The Fetter Lane Fleece by Gregory House

part. Witness the heavy green woollen mantle with fur edging, new black hose and a velvet–edged and lined doublet of the best scarlet cloth. This sartorial splendour, apart from keeping him a great deal warmer, had raised his status amongst the other apprentice lawyers, as did the rumours of his part in Cardinal Wolsey’s fall. The result was the enacting of his Christmas plan. Of long standing custom, come the twelve days of celebration, the apprentice lawyers tended to scatter to their homes, though a few gained lodgings in the city with the relatives and patrons family in the city. This usually left fifty or so lads at a loose end. While it was true that the various Masters of the Inns had made provision for their comfort, it tended to be under a watchful eye, so the festival cheer was usually rather muted.
    Ned, being a kind and generous fellow, had commiserated with his companions in misery and suggested a possible solution to their woes. If perhaps several of them pooled their resources, a ‘friend’ with connections might arrange a set of private rooms above a reputable tavern. Then that ‘friend’ could also supply the party with all the necessities of cheer, roasted capons, venison pies, sweet berry subtleties, and of course a goodly quantity of the finest sack. Also to complete the scene of Roman Idylls, a bevy of well disposed maidens skilled in harp and song would be at hand. Also for those wishing to compete in a gentlemanly fashion, there was bowls, or chancing the Hazards at dice or even the friendly card game of Ruff and Honour . In fact for accommodation, diversions, drink or provender, Ned reckoned he had it all covered, unless one of the more bucolic of the students began to pine for the dubious woolly pleasures of the country.
    After all that pitch, Ned had laid out the final incentive—a spot at this magnificent repast could be had for the modest price of only one angel. The response had been astounding. Some thirty had handed over the required sum, while he’d accepted four shillings and a pledge from three more keen to join. That alone gave him a clear profit of ten angels after the expenses of room, company and provender, though the retention of one of Captaine Gryne’s more presentable retainers had been a little pricy. Despite the fact that his ‘friends’ were gentleman of a sort, the towering presence of Tam Bourke should provide sufficient incentive for a peaceable companionship, no matter how much sack was downed.
    “Hey Ned, the first course is here, come on over!”
    A flourish of harp strings and a drum roll on the tambour announced their arrival along with a resounding chorus of cheers. Ned turned with a ready smile and breathed deep the rich aroma, as his Christmas company left off their diversions and clustered round the table. The first of several trays appeared, borne by the tavern’s servitors. Ned walked over towards the repast and on the way accepted congratulations from several of his guests. It was only an hour or so in and already the good cheer was spread liberally around.
    A pewter cup of sack was thrust into his hand by a large lad with brown tousled hair and blue eyes. The cup bearer towered over most of the gathering and unlike them was dressed in plainer clothes of a dark blue hue, though it wasn’t just his lack of lawyer’s garb that set Rob Black apart. For one thing, his appearance was extremely unlawyerly—at over six foot in height and with broad shoulders that looked strong enough to lift an ox. While Ned had a similar height, his hands only had the calluses’ and ink stains of a clerk. Though he was justifiably proud of his physical skill in a brawl, it couldn’t compete with the heavy craftsman’s trained muscles of his friend. Work with iron and foundry had fleshed out Rob’s build to that of a young Hercules. What’s more he also had a clear honest face, untrammelled by the daily deceits of the courts, as well as a pleasant disposition that had