The Apothecary’s Apprentice 39
The Apothecary's Apprentice
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- 1. The Apothecary’s Apprentice 39
“Ho, there, fellow. Is a man by the name of Tewke here? I have need to speak with him.”
Butts, the Venables family’s bailiff, dismounted from his sweating horse, and the ostler he was addressing regarded him curiously.
“Aye, sir. I’ll fetch him for you. Who shall I say wants him?”
“Just tell him a messenger. And then see to my horse. He’s been ridden hard and needs attention.”
The ostler, a staunch Cheshire countryman who had befriended Thomas, took himself off and was back shortly.
“You’ll find him behind the malt house, splitting firewood. Have a care the gaffer dunna see you.
“Him dunna hold with folks distracting the working staff.
“Gimme the ’oss. I’ll walk him round to cool him off.”
Guided by the rhythmic sound of hard industry with the axe, Butts located the man he was seeking.
“Thomas Tewke?”
“Aye.” Thomas lowered the axe. Beside him, a pile of logs told its own story. “Who speaks to me?”
“My name is Butts. I’m bailiff for the Venables estate. I’m here on behalf of my master.”
Thomas threw the axe aside and flexed his aching arms.
“What can I do for you?”
“My master instructed me to locate the whereabouts of the herb gatherers. There’s a woman among them who has a skill with horses.”
“That would be Agnetta. What of it?”
“My mistress, the lady Honoria, has an in-foal palfrey that is causing her some concern. Seems no-one but this woman can help.
“My master instructed me to find her and bring her to the house.”
“No simple task,” Thomas remarked.
“Indeed. Can you help, lad? If I go back to my master empty handed I am at risk of losing my position.”
Thomas was thoughtful for a few moments.
“The company generally make for Lancashire after leaving here,” he said at last. “Pendle, to be exact. They could still be there.”
Butts was dismayed.
“That far?”
“There is a good market there, at which they’ll sell off all remaining stock.
“They will then head down the spine of England to winter in the south.
“My advice would be to aim for Pendle and make your enquiries there.”
“My thanks, Tewke. I shall do that.”
“If you should get to speak to Amos or Cecily Tewke, you might oblige me by telling them I am in good heart and wish them well.”
“Rest assured, I shall.” Butts paused, contemplating the young man before him.
“Methinks someone has done you a gross disfavour and brought you down in the world.
“You have been of great help to me today. One good turn warrants another.”
“How so?”
“When the reason for your unfortunate fall from grace became general knowledge, it struck all those who had dealings with you as being highly improbable.
“Did you ever discover who was responsible?”
Thomas shook his head.
“No. I travelled a good deal in my work. It could have come from anywhere.”
His expression sharpened.
“Sir, if you know anything, tell me. All I ask is to clear my name. I am innocent of what I was accused.”
Butts chose his words with care.
“Last evening I called at the White Lion for a sup of ale after work. There was a fellow there, well in his cups, bragging about how he had got even with the herb pedlar.”
“Pray continue,” Thomas urged him.
“Some folks like nothing better than a hard luck story. Drinks were pressed on the speaker with pleas to tell more.
“The fellow was a dealer of sorts, not short of a coin or two, and the ale flowed.
“From what I could gather, the man had bribed and connived his way into what were normally closed ranks.
“A sum of money had changed hands, but the fellow meant business, and the harm was done.”
“I knew it!” Thomas exclaimed. “Sir, did you catch the man’s name?”
“Nay.” Butts looked sorrowful. “’Twas getting late and the taproom was rowdy. I could pick him out again, though.”
“Stout fellow? Greasy looking. Merchant clad. Not young?”
“Aye, that could be him. Beaked nose. Wore a beaver hat.”
“Maynard,” Thomas muttered. “I once crossed swords with him. Well, well!”
Time was getting on, and Butts, aware of having to report back to the master, said he must go.
He thanked Thomas for his trouble and went to seek his horse.
Behind him the industry with the axe started up again, but this time it was with more vigour, a ring of hope with every strike.