Sovereign ms-3

by C. J. Sansom

  ‘Sergeant,’ I said. ‘How – what happened?’

  ‘We heard the commotion from Broderick’s cell, it’s just behind the church wall. I brought my men through here. Fortunately they had their bows with them.’ He looked at me grimly. ‘You’ve cause to be thankful Kentish archers know how to shoot straight.’

  I took a deep breath. ‘You saved my life.’

  ‘How in God’s name did that bear get inside the church?’

  ‘Someone let it out of its cage.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It chased me into the church, then I slipped.’ I looked past Leacon to the grooms, who were checking the fire was out. One met my eye and looked away, shamefaced. The bear’s carcass lay smoking amid the burnt straw.

  More voices sounded, it seemed the noise from the church had wakened half the camp. Servants and soldiers appeared, milling about and staring at the dead bear. ‘It went for the crookback lawyer,’ someone said. ‘You remember, from Fulford?’ Sergeant Leacon looked from me to the bear and back again, his broad handsome face creased with a frown.

  ‘Are you saying someone let that bear out deliberately?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’ I took a deep breath. ‘Someone knew I was coming that way and waited for me.’ But who? And how did they know?

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  SERGEANT LEACON ordered a soldier to accompany me to the manor. The soldier explained our business to one of the guards on the door and an official led me into the house, ordering me to walk quietly and talk in whispers for the King and Queen were abed upstairs. All was silent within, the soldiers lining the walls looking half asleep, the gorgeous tapestries and furniture dimly lit by a few sconces of candles.

  Again I was led upstairs. The official knocked on the door of Maleverer’s office and his deep voice called ‘Enter!’ To my surprise Sir Richard Rich was with him; the two of them were sitting at his desk poring over some land deeds. As I entered with the soldier I saw the name ‘Robert Aske of Aughton’ in large bold letters heading a conveyance just before Maleverer hastily rolled up the document.

  ‘What do you want at this time of night?’ he barked.

  ‘You should know, Sir William, there has been another attempt on my life.’

  ‘What?’

  I told him about the bear, and the events in the church. When I had finished, Rich laughed softly.

  ‘Brother Shardlake, perhaps when the bear saw your bent form in the dark it thought you were a little female bear.’ As he spoke, looking me hard in the eye, he was rolling up more conveyances from Maleverer’s desk. I thought, he is trying to distract me, he does not want me to see.

  ‘Someone opened the cage deliberately.’

  Maleverer called in the official, who was waiting outside. ‘Fetch the bearward,’ he snapped. ‘Have him brought here.’

  The soldier bowed and left. Maleverer looked at me keenly. ‘I spoke to that cook from the camp, Goodrich. I couldn’t make up my mind whether what happened with that spit was an accident and they were trying to cover it up, or whether someone did attack that boy and try to kill you. This might throw a different light on matters. We’ll see what the bearward says.’

  ‘No more news on the missing papers?’ Sir Richard asked. He glanced at me again. ‘The ones this fool lost?’

  ‘Nothing. They are long gone to the rebels.’

  ‘But someone has stayed behind, to give Broderick poison and attack Shardlake here. I think there is something to be said for groping Broderick again, at the castle. Prick out what he knows.’

  Maleverer shook his head. ‘The Duke of Suffolk says no, and the King agrees. They talked of getting an expert up from the Tower dungeons but by the time he gets up here we’ll be well on our way back if we go by boat. Hopefully.’

  ‘If the Scotch King ever arrives.’ Rich’s mouth twisted in amusement.

  ‘If James doesn’t show his mangy arse in York soon the Scotch will smart for this.’

  There was a knock at the door and the soldier led the bearward into the room. The big man cringed. Rich waved a hand in front of his nose. ‘God’s bones, you stink!’

  ‘I’m sorry, my lord,’ the fellow quavered. ‘Only I’ve just been getting the bruin’s carcass out of the church -’

  ‘How did it get out of its cage?’ Maleverer asked. ‘Were you careless with the latch?’

  ‘No, sir, I swear. It doesn’t open on a latch. The door is pulled upward from behind. There is a rope from the top of the door. For safety, you see. Someone stood behind the cage, raised the door and tied the end to the back of the cage. Then they ran, leaving the bear to get out.’

  ‘Anyone could do that?’ Maleverer asked, frowning. ‘Is the door not secured in any way?’

  ‘No, sir. Who – who would want to let a wild bear out?’

  ‘Someone who knew I would be walking along that path, late at night,’ I said. ‘I see what happened now. When I came into St Mary’s with Barak someone was in the yard and saw me. They ran down the side of the church, went behind the bear’s cage, then when I left the church they let it out. To kill me.’

  ‘Where was Barak?’ Maleverer snapped.

  I hesitated. ‘I gave him permission to visit someone.’

  ‘That girl, eh?’

  I did not reply. Rich gathered up his papers. ‘Well, Sir William, I cannot stand this stink another moment. If you will excuse me.’ He bowed to Maleverer and left the room. Maleverer glared at the bearward.

  ‘You should have taken greater care of that animal. What if it had got out when the King was abroad?’

  ‘But I-’

  ‘Shut your gob. Now listen, you say nothing about someone opening the cage. Say you forgot to secure the door properly. I don’t want rumours getting about. Understand?’

  ‘Yes, Sir William. I promise.’

  ‘You’d better. Now get out. Are there more bear-baitings planned?’

  ‘Yes, there’s one to entertain the camp on Tuesday. They’re bringing in new bears tomorrow.’

  ‘Well, keep them somewhere else, outside the manor. Any more escapes and I’ll have you put you in the ring with the bears instead of the dogs. Understand?’

  ‘Yes, Sir William.’

  ‘Right. Get out.’

  The man left, still cringing. Maleverer sighed, then turned to me. ‘From now on you keep that Barak with you, you don’t go wandering anywhere alone. I’m surprised you did tonight, after nearly being spitted at the camp.’

  I sighed. ‘That was careless of me.’

  ‘Who is doing this?’ he growled savagely. ‘It’s like dealing with a spirit of the air.’ He sighed, then waved a hand. ‘All right. Go.’ He gave me a sidelong look. ‘You’ve another enemy in Richard Rich, by the way. You’d be better off advising the London Council to drop their case. Better for your business, your reputation, everything.’

  I did not reply. Maleverer frowned. ‘Obstinate, aren’t you? You’d do better to calculate where your own interests lie.’

  As I descended the steps with my guard, I thought of Maleverer’s advice. You certainly protect your own interests, I thought. Getting hold of Aske’s lands that were forfeited to the King and passed to the Court of Augmentations. I wondered what Rich was getting in return.

  BARAK RETURNED TO THE lodging house in the small hours. I called him into my cubicle and told him what had happened. I said Maleverer had ordered he must accompany me everywhere.

  ‘If it must be, it must,’ he said. He looked at me.

  ‘He guessed you were with Tamasin. You’d better arrange your trysts for when I am safe indoors.’

  ‘Why does he not just send us back? The petitions are almost done with.’

  ‘I’m not sure.’ I looked out of the little window of my cubicle. ‘I think I may be bait. To draw out the assassin.’

  ‘Who the hell is it?’ Barak asked.

  ‘As I said to Maleverer: someone who watches and waits in the dark for an opportunity. Someone was hidden in the courtyard
when we came back from the inn, waiting for an opportunity. They ran round the church and behind the bear’s pen. They probably planned to let the bear loose on me anyway, and by going up to the pen I gave them a wonderful opportunity. This is someone very persistent, waiting for the chance of an ambush like a cat.’

  ‘One person?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘A professional?’

  I looked at him. ‘What do you think?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, this is an opportunist. A professional would have come up behind you and knifed you in the guts. This is someone from the manor, afraid of being seen and recognized. With me with you all the time, you should be safer. And when you’re alone here, he wouldn’t dare risk coming in and letting the clerks see him.’

  I laughed bitterly. ‘Those people, my protectors?’ I walked over to the window. ‘Such persistence, such determination. And all because they think I know more about those papers than I do, unless there is something I am missing. If only I could find out more about them. I have turned the contents of that Titulus over in my mind a hundred times. It is so ambiguously worded in places.’

  I looked out of the window. I remembered the dream I had had our first day here, that it was like Broderick’s cell in the castle. Then I thought of something, and drew in my breath sharply.

  ‘What is it?’ Barak was suddenly alert. ‘Someone outside?’

  ‘No. No, I have thought of something. That poison Broderick used. He had it in his cell at York Castle, but could not have brought it in and no one can have brought it to him. How did he get it?’

  ‘It’s a riddle.’

  ‘There must be an answer.’

  ‘Have you thought of one?’

  ‘Possibly. When we go to the castle to hear the petitions tomorrow, I want to take another look at that cell.’

  NEXT MORNING we set out early for the castle. Another high wind had risen overnight, full of gusty rain. Aske’s skeleton still hung from the tower; the sight of it made me shudder. I looked at the tower where Broderick had been held; as soon as we had a break I intended to visit his old cell.

  We entered the courthouse; the benches in the outer hall were filled with people, mostly tradesmen and poor farmers though a few men in more expensive clothes sat stiffly among them. All looked at me apprehensively as I entered in my lawyer’s robes.

  Giles sat in a courtroom with dark panelled walls, at a table drawn up beneath the royal arms and covered with a green cloth. He seemed fully restored to health, and with his broad craggy face looked impressively judicial. Beside him sat a thin, dark-haired fellow in his thirties, wearing a dark robe with the badge of the Council of the North.

  Giles greeted us cheerfully. ‘Matthew. And Barak, would you sit at the end here and take notes. There is ink and a quill sharpened for you.’ He waved to the man beside him. ‘Master Ralph Waters, representative of the Council of the North.’

  I bowed. Master Waters looked amiable enough, a junior official by the look of him. ‘Master Waters is here to represent the council’s interests, for some of the cases this morning involve complaints against it. The compulsory purchase of a piece of land here, a requirement to provide food at low prices there. Master Waters has been instructed to be – accommodating.’

  The official smiled. ‘Ay, so the King’s justice can be seen to be merciful. No try-ons, mind,’ he added, raising a finger. ‘I won’t have try-ons.’

  ‘Nor will we,’ Giles agreed heartily. ‘Eh, Brother Shardlake? We’ll send false petitioners out with their tails between their legs.’ He seemed to be enjoying the prospect of the day’s work. ‘Now then, let us make ready, look over the cases then have the petitioners in.’

  WE WERE THERE all morning, listening to disputes and adjudicating. After the horrors of the night before it felt strange to be sitting there, surrounded by the trappings of power. I managed to forget what had happened, for a few hours at least, for adjudicating was a role I enjoyed.

  Most of the cases were petty enough matters, some of the parties’ anger with each other far out of proportion to the matter in dispute. Those we dealt with sharply. Where the council was the party petitioned against, Master Waters was a model of reasonableness, but it struck me from the cases that the council had often been high-handed in its dealings with the Yorkers.

  We adjourned for a break at twelve, a servant bringing in some cold meat and bread. I ate quickly, then nodded at Barak.

  ‘I wonder if we might leave you for a short while, gentlemen,’ I said. ‘We will be back within the half hour.’ Master Waters nodded; Giles looked at us curiously.

  We went out into the courtyard; the rain had stopped but the wind was higher than ever, making my robe billow around me. ‘My wrist hurts,’ Barak said. ‘All those notes. Well, what is this mystery in the tower?’

  I led the way across the courtyard to the guardroom, where the hard-featured guard I had met before agreed to take us up to Broderick’s cell.

  The cell had not been cleaned since the cook left it; messy rushes still lay on the floor, the truckle bed under the window still had a dirty sheet on it. Broderick’s chains were still fixed to their bolt on the wall, the chains themselves lying in a pile of links on the bed.

  ‘Well?’ Barak asked.

  I walked to the bed and picked up the manacles at the end of the chain, which had been fixed to Broderick’s wrists. I walked away from the bed, drawing out the chain to its fullest length. Standing up, Broderick could have walked perhaps eight feet. I walked round the cell in a half-circle, looking inwards. Barak and the guard looked on in surprise.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Barak asked.

  ‘I’m tracing the limits Broderick could have walked. Seeing if there is anything odd on the floor, the walls.’

  ‘I can’t see anything.’

  ‘No – ah.’ I stopped at the window. ‘Yes, he can walk this far. I thought so; he told me he used to stare at Aske’s bones.’ I looked out. I could see the opposite tower, the shape of the skeleton swinging in its chains in the cold wind that whipped rain into my face, along with something else: a smell I recalled from the handkerchief in Broderick’s cell at St Mary’s, and from Fulford when I bowed and looked at the King’s leg – rot and decay. I studied a long leaden pipe that ran down the wall and broke off to one side of the window, where a crack in the wall ran jaggedly along beside it. From the end of the pipe a white, slimy-looking deposit hung, water sweating from it into the crack. And something else: a couple of brown stems, broken off from the fungus that had grown in this filth.

  ‘That looks like a lightning strike,’ I said to the guard.

  ‘Ay, maybe.’ He sounded puzzled by my interest.

  ‘Where does the pipe come from?’

  ‘It’s an overflow pipe, from the guards’ little kitchen at the top of the tower. Some of the guards sleep there usually, though they were turned out when Broderick came.’

  ‘So the pipe will be full of the nastiest stuff you could imagine. Bits of bad meat, rotten vegetables.’ I took off my robe, took out a clean handkerchief and then, with some difficulty, reached my hand through the bars and broke off a chunk of the white slimy deposit. As I touched it I felt my stomach turn. I sniffed at it, then showed it to Barak. He bent his head, then recoiled.

  ‘Ugh. It’s like shit, only worse.’

  I reached out again, and plucked a couple of the little mushrooms. I held them in my palm.

  ‘This is Broderick’s poison,’ I said quietly. ‘And the smell in his handkerchief was the stuff from the pipe. This is where he got it. He then ate the fungus, hoping it would poison him.’

  ‘Jesu!’ The guard’s face wrinkled in disgust. ‘What manner of man could do such a thing?’

  ‘A man of great desperation. And courage. He was in a state when he would try anything.’

  ‘He wouldn’t know what the mushrooms would do,’ Barak observed

  ‘No, but he knew it would be nothing good. That perhaps it could kill him.
’

  ‘And he kept it in a handkerchief stuffed up his arse,’ Barak added, making the guard cringe even more.

  ‘As I said, desperate. What courage it must have taken to make that plan, collect that stuff and actually force oneself to swallow it, stomach heaving, hoping but not knowing if it would poison you to death. Well, that is one mystery solved. No one else was involved in his poisoning.’

  ‘How did you know?’ Barak asked.

  ‘I didn’t. But I knew he had to get it from somewhere and I thought, what if he got it from outside the window. It was the only possible place left.’ I smiled. ‘There is as always an answer if you look hard enough.’

  We left the cell and returned to the courtyard. I watched the leaves skittering over the courtyard in the wind. ‘I’ll tell Maleverer,’ I said. ‘This will let Radwinter off the hook.’ I laughed softly. ‘I wonder if he’ll be grateful?’

  ‘I should think he’ll hate you worse than ever.’

  ‘Poor Broderick. I suppose he thought anything was better than what he faces in the Tower.’ I shook my head. ‘Well, I have ensured he is safe for that now.’

  ‘He would never have died. That filth was so strong his body just rejected it at once.’ Barak looked at me. ‘You sound as though you admire him.’

  ‘In a way I do. Jesu, that stink reminds me of the smell that came from the King’s leg.’ I laughed. ‘Mould from the Mouldwarp.’

  THE AFTERNOON WITH ITS succession of petitioners passed much like the morning. There was one case, though, which troubled me, and brought me as close as I had come to a disagreement with Giles. It was a petition from a supplier of wood to St Mary’s, which had gone into the building of the pavilions. He had provided the materials months ago and according to the terms of his contract with the Council of the North he should have been paid long before. He invoked the King’s justice in seeking payment now.

  ‘This is a difficult one,’ Master Waters said uncomfortably as we studied the papers before the petitioner was admitted.

  ‘Why?’ Giles asked. ‘It seems clear enough Master Segwike’s payment is overdue. I know him, his business is small, he cannot afford to continue unpaid.’