frigate.
‘Wot’s goin’ on, Mary? Get yer carcass up to Cheapside and earn yer keep.’
Mary rolled her eyes at him. ‘All right, all right, Jed, I was just goin’. Goodnight, sir.’ She gave Diego a toothy grin.
The man now noticed Diego waiting on the step. ‘Bleedin’ foreigners.’ He spat at Diego’s feet. ‘Tryin’ to get a free tumble, eh?’
‘No,’ Diego said curtly, willing the old man to hurry back and let him in. The last thing he wanted was to bring trouble to Milly’s doorstep.
The man sized him up, clearly thinking he could take the young stranger in a fight, possibly cut his purse into the bargain. ‘Don’t want you pawing our girls, understand?’
A pair of tough-looking men, followed by two more drabs, came up the lane towards them.
‘What’s afoot, Jed?’ one asked. Diego was alarmed to see the newcomer was built like a rhino. While he knew a few moves to deal with a single attacker, the odds were now radically against him.
‘Black boy here cheekin’ Mary,’ growled Jed.
‘He did not!’ Mary protested.
‘Shut it!’ Jed slapped her hard, sending her ricocheting into the wall.
‘Bloody hell, Jed, why d’you go and do that?’ she shrieked, clasping her head. ‘You tryin’ to bleedin’ kill me?’
‘Leave her alone!’ shouted Diego, rushing forward to put himself between her and the man’s raised fist.
‘Keep yer hands off her, you black devil!’ squawked one of the other women, stepping in his path.
Diego realized he’d made a terrible error leaving the step: he was now in the middle of the hostile gang, his only ally sprawled on the ground nursing a head wound from where she had clipped the wall.
‘Go back to where you came from!’ bellowed the rhino, pushing past the woman and launching a right hook at Diego’s chin.
Diego ducked, only to be jumped on from behind by the stick man. The impact took him to the pavement. He got in a few good punches until his right arm was pinned by the rhino, one of the women on his legs. Hands tugged at his clothing, seeking his purse. He kicked her off and curled up, trying to protect his head and middle from what he knew was going to come.
Old Uriah hauled himself up to Milly’s parlour in his own good time to announce that she had a caller. His words were rendered redundant by the sounds of a scuffle on the street outside. Milly rushed to the window in time to see Diego being set upon by three ruffians and their doxies. She shoved the window open.
‘Leave him alone!’ she shouted. ‘Uriah, do something!’
The old man peered over her shoulder. ‘But, mistress, there’re three of ’em!’
‘By all the saints, don’t just stand there – fetch the watch, the neighbours – I don’t care, just get help!’ She grabbed a ewer off her washstand and threw it over the brawlers like she would a pack of fighting dogs. ‘Help! Help!’
Shutters were thrown back at windows up and down the lane. Heads poked out.
‘Mistress Porter, whatever is the matter?’ called her neighbour, Master Rich, the tailor, napkin still thrown over his shoulder from his evening meal.
Milly pointed frantically down at the street below. ‘My friend – they’re killing him – please, help him!’
Rich went back inside, summoning his apprentices. The door to his shop opened and four young men issued out, eager for a scrap. Milly tried to keep an eye on what was happening to Diego, but he was lost in the middle of the battle. To her relief, she saw Christopher Turner emerge from his nearby lodgings with two friends in tow; they approached the fight at a run.
‘Thank God – Kit – it’s Diego – he’s in there somewhere! Save him!’
Christopher tapped his fingers to his forehead in a salute to indicate he’d heard her plea. Throwing his red cloak to one of the drabs with a wink and promise of reward if she kept it safe for him, he dived into the midst of the skirmish. Milly then caught a glimpse of Diego, back up on his
‘Wot’s goin’ on, Mary? Get yer carcass up to Cheapside and earn yer keep.’
Mary rolled her eyes at him. ‘All right, all right, Jed, I was just goin’. Goodnight, sir.’ She gave Diego a toothy grin.
The man now noticed Diego waiting on the step. ‘Bleedin’ foreigners.’ He spat at Diego’s feet. ‘Tryin’ to get a free tumble, eh?’
‘No,’ Diego said curtly, willing the old man to hurry back and let him in. The last thing he wanted was to bring trouble to Milly’s doorstep.
The man sized him up, clearly thinking he could take the young stranger in a fight, possibly cut his purse into the bargain. ‘Don’t want you pawing our girls, understand?’
A pair of tough-looking men, followed by two more drabs, came up the lane towards them.
‘What’s afoot, Jed?’ one asked. Diego was alarmed to see the newcomer was built like a rhino. While he knew a few moves to deal with a single attacker, the odds were now radically against him.
‘Black boy here cheekin’ Mary,’ growled Jed.
‘He did not!’ Mary protested.
‘Shut it!’ Jed slapped her hard, sending her ricocheting into the wall.
‘Bloody hell, Jed, why d’you go and do that?’ she shrieked, clasping her head. ‘You tryin’ to bleedin’ kill me?’
‘Leave her alone!’ shouted Diego, rushing forward to put himself between her and the man’s raised fist.
‘Keep yer hands off her, you black devil!’ squawked one of the other women, stepping in his path.
Diego realized he’d made a terrible error leaving the step: he was now in the middle of the hostile gang, his only ally sprawled on the ground nursing a head wound from where she had clipped the wall.
‘Go back to where you came from!’ bellowed the rhino, pushing past the woman and launching a right hook at Diego’s chin.
Diego ducked, only to be jumped on from behind by the stick man. The impact took him to the pavement. He got in a few good punches until his right arm was pinned by the rhino, one of the women on his legs. Hands tugged at his clothing, seeking his purse. He kicked her off and curled up, trying to protect his head and middle from what he knew was going to come.
Old Uriah hauled himself up to Milly’s parlour in his own good time to announce that she had a caller. His words were rendered redundant by the sounds of a scuffle on the street outside. Milly rushed to the window in time to see Diego being set upon by three ruffians and their doxies. She shoved the window open.
‘Leave him alone!’ she shouted. ‘Uriah, do something!’
The old man peered over her shoulder. ‘But, mistress, there’re three of ’em!’
‘By all the saints, don’t just stand there – fetch the watch, the neighbours – I don’t care, just get help!’ She grabbed a ewer off her washstand and threw it over the brawlers like she would a pack of fighting dogs. ‘Help! Help!’
Shutters were thrown back at windows up and down the lane. Heads poked out.
‘Mistress Porter, whatever is the matter?’ called her neighbour, Master Rich, the tailor, napkin still thrown over his shoulder from his evening meal.
Milly pointed frantically down at the street below. ‘My friend – they’re killing him – please, help him!’
Rich went back inside, summoning his apprentices. The door to his shop opened and four young men issued out, eager for a scrap. Milly tried to keep an eye on what was happening to Diego, but he was lost in the middle of the battle. To her relief, she saw Christopher Turner emerge from his nearby lodgings with two friends in tow; they approached the fight at a run.
‘Thank God – Kit – it’s Diego – he’s in there somewhere! Save him!’
Christopher tapped his fingers to his forehead in a salute to indicate he’d heard her plea. Throwing his red cloak to one of the drabs with a wink and promise of reward if she kept it safe for him, he dived into the midst of the skirmish. Milly then caught a glimpse of Diego, back up on his
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