by C. J. Sansom
Inside the church I grabbed the big door to pull it shut, but it had stood open a long time now and rain had warped the wood. It would not shift.
‘Help!’ I cried out. ‘The bear’s loose!’ I heard startled voices behind me. The bear must have halted somewhere outside, I could not see it. Perhaps the noise would drive it away.
The groom I had spoken to earlier ran up to me with a couple of others. ‘What’s happening?’
‘The bear, it’s got out, it’s out there! Help me close the door. And someone run to find some soldiers! Hurry!’ I had remembered that weapons were forbidden at King’s Manor. The grooms, still half asleep, stared at me stupidly. ‘God’s blood,’ I cried. ‘Will you help me with this door!’
One of the men stepped forward. ‘But what – oh, fuck!’ He broke off as the bear appeared in the doorway. It was a huge animal. It shambled inside, turning its massive head to look at us, its nose twitching. Everyone jumped back. The horses, catching its smell, began neighing loudly, banging against the sides of their stalls. The sudden cacophony seemed to startle the bear. It stood where it was, looking from side to side with its small deep-set eyes, saliva dripping from the corner of its mouth. It stood again on its hind legs and opened its mouth, showing us a pair of enormous canines. I saw that a long wound on its hind leg had opened, blood was dripping on to the floor. After its recent experiences the creature must be confused, frightened, in pain. That only made it more dangerous.
I joined the grooms as they retreated, step by step, everyone terrified of a sudden charge by the bear, and looking round desperately for somewhere to escape to. But there was nowhere in the stripped, empty church, nothing to climb on. The terrified horses were making an enormous din now, some of them rearing up and battering the sides of their stalls with their hooves, splintering the wood. I hoped the noise would drive the bear out but the creature dropped back on all fours again and began advancing, turning its head and looking between me and the half-dozen grooms as we retreated, its terrible human enemies now exposed in all their puny weakness. As its head swayed on its powerful neck, looking from one to the other of us, it seemed it fixed its attention particularly on me: the first man it had encountered after its release.
It seemed like an eternity, but it can only have been for a minute or so that we retreated down the church, eyes on the bear, terrified to turn and run lest we provoke a charge. Then I slipped on some dirty straw on the floor of the nave and went over backwards. I cried out, then hauled myself frantically to my feet. The grooms had retreated farther, leaving me closest to the bear, which was staring at me from ten feet away. I saw the trail of blood from its leg ran all the way to the door. The noise from the horses as they cried out and battered at their stalls was indescribable.
The bear walked slowly forward, never taking its eyes off me. I heard the distant footsteps of the grooms, running away fast now; they had abandoned me. The bear quickened its pace. I saw, just beside me, one of the big sconces of candles, and I seized it in both hands and hurled it at the huge animal. The sconce crashed against its side and the bear jumped away with a roar, striking out at the sconce, which fell on to a little pile of straw. At once it caught light, flaring yellow. The bear stepped back, then fixed its angry pain-filled eyes on me. It rose to its hind legs again and charged. I cried out as I braced myself for the tearing claws.
Then I saw something flash by me. There was a dull thud and the bear jumped back. I looked, dizzily, at an arrow poking from its chest, the feathered end quivering. Another whistled by and buried itself in the bear’s fur, then another. It cried and thrashed the air with its claws until a fourth arrow landed in its chest, and must have pierced its heart, for with a dull grunt it crashed over sideways, landing in the pile of burning straw. It lay there, its pelt beginning to smoulder, beyond suffering at last.
I leaned against a pillar, shaking from head to foot, as a voice I recognized cried, ‘Get that fire out before it spreads! Water!’ The grooms dashed forward, together with two soldiers, beating at the fire with brooms until buckets were brought up and the flames extinguished. I stared foolishly at the red-coated soldiers, at the bows slung over their shoulders. A figure stepped before me: Sergeant Leacon.
‘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.’
<
br /> ‘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. Af
ter 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.