Her Majesty’s Secret Service

035. Conspiracy

On the second Friday of December, after announcing her marriage to Prince Eric, the Queen spent every moment with him, savoring happiness for the first time in nearly 20 years.

That was, until last week.

Last weekend, shocking news arrived from Rochester: a rebellion. A rebellion had erupted in Rochester.

Upon hearing that a thousand rioters led by Thomas Wyatt had taken Rochester, the Queen was forced to distance herself from her blissful days.

The rebels demanded that the Queen revoke the Protestant protection order, expel Protestantism from England, and, crucially, annul her marriage to the Swedish prince.

Hearing their demands, Mary immediately convened her council to discuss how to deal with Wyatt’s insurgents.

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Among the assembled council, the loudest voice belonged to the Earl of Pembroke, William Herbert.

He had once supported Jane Grey but now swore allegiance to Mary, and his renown as a commander since the days of her father, Henry VIII, granted him a seat at this table.

“Your Majesty, you must form a punitive force immediately. If we do not catch the fire early, it will spread like a greater blaze. This is no ordinary rebellion.

The quality of their equipment rivals that of regular soldiers, so someone must be supporting them. If left unchecked, it will become uncontrollable.”

“Grant me five hundred infantry and just fifty cavalry. Though they say three thousand, they are all untrained peasants. To face them directly…”

Count Herbert was in the midst of expressing his opinion when Bishop Steve’s voice cut him off.

“Count Herbert, do not make such a fuss. The enemy troops number three thousand? Do not inflate unconfirmed reports as if they were fact. And why this eagerness? Perhaps because of your past support for Jane Grey? Fear not. Her Majesty does not doubt your loyalty.”

As Count Herbert’s words were interrupted, Bishop Steve immediately turned his head to look at the Queen.

“Your Majesty, do not take Count Herbert’s words too seriously. At most, they have a thousand soldiers. With that number, they might take Rochester, but conquering London would be impossible.”

Seeing Bishop Steve speak thus to the Queen, Count Herbert exploded in anger. Regardless of the Queen’s presence, he began to rebuke the Bishop for his nonsensical talk.

“Bishop! It seems you do not understand the situation. When that traitor Wyatt attacked Rochester, his numbers already reached a thousand. It’s been a week since then, and those numbers will have only increased, not decreased! Even now, they are drawing closer to London. The number of traitors joining them is growing! The stewards of Finsbury, Chatham, and Gillingham have already declared their intent to join Wyatt. The forces will surely exceed three thousand!”

While Count Herbert was loudly berating Bishop Steve, a calm, elderly voice stopped him.

“Enough of that. I have been silent, and what right do you have to raise your voice so!”

Duke of Norfolk and Lord Marshal, Thomas Howard, was one of the few remaining high nobles, a Catholic noble favored by the Queen.

It must have been uncomfortable for Count Herbert, but he shouted back at Duke Howard as if challenging him.

“Duke Howard! This is a matter of urgency…”

“I will not repeat myself.”

Under the continued pressure from Duke Howard, Count Herbert had no choice but to close his mouth.

Queen Mary, observing the quarrel among the nobles, did not seem to view the situation favorably.

“We should be fighting those traitors, not each other. Upon reflection, Herbert’s words seem more accurate. So, five hundred and fifty. Will that number suffice?”

Count Herbert, brightened by the Queen’s words, was about to bow his head and respond when he was interrupted.

“Your Majesty, pardon my interruption, but where do you intend to find these five hundred and fifty?”

It was Duke Howard’s voice.

The soldiers defending London, including the Tower’s jailers, numbered less than a thousand. He was questioning where such a number of soldiers could be found.

—

“Wouldn’t it be necessary to draft some soldiers from the forces in London, and from the estates nearby, or to recruit additional soldiers?”

With the Queen’s words sounding like a matter of course, the Duke of Howard opened his mouth with confidence.

“As expected, I knew you would say that. Your Majesty, entrust me with the suppression. If I gather the private soldiers pledged by those who follow me, we will have a considerable number. Please grant me two hundred soldiers from London. I will personally lead the charge and subdue them.”

“Really? You, yourself? Well… that is indeed…”

The Queen, Mary, could not hide her pleased expression at the Duke of Howard’s words.

In truth, even if she were to organize a punitive force, the wages, supplies, and equipment for the soldiers would all have to come out of the Queen’s purse.

Amidst this, the Duke of Howard’s offer to organize the force himself was a welcome relief to Mary, who was struggling with financial difficulties and treasured every penny.

“Yes, just leave it to me.”

“Very well, I will grant you two hundred of London’s soldiers. So, where do you plan to intercept these scoundrels?”

It was in the midst of discussing the suppression plan that Howard, the Duke, was granted command of two hundred men.

During the heated meeting, the door to the room was flung open violently. At the door stood a soldier, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath, his face pale.

The nobles frowned at the soldier’s rudeness, but given the circumstances and the soldier’s appearance, they held their tongues.

This breathless soldier was one of the scouts sent to monitor the traitors.

“Forgive my… impertinence… Your Majesty…”

“First, catch your breath. Now, what’s the matter?”

After the Queen’s command, the scout took a moment to gulp down some water and regain his composure. He then knelt before the Queen, bowed his head in respect, and finally spoke.

“Dartford has… Dartford has been occupied.”

“They’ve reached Dartford…?”

The news that the rebels had occupied Dartford cast a shadow over the faces of the Queen and the nobles.

The occupation of Dartford meant that the rebels had reached a distance just a fall away. If one rode at full speed, it would take half a day; even by the army’s marching distance, it would be no more than two days to London.

—

“And… the forces seemed to number over five thousand. I saw the flags erected at the rebels’ stronghold, endless banners both large and small… It appears that local nobles and regional landowners have joined their ranks in droves.”

The scout’s report cast a heavy silence over the room. It had been just over a week, and the initial force of a thousand had grown more than fivefold.

Even Count Herbert, who had confidently claimed that five hundred infantry and fifty cavalry would be enough to suppress them, was now muttering under his breath.

Amidst this, a calm voice could be heard. It was Duke Howard.

“Your Majesty, this is actually to our advantage. The abnormal speed of their march suggests they are not concerned with supplies. Grant me two hundred of London’s soldiers and all the cavalry. Combined with those who follow me, we will have a thousand infantry and about a hundred cavalry. We will intercept them on their way from Dartford to London. With these numbers, we can crush the weary rebels and have troops to spare.”

Upon hearing this, Mary looked at Duke Howard. His voice was small, but it brimmed with confidence.

Mary thought that Duke Howard could protect her happiness.

“Howard, I trust you. I will give you two hundred infantry and fifty cavalry to defeat those traitors and return.”

“As Your Majesty wishes, so shall I follow.”

The next day, the second Saturday of December.

On the eighth day of Wyatt’s rebellion, Duke Howard led an army of eleven hundred towards Dartford.

The Queen watched the departing soldiers, fervently hoping that Howard would subdue them and return.

With Mary’s gaze upon him, Duke Howard, leading the troops at the forefront, had a smile on his face.

Everything was proceeding according to plan.

* * *

“What is the meaning of this! Will you not unhand me at once?!”

The old voice of Bishop Steve rang in my ears.

The evening Duke Howard set out, I visited Bishop Steve’s residence, accompanied by armed soldiers.

“Bishop, why ever did you do it?”

“Logan? Did you bring these men? Have you lost your mind! A mere cook, now starting a rebellion?”

Bishop Steve glared at me with bloodshot eyes. I looked back at him with an incredulous expression and began to speak.

“Accusing others of rebellion, when it was you who conspired with Edward Courtney to incite this uprising?”

“…!”

Bishop Steve’s eyes widened slightly, as if asking how I knew. He quickly composed himself and shouted again.

“Me, a rebel? Madman! Who sent you? Who has slandered me! Or is it the heretics again?! Now that I think about it, you were at Bishop Eli’s estate. Was it Bishop Thomas? Is he plotting something amidst this chaos?”

Steve, the bishop, was adamant to the end. It seemed he would need help to confess his own sins.

“Edward Courtney has already confessed. It’s all over.”

As I pulled out the confession document signed by Edward Courtney, Bishop Steve’s face twisted grotesquely.

Around the time Bishop’s face contorted, I heard the voice of the man who had lent me soldiers.

“Logan, have you not obtained a confession yet?”

“Ah, Prince Eric.”

I looked back at Prince Eric, who was walking up behind me, and bowed in respect.

Prince Eric raised his hand to acknowledge the greeting, then turned to Steve.

“Bishop. It’s all over. I was just delivering Courtney’s confession to Mary.”

As Prince Eric’s words flowed, Steve bowed his head and let out a deep sigh.

Bishop Steve, who had been bellowing just moments before, suddenly began to speak calmly.

“Courtney, that child has always been timid. I know well, having once been his tutor.”

The bishop sighed deeply once more.

“Let’s ask this then. How did you know?”

“What good would it be to know now?”

“…So it is.”

Upon learning of Bishop Steve and Courtney’s rebellion plan for the first time, I intended to inform Anne, the steward. Being merely a cook, and with Bishop Steve a loyalist to the Queen, accusing him without solid evidence would surely backfire on me. I needed proof.

I believed Anne could find evidence of the conspiracy between Bishop Steve and Courtney.

But then, a thought struck me.

‘If Bishop Steve, a close aide, could betray us, could I trust Anne?’

If Anne was in league with Bishop Steve, my life would surely be at risk.

I needed someone who had no connection to Bishop Steve yet would stand with the Queen. Someone with the power to monitor Bishop Steve.

Only one person met all these criteria. It was Prince Eric.

After all, wasn’t Bishop Steve’s goal to drive out Prince Eric?

I rushed to Prince Eric and reported everything I had heard.

The prince, who had been suspicious of me until the rebellion actually occurred, began to actively help me.

With his help, we were able to capture Bishop Steve and Courtney.

“But why didn’t you come a day earlier?”

“What do you mean?”

The bishop, with a defeated look, spoke.

“The arrow has long been shot.”

“Ah, you mean Duke Howard?”

“How did you…”

The bishop, sounding resigned, looked at me with wide eyes.

“Do you take the kitchen staff so lightly?”

—

The bishop’s face was shrouded in disappointment upon hearing my answer.

Footnote:

*In actual history, there were suspicions that Edward Courtenay was behind Thomas Wyatt. When Wyatt’s rebellion failed and he was imprisoned in the Tower of London, it is said that Wyatt cried out to Courtenay to tell the truth.

*Historically, Thomas Wyatt advanced to the outskirts of London in just 12 days. Local landowners and Protestant nobles joined him along the way, filling their ranks to 4,000. In the novel, it is assumed that local Catholic nobles and landowners who harbored grievances joined Wyatt.