Agent Of The Crown...

October, 1358

The drink burned his throat as he gulped and slammed the beaker back onto the sticky wooden table. His eyes blurred with hot tears and he swallowed convulsively before the bitter aftertaste dissipated and a pleasant glow ignited in his chest. He flicked his fingers casually and the empty beaker was quickly replaced with one brimming over the edges. The things he did for his job, Gabriel thought with wry amusement.

The tavern in which he now found himself was an insalubrious establishment. The whores looked as unsavoury as the gone-off meat which had been stuffed into gritty pastry and served to him. It would take at least several more beakers of the strong and foul tasting brew before he would consider sampling the pie. This would not have been his first choice for refreshment, but the man he had been ordered to apprehend seemed less fastidious.

It was not hard, however, to recognise the logic behind the criminal’s preference. The tavern was dimly lit with only a few guttering tallow candles, rendering the corners shadowy lairs for all sorts of illicit activities. The noise was generally high and there seemed to be an almost constant influx of customers from the several entrances. Incidentally this all also provided the perfect cover for a spy who made his living from eavesdropping and informing.

Gabriel’s current mark was in huddled conference with two others. He had been instructed only to monitor the activities of the man, as more information could potentially be gleaned from covert surveillance than from capture. The three men were now hunched over their ale, dark brows drawn downwards, discouraging any interference from outsiders.

“When will the shipment arrive?”

“The cargo will be loaded before dawn.”

Gabriel strained to follow their guttural German amongst the incessant hum which filled the room. Yet even this was not enough to disguise their terrible accents. At first glance they were simple Germanic traders discussing the delivery of their wares, but he was trained to detect their French intonation and carefully coded phrases. Gabriel knew, for example, that the ‘cargo’ in question was an Oxford academic, who was said to have designed an innovative new weapon. Rumours abounded that it would decisively end the protracted war against France.

As he raised his hand to take another swig Gabriel noticed that his partner was staring intently at the group of men. There could be no innocent reason for such attentive study and Gabriel observed with disgust the moment when the Frenchmen registered that they were being watched. Their cover was blown.

He cursed the stupidity of his lack-wit partner as the men overturned their table, sending warm and thick ale over the floor. As they ran for the door they intentionally knocked against the drunkest patrons, so that when Gabriel set off in pursuit he was hindered by the brawl which began around him.

Eventually he barrelled out of the door, grimacing against the sharp iciness of the wind. He took a moment to survey his surroundings before hastening after the figures. It wasn’t long before they made the decision to split up and he doggedly followed his original mark. Though he had been commanded to avoid detaining the man, Gabriel realised that he could not return to his employer empty handed. There was the possibility still that under duress the Frenchman might confess the whereabouts of the kidnapped academic.

The man ducked down a small lane between two sharply inclined properties and Gabriel had to turn abruptly to continue his pursuit. As they raced towards the end of the path a cart rumbled past, spraying up mud from its turning wheels. The man slipped and as he attempted to rise he was tackled to the ground once more by Gabriel. They wrestled in the mud, their hands sliding over each other as their clothes became slick and wet. Each sought purchase on the other in order to gain some sort of advantage. Gabriel flinched as the man’s fist barely missed connecting with his jaw. Rolling once more he regained the uppermost position and finally managed to press an elbow into the man’s throat, successfully pinning him to the ground. He thrashed violently until his eyes rolled back and Gabriel released him, knocking his head against the ground to render him truly senseless.

Breathing hard Gabriel sat back on his haunches, nursing his side where the old wound felt tight and sore after his exertions. The rain dribbled down his face, creating tracks across the muddied surface.

“What took you so long?” He snapped irritably as his partner skidded to a halt before him. Sweat had collected across the young man’s pasty looking brow, and Gabriel was speared with the now familiar feeling of annoyance at being saddled with such an incompetent fool.