The House of Crows

PROLOGUE

    No one will ever forget the night the demon came to Southwark. Spring was making itself felt, even in the derelict alleyways and filthy runnels of Southwark where it squatted on the south side of the Thames. The rains had washed the shit-strewn cobbles and the clouds had begun to break as daylight died on that fresh spring day. Apprentices and traders packed away their stalls. The high-sided dung-carts rattled through the streets as sweaty-faced labourers worked to clear the mess and refuse from the open, swollen sewers. The men worked cheerfully, remembering the pennies they had been promised. Not even a bloated corpse of a cat or a dog put them off the prospect of a bowl of soup and a blackjack of ale, once their labours were done.
    Pike the ditcher, parishioner of St Erconwald’s in Southwark, was also out. He slipped by the church and into the Piebald tavern where the Dogman, the Weasel, the Fox and the Hare were waiting for him. They sat on upturned casks, around a table pushed into a shadowy corner, their unshaven faces hidden by the deep cowls pulled well over their heads.
    ‘You are late!’ Dogman snarled.
    Pike swallowed nervously.
    ‘He who comes late,’ Weasel piped up, ‘always pays the tax!’
    Pike groaned to himself: he called Tiptoe the potboy across and ordered five blackjacks of ale. Near the casks at the far end of the tavern, Joscelyn the one-armed taverner watched them all carefully. Pike closed his eyes and scratched his tousled beard. Did Joscelyn suspect what he was up to, Pike wondered? In which case Brother Athelstan, his parish priest, would be taking him aside next Sunday to give him his usual sermon. Pike’s face softened. As always, Athelstan, dressed in his black and white Dominican robes, with his olive-skinned face and gentle eyes full of concern, would lecture Pike about the dangers of treason and the horrors of the hangman’s rope. ‘Well,’ Dogman snarled, ‘how goes it, friend?’
    Pike broke from his reverie. He leaned across the table, determined to show these representatives of the Great Community of the Realm that he was not frightened.
    ‘When Adam delved and Eve span, who was then the gentleman?’ Pike chanted.
    The four rebel leaders, identities hidden under their strange names, nodded in unison. Nevertheless, they watched Pike intently for any sign of unease or lessening of fervour in the support of their great cause. Tiptoe brought across the blackjacks. Pike handed over one of his precious coins and, once the boy had left, the ditcher raised his tankard.
    ‘To the Great Cause!’ he murmured.
    The other four acknowledged his salute and sipped at the tangy-flavoured drink.
    ‘Well?’ Hare asked. ‘How goes it in Southwark?’
    ‘The pot bubbles,’ Pike declared darkly. ‘Our young King Richard is only a child, his uncle, John of Gaunt, although only regent, acts like an emperor. Taxes are heavy, discontent swirls like dirt in the water; even the merchants protest.’ He slammed his tankard down. ‘A Parliament has been convened at Westminster,’ Pike continued excitedly. ‘John of Gaunt is demanding more money but the Commons refuse. They might impeach certain ministers.’
    ‘Pshaw!’ Narrow-eyed Weasel smirked and sipped from his tankard. ‘What do the fat ones expect? Clemency and pardon from a man like Gaunt?’
    ‘So, when will you come?’ Pike asked.
    ‘Times and dates are not for you,’ Hare retorted. ‘But, at a given sign when Jack Straw our priest sends out the burning cross, then we will come.’
    ‘Men from Essex, Kent, Suffolk, even as far north as the Trent,’ Dogman exclaimed, ‘will fall on London as fast as lightning. Like fire in the stubble, we will bum and cleanse this city from Southwark in the south to Cripplegate in the north.’
    ‘Aye,’ Weasel added. ‘Purify it with fire and sword. There’ll be no kings or princes, no great councils or Parliaments. The lords of the soil will be destroyed and the meek will inherit the earth.’
    Dogman leaned across the table and seized Pike’s jerkin. ‘And the men of Southwark?’ he asked.
    ‘We will be good and true,’ Pike replied. ‘We will seize London Bridge and the gatehouse at both ends. We’ll be there when you march on the Tower.’
    Dogman watched him closely. Perhaps he noticed Pike’s gaze shift a little or his lower lip tremble.
    ‘Are you still with us, Pike?’ he demanded softly.
    ‘Yes, it’s just...’
    ‘Just what?’ Fox leaned