in need of some remedies to said problem."
"You hear amazingly well, all the way up here on the top of the hill."
The Reverend's stony stare became glacial as well.
"I am but the humble shepherd of my flock, Sir Richard. But I find the lambs are generally up to mischief and it pays to stay informed as to their wanderings. But enough of my woes; tell me of yours, my son."
Richard ignored that, but couldn't help thinking that any son of the good Reverend like as not would have cloven hooves. He fought to keep his expression neutral and continued:
"Indeed, I find myself in need of a ship's boy, a ratter, and possibly all new supplies. Those that appeal to rats at least. I'll be establishing credit this afternoon for my needs, but was hopeful that you could help in the matter of the boy and possibly the ratter. I've heard a terrier puppy would be the preferred animal."
"And may I inquire what is the purpose of your journey? The destination? If, for instance, you are journeying to the southern seas then you will find more rats certainly but also plentiful opportunity to resupply at frequent intervals. And, like as not, plentiful surplus young men."
"Not south, but I'm afraid that our actual destination is something of a secret, Reverend."
"Your Excellency, if you please."
What an up-jumped little tit thought Richard.
"My apologies. I was not aware that you were more than a pastor here."
"Indeed. In the church I am, at present, the pastor of Fairyland. But at court I am something of an ambassador. You are familiar with court etiquette?"
Oh, balls thought Richard. He had no standing at court and seemingly the good Reverend did.
"Only as befits a person of my station, Your Excellency. Again, my apologies."
"An easy mistake. Fairyland caters to people of all sorts, from all over. Not all of them, or perhaps even not many of them, pay particular respects to the crown and the court. So the honourific Reverend is the most I can expect from those of low birth. From those of slightly higher birth, such as yourself, I demand more."
Slightly higher noticed Richard.
"As is only correct, Your Excellency. But, and no offence is meant, merely curiosity, does Fairyland in fact require an ambassador? Surely there is not much call for diplomacy amongst the rogues and wags to be found here."
"You are quite correct, sir. None whatsoever. But since Fairyland caters to those from all over, and is, in fact, the last outpost of civilization leaving Home, why it is, as it were, the first outpost of civilization for many people coming to the Kingdom."
"I can see that, Your Excellency."
"And that is why the King himself has elevated my standing to something of an ambassador. You see, I keep an eye on the comings and goings at Fairyland. Anything leaving the Kingdom, I see it gets on its way. Anything intending to proceed to the kingdom, now, that bears closer scrutiny. And, as always, we are on the lookout for knowledge of the route to the other side of the world and the riches to be found there."
A spy thought Richard. And a dangerous man. The Reverend continued:
"That and the fact that I have turned this worthless lump of rock into a profitable venture, completely overnight I might add, has put me firmly in the King's good graces. Have you met the King yourself, Richard?"
Macready's reptilian expression drilled into Richard, daring him to lie about his lack of status back Home.
"No, Your Excellency. I'm sure the King is quite unaware that I exist."
"Quite so. Now, as to your current problem. You are travelling with a plague of rats who are even now eating all of your food and spoiling everything else. Gnawing through your ropes and sails perhaps?"
Richard hadn't considered this. The rat problem kept getting worse and worse.
"Indeed."
"And so you need at the very least a ship's boy to keep an eye on things below decks. A dog I cannot help you with." the Reverend continued. "And you are not sailing south. And you have only recently arrived from the east. No one sails north who is not touched by the devil. That means you are sailing west. You are aware, are you, that there is nothing to the west except dragons, and ultimately, the edge of the world? You will never return from this journey, sirrah."
Sirrah was a diminutive of Sir, generally used in a mocking manner towards inferiors. That fact was not lost on Richard.
"I am aware, Your Excellency. I am an adventurer, and what greater adventure could there possibly be?"
"As you say. Well, as it happens, I am in the very business of passing judgement on peoples' affairs. But I find myself ill disposed to pass judgement on this particular folly. I wish you God speed, sir, and I do in fact have an orphan boy whom I think will make an excellent ship's boy. He is quite new; I have only now acquired him, in fact. A sad case."
"And about how much would this boy cost, Your Excellency?"
"Why my good man, we do not sell boys. That would be akin to slavery, would it not? No, we merely facilitate setting young gentlemen upon a path certain to lead to their ultimate success in life. As a grocer's assistant, perhaps. A young member of the constabulary, it could be. In your case, as a mariner, a very valuable member of society. Of course, it is customary for someone receiving the services of a boy to make a donation to the church. A pittance, really."
The man was circling Richard, in the manner of a larger fish circling a smaller fish.
"And how much would this pittance be, generally?"
The reverend wrote down a number and showed it to Richard. A rather large number. But until Richard could figure out the rules of the game, he was forced to play defensively. This man apparently knew the King. He said to the Reverend:
"I will have to establish credit. You will accept a bill?"
"From a gentleman such as yourself. With the backing of the local bank, and, ultimately, the Home bank. Of course. But I will out of necessity have to apply a ten percent surcharge, sadly. There will be some delay in securing payment from the bank, you see."
The delay would be all of about ten minutes, in Richard's estimation. Time enough to send a boy down the hill to the bank. He was being played for a fool. But by someone who had the King's ear.
"Of course, Your Excellency. I need only visit the bank first."
"May I see your letter of credit?"
"Of course, Your Excellency. Here it is." Richard handed over an ornate document, telling one and all that Richard had deposited a sizable amount at Home bank for the purpose of establishing credit on his journey, at any of its various branches, one of which was in Fairyland. The Reverend took the document and handed it to one of the boys hovering discreetly in the shadows.
"Boy, take this to the bank and hand it directly to Mr. Critcher. Tell him it is his first priority this afternoon to see to any necessaries surrounding Sir Richard's credit. Off with you!"
The boy hastened away, as if the very hounds of hell were after him.
"Sir Richard, as it happens I am on the board of the bank," continued the Reverend, "and as such I am privy to certain internal communications. One of which concerned you, in fact. The Home bank sent an advisement to its various branches, Fairyland being of course amongst them, saying that a certain gentleman; you, Sir Richard, had established a large sum of credit and, should he show up aboard the Fancy, that all courtesies should be extended him. No indication of what your purpose might be; largely unimportant to all save yourself, I suppose. Imagine my delight when I heard you were in port. I determined right then and there to meet such an important person. But sadly, it seemed you were only to be in port long enough for a bit of shore leave for your unsavoury crew. It was pure serendipity that your fortunes changed, requiring you to come to the top of the hill, in order to make good upon your letter of credit. Which begs the question, Sir Richard: why would a man secure a large amount of credit and then not, in fact, plan to use it?"
Richard was beginning to smell a rat. An entire sack full of them.
"Purely as a contingency. And you can see that I have had to make use of that contingency. But I do not believe I shared with the Home bank the name of the ship upon which I booked passage, Your Excellency."
"When there is sufficient money involved, banks tend to find things out, in my experience. Your affairs are largely known by any who are curious. Such as myself."
Richard was growing tired of this banter.
"Your Excellency, I appreciate your attempting to save me an errand, but I will be passing by Hannigan's on the way back to the Fancy and I need to purchase a large number of items. I'll have need of the bank's stamp upon my bills."
"Give me one of your bills, Sir Richard."
Richard felt about in a pocket of his greatcoat and produced a less ornate document, telling one and all that funds were secured upon the Home bank, and that this bill of exchange, suitably filled out and countersigned, and bearing the stamp of the local institution, would suffice as tender. The Reverend reached into a nearby drawer and took out a very elaborate stamp bearing the seal of the church. Or sigil, Richard mused. The bill was stamped and returned to Richard.
"You will find, Sir Richard," began the Reverend, "that the stamp of the church carries much more weight here than the stamp of the bank. With my stamp upon that document, Hannigan will hand deliver your goods himself, all the while doing cartwheels for your amusement."
That conjured up quite a humorous image in Richard's mind. But there was still outstanding business needing attention. The boy.
"This boy you mention. You say he is quite new. How long has he been in your care?" asked Richard, unsure why the question popped into his head.
"Not long. Tomorrow. At noon."
"His parents are dead and you're not getting him 'til tomorrow? Where is the boy staying in the meantime? Surely not in the streets. Not in this town."
"Oh, my goodness, no. The streets are no place for urchins anywhere, but more specifically here. No, the boy is being looked after by what passes for his mother, and as an even greater stretch of credulity, an aunt of sorts."
"But then if the mother yet lives, how is the boy an orphan?"
"It saddens me that in this enlightened era there are still those who practice the dark arts. The boy's mother is a witch, I'm afraid. And her appointment with God is slated for tomorrow. At noon. Making the boy an orphan, who will come under my care. And available for you, more to the point."
"I'm sorry to hear that. That you have witches here. I've seen a few of them on my travels, and it tears at your very soul to see such a thing. Has she the third nipple then, or an uncommon blemish? She floats unnaturally after being doused with holy water?"
"Not that I am aware, sir, as I have yet to meet her. Such things will become clear during her trial tomorrow morning, at which she will no doubt confess before being escorted to the gibbet."
"Then what accuses her of witchcraft?"
"Her imp. Her familiar. She has been observed harbouring a beast of hell. A cat." The Reverend fairly spat out the word, as if it had a foul taste.
"A cat. And for this she stands convicted of witchcraft?"
"Accused. She will be convicted after her confession tomorrow morning."
Richard couldn't quite believe that owning a cat would make someone a witch, but he was far from an expert in the field, and the Reverend no doubt was. And, too, it seemed he was to get a boy out of the deal. Though if the boy were truly a witch's spawn he would have to be inspected personally for blemishes and the like.
"So then I could come by tomorrow evening and meet the boy?"
"Oh, do come by in the morning. The trial will be diverting, I promise you. They always are. But you have in fact already met the young gentleman."
"Do tell?"
"He is currently domiciled at Miss Mayhew's, a house whose repute is appropriate to its location and function. You were just there in fact. You had some words with the very witch - I believe you said, 'you are a woman of easy virtue living in a brothel' or some such. In any event, you have met the boy and reportedly have already attempted to purchase him, which caused the redoubtable but wise Miss Mayhew to send a boy here advising me of your need."
Richard quickly saw what was happening. This popinjay was going to murder Mary in order to profit from the sale of her son! And Richard himself was complicit! His anger flared up before he could control it.
"You go too far sir! You would kill an innocent woman for thirty pieces of silver? I will not allow it!"
"You do not allow nor disallow anything in Fairyland! And you will speak to me in a respectful manner! I have the ear of the King and only God Himself ranks any higher than I do here in Fairyland. You, sirrah, are merely a knight errant who puts on airs above his station. When I heard I might have the pleasure of your company I searched in the Peerage to see whom you might be. And do you know what I found there about you, sirrah?"
"No." said Richard, meekly. He had never seen a copy of the Peerage as it did not concern him.
"Absolutely nothing, sirrah. Nothing at all. So I next consulted the Index of Nobles. And do you know what I found there?"
"No."
"Again nothing. So, intrigued, I set an army of boys to the task in the library. And do you know what they found?"
"No."
"A footnote. In a history of the deposed previous King. It seems he sent one beggar ex-cavalry officer far to the east on an errand of mischief against the king to be found there, with whom our then King had grievance. An expendable man. But against all forecasts this beggar returned home with a vast fortune and tales of heroic exploits against the enemy. For his exploits and might I add for half his wealth he was knighted. And then the King was deposed in favour of our current King. And the current King became friends with the kingdom far to the east and set his sights on the kingdom to the south. And so it goes with diplomacy. The knight in question wisely disappeared. The history speculates he is dead. And do you know what the name of this tenuous knight was?"
"Yes."
"All of your glories are far in the past, Sir Richard. And at a word from me, all of your fortunes as well. Are we clear sir?"
Richard relaxed, beaten.
"Yes, Your Excellency."
"Good. Now then, I suggest you return to your ship. Get a good night's sleep. Return tomorrow at whatever hour suits. Bring another bill of exchange if you wish, although you will find your bills of exchange are quite valueless in Fairyland without my stamp. I will personally ensure that you get the boy and a generous supply from Mr. Hannigan to send you on your way. And then you will be on your way, sirrah, far to the west to have your adventure. It is certain you will never be seen again. Though if you are, you may rest easy in the knowledge that I shall be keeping your letter of credit safe for you. Good day, sirrah."