Sovereign ms-3

by C. J. Sansom

  ‘I have been getting to know some of the local lawyers,’ he said. ‘They live in a district down by the river. They even have a little library there.’

  I looked up with interest. These last few days I had often wished I had something to read.

  ‘It isn’t up to much,’ Giles continued. ‘But they have a lot of old casebooks. I have been looking through them to pass the time. It is in one of the barrister’s houses, other lawyers may use it for a small fee.’

  ‘Even the barrister’s opponents?’

  ‘Ay. They must make such shift as they can up here, far from London. It is strange; I will never practise again and now I can read cases with interest and even amusement at the fumes and scratchings men make between each other.’

  ‘It is hard,’ I said gently. ‘What you must face.’

  He looked at me seriously. ‘Not so hard now. I raged when I first realized what was wrong with me but I have had months to come to terms with what must be. I will be content so long as I can resolve matters in London. Mend that old quarrel with Martin. Ensure that when I die my name and family will not be forgotten, that I can leave a legacy to my kin.’ Unconsciously he clenched a big fist, his emerald ring glinting.

  ‘We will find Martin Dakin,’ I said soothingly, although I was uncomfortably reminded of what Maleverer had said.

  Giles nodded. ‘Thank you.’ He looked out of the window. ‘The rain has stopped. Come, put on your lawyer’s robe and I will take you to the library.’

  ‘Jesu, I hope the weather will change soon. How I want to leave!’

  He looked at me curiously. ‘You will see that prisoner again on the boat? Broderick.’

  ‘Ay.’ I had told Giles that Maleverer had relieved me of my duties there. ‘I hope he is not in too bad a state.’

  ‘And then in London, he goes to the Tower.’

  ‘Ay.’

  ‘Well, let us not think of that.’

  We went outside. It was a relief to smell fresh air. Many others from the Progress had taken advantage of the break in the endless bad weather to take a walk, and I saw a group of the lawyers’ clerks coming towards us, including the fellow who had mocked me at the lodging house. I frowned and averted my face as they passed.

  ‘Master Shardlake!’ I jerked round at the sound of my name. If they dared to call after me in the street -. But my brow cleared as I saw it was Sergeant Leacon who had addressed me. He was dressed in civilian clothes, a blue doublet and hose. With his blond hair and athletic frame he looked a handsome fellow.

  ‘Sergeant. How are you? You remember Master Wrenne?’

  ‘I do, sir.’ He bowed to Giles.

  ‘You are out of uniform, sergeant?’

  ‘Ay, I am off duty. I have come out for a walk, since for once it is not pissing with rain.’

  ‘We too. Walk with us,’ I added, for I saw that he wished to speak to me. ‘Any news on your parents’ case?’

  ‘Nothing good, sir. My uncle, that was helping my parents with their paperwork, he has had a stroke.’

  ‘I am sorry to hear it.’

  ‘Sir, will you still help us, when we return to London? If I can get my parents to come there?’ There was a look of desperate appeal in his blue eyes.

  ‘I will. Bring them to Lincoln’s Inn.’

  ‘They fret, for I do not know when we will get back. I have a place on the boat.’

  ‘Have you?’

  ‘Ay. To help guard Broderick. But heaven knows when it will leave.’

  ‘Have you seen him?’ I asked. ‘How is he?’

  Leacon shook his head. ‘The castle gaolers have charge of him now. I know he was racked, but they had to stop because he was so weak. Perhaps Radwinter did him a good turn, keeping him locked up and in ill-health in that carriage all the way to Hull.’

  ‘Ay, maybe.’

  We had been walking through the narrow streets leading down to the Hull River. It was tidal and seabirds foraged among the town rubbish on the mudflats, struggling to keep their balance in the wind.

  ‘I had best get back,’ Sergeant Leacon said.

  ‘Tell your parents not to despair, I will help them if I can.’ I watched as he turned a corner. ‘I got them into this mess in the first place.’ I said to Giles.

  ‘How was that?’

  I told him.

  ‘Don’t blame yourself,’ he said. ‘Blame the greedy men of spoil who descended on the monks’ lands like vultures.’

  ‘The monks could be hard landlords too.’

  ‘Not up here.’

  I did not reply.

  ‘Come,’ he said. ‘The library is this way.’

  He led me to a street of well-kept four-storey houses, and knocked at a door. A servant admitted us into a well-appointed hall, then to a large room filled with shelves where three or four black-robed lawyers sat reading casebooks and making notes at tables. One, a little middle-aged fellow, rose from his place and came to greet us.

  ‘Brother Wrenne! Is this the lawyer from London tha told me of?’

  ‘It is indeed. Brother Shardlake. Matthew, this is Brother Hal Davies, whose house this is and who had the splendid idea of turning this room into a library. And his fees to users are light, he makes no profit, it all goes to the upkeep.’

  ‘I got a medal from the city for it,’ Brother Davies said cheerfully. I liked his looks. He had an open face for a lawyer. ‘You must come and visit the library while you are stuck here.’

  ‘I would like to.’

  ‘I fear you may be in Hull some while. This strong southeasterly is unusual in October. Even the Hanse merchants are wary of crossing the German Ocean just now.’

  ‘How long do you think it might last?’

  He inclined his head. ‘It is hard to say with these autumn gales. It could end tomorrow, or go on another fortnight. But divert yourselves here when you will. And for now, will you take a glass of wine with me?’

  WE PASSED A PLEASANT HOUR with Brother Davies. At the end of it Wrenne was looking tired, and readily agreed to my suggestion that we return to the inn. The rain had held off, and I wondered whether the weather might be about to change. Yet I had been disappointed in that hope many times these last few days.

  As we turned into Lowgate I saw a group of young courtiers ambling along. They were walking down the middle of the street, making the locals step aside. My heart sank a little as I recognized Master Dereham and, a little behind him, Culpeper. Culpeper met my eye and then, without a word, left the group and vanished up a side-street. Dereham saw it, looked at me and frowned. I took Wrenne’s arm and hurried him past the group, but a voice called after me. ‘Hey there! You, the crookback lawyer!’

  A couple of the courtiers laughed. I turned slowly. Master Dereham had left the group and was strolling towards me, hands on hips in an arrogant gesture. He stopped and waved me over. Reluctantly, I crossed to where he stood. He looked me over coldly.

  ‘You again. I’m surprised you dare show your face about town after the arse you made of yourself at Fulford.’

  ‘Have you business with me, sir?’ I asked.

  He spoke quietly. ‘What have you done to Master Culpeper, lawyer, that he flees at the sight of you?’

  ‘Who is Master Culpeper?’ I asked calmly, though my heart was thudding fast.

  He narrowed his eyes. ‘And who was it coming out of the Queen’s tent at Howlme? You, sir, and a young man and woman. Take care whom you meddle with, sir.’

  I had not realized he had been there too. ‘We had official business,’ I said.

  ‘Had you now?’

  I stared back at him. He was naught but a young jackanapes for all his finery. He might be the Queen’s secretary but she would not like him asking these questions of me. It worried me, though, the link he made between us: Culpeper, the Queen and I. He gave me a long stare, then turned away. I blew out my cheeks with relief as I stepped back to where Wrenne was.

  ‘Come,” I said, then added, ‘Oh, no,’ beneath my breath; for no
w I saw Sir Richard Rich walking up the road, attended by a little gaggle of armed servants. He motioned me over with an imperious gesture. I felt suddenly angry at these people who could make me walk to and fro with a wave of their hands. What insults would Rich have for me in his turn?

  He wore his cold little smile. ‘Master Shardlake. The pies you have your fingers in. What business have you with the Queen’s secretary?’

  ‘Nothing of importance, Sir Richard. He just wanted to remind me of what happened at Fulford.’

  Rich’s smile broadened. ‘Ah, yes, that.’ Then his face went cold and hard. ‘There is one pie I still want you to take your finger out of.’

  ‘The Bealknap case.’

  ‘Yes.’ His cold grey eyes fixed mine. ‘This will be my last civil request.’

  ‘No, Sir Richard,’ I told him.

  He set his lips, took a deep breath. ‘All right. I will give you fifty pounds to advise the London Guildhall to drop it. I know you are in need of money. Your father’s estate.’

  ‘No, Sir Richard.’

  ‘Very well.’ He nodded twice, then smiled again. ‘In that case you may soon find that your life takes a nasty turn.’

  ‘Do you threaten me with violence, sir?’ I made myself speak boldly.

  His cruel, knowing smile reminded me of the one Maleverer had given me. ‘It is not violence I threaten. But there are other things I can do.’

  ‘Persuade clients to leave me, as you did before?’

  ‘Not that, no. Master Shardlake, you know what powers I have. I do not threaten lightly. Now. Will you drop the Bealknap case?’

  ‘No, Sir Richard.’

  ‘Very well.’ He nodded, smiled again, and turned away.

  THAT EVENING WRENNE and I sat together over a glass of wine. Tamasin had come to visit Barak and I had made myself scarce. Faint moans and thuds came through the walls. Wrenne smiled. ‘I suppose what they are doing should be called sinful, and you should tell Barak so as his employer.’

  I laughed. ‘Then I should hear his fine collection of oaths.’ There was another thump. ‘He’ll do himself a mischief.’

  Wrenne looked at me seriously. ‘You risk mischief for yourself, Matthew.’

  ‘What do you mean, Giles?’

  ‘That case against this man Bealknap. I could not hear all Rich said to you, but I heard enough.’

  I sighed. ‘He tried to bribe me, then threatened me with nameless woes if I did not desist.’

  ‘You don’t have to accept his bribes, but why not drop it? You said yourself the case was weak.’

  ‘To drop it under duress would be wrong.’

  ‘Many lawyers would. You are obstinate, Matthew. And will you be doing your clients a service, advising them to pursue this case, if you cannot win? Because you dislike this man Bealknap and the corruption he stands for? The law has always been corrupt and always will be.’

  I looked at him. ‘But don’t you see? Rich’s desperation for me to drop the case means I may win. He has been unable to find a corrupt judge in Chancery. That must mean the judges think we do have a case, and they do not want to risk a ruling that is obviously corrupt.’

  ‘Perhaps. But if the council win this case you know the King could just get Parliament to pass an Act reversing the law. He gets everything he wants, by fair means or foul, you know that.’

  ‘If he does, he does.’ I looked up at him. ‘I shall go to that library tomorrow, look over some of the relevant case law again. After all this time away from the matter some new angle may strike me.’

  He shook his head. ‘Something will strike you, if you are not careful. That is what I fear.’

  ‘I will not give into them,’ I said. ‘I will not.’

  A LITTLE LATER I left Giles to go to the jakes. As I stepped out I saw Tamasin walking up the hallway, perhaps from a visit to the same place. She looked at me coldly for a moment, then suddenly composed her features into a sweet smile. But I had seen the cold look.

  ‘Master Shardlake,’ she said, ‘I have not thanked you properly for getting me a place on the boat. The sooner I am away from the Queen’s household, the happier I shall be.’

  ‘You should thank Master Wrenne,’ I said. ‘He paid for it.’

  ‘Will you thank him for me?’ she asked. She put a hand on the door of my and Barak’s room.

  Shameless creature, I thought. Her that thinks she might be of good birth. ‘Yes,’ I answered curtly.

  She bit her lip. ‘Do not be angry with me, sir,’ she said in a small voice. ‘I am sorry if I have been ill-mannered with you recently. Only Mistress Marlin’s death was a blow. I could not quite believe she had done – what she did.’

  ‘Well, she did. I am lucky to be here to tell the tale.’

  ‘I see that now. I am sorry.’

  ‘Very well,’ I said, ‘but now you must excuse me.’

  I stepped past her quickly, making her move aside; more quickly than I had intended for she lost her balance, slipped and fell against the wall. Something fell from her dress to the floor.

  ‘I am sorry,’ I said quickly, for I had not meant to cause her to hurt herself. ‘Let me.’ I bent to pick up the object that had fallen on the floor. I looked at it, then held it up with a puzzled frown. It was a rosary, a cheap thing of wooden beads on a string, the beads smooth with long use. I looked up at her; her face had gone scarlet.

  ‘You have found my secret, sir,’ she said quietly.

  I handed it to her. She quickly enclosed it in her little fist. She must have worn it on a belt round her underskirt, I thought, hidden.

  I looked up and down the corridor. ‘Does Barak know you are a papist?’ I asked her quietly. ‘He told me once you had no strong views on religion.’

  She met my hard gaze. ‘I am not a papist, sir. But my grandmother was brought up long before reform was heard of and she was always ticking at her beads. She said they calmed her when she was worried. It is a comfort to poor folk still.’

  ‘A comfort that is disapproved of now. As you know, for you keep it hidden.’

  Her voice rose defiantly. ‘Saying the words in your head, sir, ticking the beads, what harm does it do? It calms me.’ She looked at me and I saw the strain in her face. ‘I am worried what we saw may come out. I am afraid. And I mourn Jennet.’

  I looked at her fist closed round the rosary. I saw the nails were bitten to the quick. ‘That is truly all the beads are, something to calm you?’

  ‘Yes, that is all. I think I had better stop this habit,’ she added bitterly. ‘I will follow whatever forms of religion are required by the King, even though they change from year to year. It is a puzzle to me and perhaps a puzzle to God, but common folk must leave God and the King to resolve it between them, must they not?’

  ‘That is wisest.’

  She turned away then. She did not go back to our room where Barak waited but marched off down the corridor. Her footsteps sounded down the inn stairs. I followed more slowly. I wondered, had she told the truth about why she ticked the beads, or had she invented that tale about her grandmother with her usual quickness? I felt more than ever that I did not really know Tamasin, that she was a woman who kept much secret.

  THE NEXT MORNING found me at the little library once more, for all that it was raining again. As the servant took my wet coat in the hall, Brother Davies came clattering busily down the stairs, a leather bag under his arm.

  ‘Brother Shardlake. Back so soon? I have to go now, a case before the City Council, but look at anything that interests you in the library.’

  ‘Thank you. How much?’

  He waved a hand. ‘No fee for visitors. But a little word of warning.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Old Brother Swann is in this morning. He is over eighty, the oldest lawyer in Hull by many years. Long retired – he says he comes here to keep up to date with the law but really he comes to talk.’

  ‘Ah. I see.’

  ‘I looked in a moment ago, he is asleep before the fire. Do not wake him if you want
to study.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  He nodded, took his coat from the servant and went out into the pelting rain. I opened the library door quietly. Within it was warm and peaceful, a good fire lit in the grate, the embossed lettering on the spines of the large old books glinting in the flames. The only occupant was an old man in a shiny lawyer’s robe, fast asleep by the fire. His face was a mass of lines and wrinkles, the pink skull showing through sparse white hair. I tiptoed over to the shelves, took a couple of books containing cases relevant to the Bealknap case and sat down at a table. I found it hard to concentrate, though; I had been away from my books too long. I reflected on Giles’s words. I had not liked that look Rich had given me as we parted. Yet every instinct told me Rich would not have gone to so much trouble unless he feared he might lose the case. I had to go on, I had to try to win. Fighting for my clients was my life’s work; if I gave in, what was left for me?

  I looked up to find the old man had woken and was looking at me with surprisingly bright blue eyes. He smiled, multiplying the wrinkles in his face.

  ‘Not in the mood for work today, brother?’

  I laughed. ‘No, I fear not.’

  ‘I do not think I have seen you before. Are you new to Hull?’

  ‘I am here with the King’s Progress.’

  ‘Ah, yes, that.’

  ‘My name is Matthew Shardlake.’ I rose in my place and bowed.

  ‘Forgive me if I do not rise. I am eighty-six. My name is Alan Swann. Barrister at law. Retired,’ he added with a chuckle. ‘So, then, the bad weather keeps you here.’

  ‘I fear so.’

  ‘I remember the great gale of 1460, the year of the Battle of Wakefield.’

  ‘You remember that?’ I asked in surprise.

  ‘I recall the messenger coming to Hull saying the Duke of York was slain, his head set over the gates of York wearing a paper crown. My father cheered, for we all supported the House of Lancaster then. It was later the county went over to the Yorkists.’

  ‘I know. I have a friend in York who has told me stories of the Striving between the Roses.’