There is an air of gloom and despondency about; it is almost tangible. Rob and I feel it keenly as we sit with tankards of ale in the Horn and Parrot alehouse down near the Thames. Of course it is understandable as the death of our king has just been announced and everybody is wondering what happens next. Mother says the Lady Mary is next in line of succession and will be crowned queen. Rob disagrees.
"She is illegitimate," he says, raising his tankard and then drinking thirstily. "And anyway, she would return us to the Church of Rome."
"I don"t much mind which church I pray in," I say.
"No, well, you"re a heathen," Rob responds.
I drink some of my ale and scratch around the rushes under my boots. The alehouse is becoming crowded as more people surge in and begin drinking. Voices are l
