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It was late. The fire had long since burnt out, but Richard could not find it in himself to go to bed. He stared quietly into the embers. Christopher had gone to bed maybe two hours before, after telling him about how his life was in danger.
He’d told Christopher, that he would help. Thanked him for letting him know, told him to try to not worry about it for the time being, and to get some sleep.
But inside?
He was roiling.
Could Christopher, this… this boy, this child who’d lost so much, not have a single moment's rest?
First, his master died and, because of a misunderstanding, Ashcombe had him chased up and down London. Then there was the whole plague business, where scoundrels were trying to take advantage of the sick and scared. Then France. And then what just transpired in Devonshire…
And now, now, some monster wanted him dead.
And for what? Because he’d known Benedict? Because Christopher dared stop his plans of murdering the entire French Royal family?
Ashcombe’s eyes darkened. Whoever he was, this Raven had made a mistake going after Christopher. Christopher, Tom, and Sally were friends to the Crown. Whoever this raven was clearly had no idea what that meant if he thought chasing after Christopher was a good idea.
It meant that they took his safety seriously. It meant that a wrong against Christopher and his friends was a wrong against the king.
It meant that if this Raven ever succeeded…
He would be facing the king’s justice. If he ever survived long enough to make it to the courts.
Ashcombe shook his head, But the Raven wouldn’t succeed. Christopher would survive this, even if Ashcombe had to kill every single person in England to do it.
First things first, Christopher would be given a weapon. No exceptions, if the guild had issues with one of their apprentices carrying one, they could take it up with the King’s Warden himself. Inwardly Ashcombe hoped they would, Ashcombe would love a chance to throw their refusal to help him back in their face.
Christopher hadn’t told him that the guild had not kept their word. But he’d known what the guild had promised, and when he’d seen Christopher in London, he’d looked thin. Thinner than was normal. It told him all he’d needed to know, but Christopher hadn’t asked for help, and Ashcombe hadn’t wanted to embarrass the boy by assuming he needed money.
(He should have found a way to discretely leave a few pounds)
Course by the time Christopher returned to Oxford he’d filled out a bit more, and no longer looked as though he had to ration his food, to survive. At the very least it told Ashcombe that his situation had worked itself out, either by finding the treasure Benedict had left him or via the Guild (doubtful, the guild had run shortly before the nobles had) or through the money the council had given him to make medicine. (Ashcombe was not telling the guild, if the guild had cared, they wouldn’t have been dragging their feet for so long).
Yes, first things first. A weapon. Probably a firearm of some kind given Christopher’s proclivity for solving his problems with fire. A weapon that utilized controlled explosives might even entertain him just enough that he wouldn’t create as much damage as he had to the Andalus or under Mortimer's house to solve his problems.
Ok maybe not, but it was worth a try.
Next. White hall. Ashcombe would insist to the king that Christopher would stay with the courts until the Raven had been dealt with.
He would still have his freedom to come and go, (Christopher was definitely the type to circumvent any and all attempts to prohibit him from leaving) but at the very least it would save Ashcombe the anxiety of having to travel up to Blackthorn’s Apothecary every day just to assure himself that Christopher was alright.
It wouldn’t be too hard to convince him to stay there. Charles had told Ashcombe after Christopher had left for France, that apprenticing the boy to Lord Walsingham might be a good idea. An Idea Ashcombe had agreed with at the time, but now was in staunch support of.
Add that to the fact that Charles was also planning on having him apprenticed to Master Kirby who also worked in the palace, and hopefully, that would keep Christopher too busy to wander off on his own.
And Tom, the boy who followed Christopher around, would be given even more rigorous instruction on how to use the sword. As Christopher’s best friend, he would also be in danger. Either he'd be attacked to hurt Christopher, or kidnapped to draw Christopher out. He’d ask the King’s Men to take the boy under his wing, at least until Whitehall.
And Sally…
Lord did he not know how to help her, the most he could do now was ask the King to take her in. At the very least make her his ward or something. To keep the girl safe. He doubted that would stop her from going with Christopher on dangerous assignments, or helping with the Raven plot, but at the very least it kept her off the streets.
Maybe he could even give Sally something small to use, something to hide on her person so that she could have a prayer to fight back if someone tried to use her to get to Christopher. Even though Christopher had only spoken about her a few times, Ashcombe could see the way Christopher looked at her. He could see the way Sally looked at Christopher. And if he could see the connection it's possible this Raven could see it too.
Ashcombe sighed, it wasn’t enough. He doubted any of his plans would be enough, but at the very least it was a start.