‘I’m a physician, and I have a message for Titus, but I could offer my services to aid their wounded.’ I paused, thinking fast. ‘Do you know the name of the commander?’
‘Why should I?’ She shrugged. ‘No concern of mine. A crowd of cowards, that garrison, just like the men who ran from the town. They went dashing for the citadel the moment they saw El Dracque’s flag, like a flock of sheep running from a wolf, leaving the rest of us to face the heretics and die.’
She glared at me. She still wasn’t sure whether I might be one of the heretics, despite the fact that we were speaking Spanish.
‘The only name I know is Captain Pita,’ she conceded at last. ‘He has a house in the upper town. Through there.’ She gestured to where the tailors’ row ended and a heavy gate closed the way through the substantial walls. ‘His wife, Señora Maria, orders garments from the tailors here. I know her by sight. I haven’t seen her since the invasion, so I suppose she’s with her husband in the citadel for safety.’
‘Are you a tailor yourself?’ I asked, though I knew most tailors were men.
She snorted and gave a toothless grin. ‘Do I look like a tailor? I clean and cook for two of them, or I did. I’m living in one of their houses here, with my old father, since our house was smashed by our own guns.’
I thanked her, though I was not sure for what. The information that Titus Allanby was probably in the citadel was bad enough news. I had the name of one officer, but I hardly believed that would enable me to find my way in. As I turned and started to make my way back down to the harbour, I thought of how Andrew Joplyn and I had broken into the locked storehouse in Amsterdam last year. That was no more than a child’s game compared with trying to gain access to the citadel of Coruña. I would have been glad of Andrew’s help now, but if he had joined the expedition at Dover, or with the soldiers coming over from the Low Countries, I had seen no sign of him.
I took an indirect route back to the ships, in case the old woman was watching. There was no harm in taking precautions. I might need to come this way again. From here I could explore the perimeter of the walled citadel, where, soon, I would try to bluff my way in.
Chapter Eight
After our first visit to care for the injured soldiers besieging the walled upper town, Dr Nuñez and I went every day. Sometimes I went alone. On those occasions, before I returned to the ship I explored the perimeter of the wall, clambering over fallen masonry and awkward corners of rock where the walls had been built to take advantage of the steep terrain. Although it had now become a citadel for the embattled garrison, it also enclosed the homes of the richest citizens, located up here where the breezes from the ocean would mitigate the heat of a Spanish summer and where the delicate noses of wealthy merchants and their families would not suffer the stench of the fishing fleet and the commercial harbour from which their wealth was drawn.
It was an ordinary town wall which encircled this upper part of Coruña, not very high, not very new, not the wall of a great fortress like the one being erected on the island. Moreover, as the town had grown over the years, forming an outer ring of houses and businesses outside the original settlement, the wall had not always been maintained in perfect condition. The English attack was being concentrated on one of the weaker portions, to one side of the main gate. I found that there were others. Here and there private citizens had knocked through the wall to extend their own properties. And apart from that main gate, which I had seen from the street where the tailors had their shops, there were three postern gates. All of these were guarded, but by only a handful of soldiers, since it was clear that our small attacking force was being deployed in full strength against the weak area of the fortification, where they had already done some damage with their small portable cannon. It was there that all the fighting was taking place.
It would not be possible to gain entry through one of the guarded posterns, but if I could somehow manage to trick my way inside the citadel, it might be possible to leave through one of them, or through one of the private properties. One, in particular, had drawn my attention. The substantial house was three storeys high and thus projected above the top of the wall. At some not very recent time the owners had knocked down a portion of the town wall in order to extend their garden out beyond it another fifty yards or so. The stones salvaged from the town wall, with additions, had been used to build a wall around this extended garden, and the garden wall was a good three feet lower than the original town wall. I reckoned I could climb it. If I could get into the citadel, if Titus Allanby were there, if I could find him, then we might succeed in making our escape that way.
There remained the unlikely prospect of entering the citadel without being killed by either our own forces or the enemy’s. Walsingham’s instructions were always to keep our activities secret unless absolute necessity drove us to take someone into our confidence. In this case, I decided that I must confide in Sir John Norreys. If he agreed that I should make the attempt to reach Titus Allanby, he could order the English troops not to fire on me as I approached the citadel. Everything else would rest with me.
I decided that I must also explain to Dr Nuñez what I planned, for if I did not return, it would be up to him to tell my father. Having made up my mind, I had one of the skiffs row me over to Sir John’s ship, the Nonpareil. Fortunately, he was aboard and agreed to see me at once in his cabin. When I had explained what Walsingham had asked me to do, and how I meant to go about it, he ran his fingers through his beard. He was still wearing his helmet, having just returned from the camp. Taking it off and setting it on a table, he scrubbed at his sweat-stained hair.
‘It is a mad scheme, but it might just work.’ He cast an approving eye at me. ‘I like young men who show some courage and imagination. You have done so before. You say you can pass for Spanish?’
‘I am sure I can. I grew up speaking Spanish as easily as Portuguese.’
‘Hmm. Well, I suppose it is worth a try. But you understand, do you not, that if they suspect that you are a spy you will be tortured, probably killed?’
I swallowed. Of course I understood that, but I had been closing my mind to it, knowing that the knowledge would undermine my resolve.
‘I understand,’ I said. ‘But I shall go in as a doctor, unarmed. And I shall treat their wounded, you may be sure. I cannot forget my calling, even amongst the enemy.’
‘I suppose you must, to maintain your disguise, though I would have you not treat them too well. The more wounded there are, the fewer remain to fight against our men.’
I kept my tongue behind my teeth. I would treat the men because they were in pain, not simply to maintain my disguise. And I would not stint my care of them.
‘When do you want to make the attempt?’
‘Tomorrow,’ I said. Best to act while my courage was fresh. ‘At first light.’
‘I will send the order now. You will not be able to say when or how you will return.’
‘Nay.’
When I reached the Victory again, I sought out Dr Nuñez and told him what I was going to attempt, swearing him to secrecy.