by C. J. Sansom
Two clerks walked past us, going into the quire. ‘Tomorrow?’ I heard one say to the other.
‘Ay. He’s tired of waiting, they’re packing up tonight and going on to Hull in the morning. The King’s said to be furious, perhaps that’s why the shrine angered him so.’
I turned to him. ‘Pardon me, sir. Is the King leaving?’
The old man smiled. ‘Ay sir. First thing tomorrow. He has given up on waiting for King James. They’re packing everything up at the camp already.’ He smiled, evidently pleased at the news.
I turned back to my companions. Our faces lit up with relief. ‘At last,’ Tamasin said. ‘God be praised!’
Chapter Thirty-one
WHEN WE RETURNED TO St Mary’s we found the scene already transformed. The royal tents were being taken down, men carefully wrapping the rich tapestries and furnishings and loading them on to carts.
An official posted in the yard stopped us. ‘Sirs, mistress. A moment please. Have you horses stabled in the church?’
‘Yes.’
‘Be sure you fetch them early tomorrow morning. All must be present in the courtyard by six.’
‘That early?’
‘Yes. The Progress is to be at Howlme on Spalding Moor by nightfall The King wants to shake the dust of York from his feet.’
‘Where will we sleep tomorrow?’ Barak asked.
‘In tents, of course, in the fields. Howlme Manor is big enough only for the royal household. Sir, excuse me.’ The official grabbed the arm of another man who had come in, and Barak grinned at Tamasin. ‘You’ll have to sleep in the mud tomorrow, Tammy.’
She tossed her head. ‘The Queen’s servants always have good tents.’ She made a face. ‘Well, usually.’ We laughed, our hearts lifted by the thought of moving on at last.
‘I had best check what the arrangements are for Broderick,’ I said to Barak. ‘I will see you later.’
‘D’you not want me to come with you?’
I hesitated. But surely I was safe in full daylight. ‘No. I will be safe among the soldiery. I will see you at the refectory in an hour.’
I left them and headed off to the cell. I thought about Giles. He had said he would arrive at King’s Manor at dawn; I hoped he would be able to find us in the mêlée there was bound to be tomorrow morning. He had returned home, to prepare for the journey that would end in London.
SERGEANT LEACON WAS standing guard over Broderick’s cell with a soldier. I greeted them.
‘Well, sir,’ the sergeant said. ‘So we are to be off at last. I am not sorry.’
‘Me neither. What is to happen with Broderick?’
‘He is to be put in a carriage with Radwinter. Sir William came and told us. He is relieved Broderick is to be moved at last. He will be in the Tower soon.’
‘Ay.’ I thought the news that had brought such relief to me only brought Broderick nearer to torture and death.
‘My men and I will ride alongside the carriage.’ The sergeant looked at me seriously. ‘It is to be close guarded, sealed from the rest of the Progress.’
‘How is he?’
‘Quiet, as usual. Radwinter is in with him now. He is back in charge.’ His face twisted with distaste.
I looked through the barred window. Broderick was lying on his bed, Radwinter kneeling beside him talking quietly. A candle was set by the bed. Broderick’s eyes glinted as he turned to look at me. Radwinter stood, frowned for a second, then came and unlocked the door. He gave me his mocking smile. ‘Master Shardlake. We have been looking forward to your visit, Sir Edward and I tire of each other.’
I entered the cell. It smelled rankly. ‘He fares well?’
‘Ay. And has eaten his meals like a good fellow.’ I looked at Broderick. He did not look well to me; his face had a yellow tinge.
‘He should have some exercise,’ I said.
Radwinter shook his head firmly. ‘No, he is not to be seen abroad. He is to be kept close till we reach London. Though it makes the hours hang heavy. To help them pass I have been telling Sir Edward tales of the Lollards’ Tower, some of the prisoners I have known.’
Broderick raised himself on one elbow. ‘He seeks to frighten me with accounts of the burnings and disembowellings he has sent people to. It is a relief to see even your long face, Master Shardlake.’ There was a hint of patrician disdain in his voice, reminding me he had once been a man of status.
‘We move on tomorrow, Sir Edward,’ I said. ‘Have you been told?’
Radwinter answered. ‘Ay. I’ve to rattle in a closed carriage with him all the way to Hull.’
‘We stop at a place called Howlme tomorrow night.’
Broderick nodded. ‘I know it well. The manor house used to belong to Sir Robert Constable, Robert Aske’s deputy in the Pilgrimage of Grace. Constable’s remains hang over the gates of Hull now, and the King stole his house at Howlme. ’Twas a fine mansion.’
I grunted, then nodded my head at the door. ‘A word, sir,’ I said to Radwinter. He followed me outside, telling the soldier to sit with Broderick. Clearly he was not to be left alone for a minute now.
Radwinter leaned against the wall and stared at me interrogatively. Sergeant Leacon stood looking on, leaning on his pike.
‘I am worried by how pale Broderick is. And that cell stinks. He needs air.’
‘He’ll be in the carriage tomorrow.’
‘I am not sure he is fit to travel.’
‘What you think does not matter. Those are the rules.’
I met his gaze. ‘I remember Cranmer said a man died under your care once. Were that to happen again, with this prisoner, I would not envy your position.’
I wondered if he would burst out in mocking anger, but he only nodded and smiled again. ‘We are all allowed one mistake, Master Shardlake. The circumstances were quite different. Shall I tell you what happened?’
‘Well?’
He shifted his position, making himself more comfortable. ‘It was seven years ago, when the King had not long married Anne Boleyn. There was a Dominican monk from a house in Hertfordshire who had come to London and was preaching that the King’s break with Rome meant he was condemned by God. He was brought before the Archbishop but would say nothing about who was feeding and sheltering him. Your old master Cromwell wanted him taken to the Tower so the information could be racked out of him, but the Archbishop decided a sojourn in the Lollards’ Tower might be sufficient to cool him down and loosen his tongue. He was put under my care and I was told to deal with him strictly, and find out what I could.’
‘And?’
‘He was quite unrepentant. When I gave him an English book of prayers to read he threw it across the cell. So I decided to bring him to his senses by hanging him from the ceiling by his wrists, his toes just touching the floor. I am told the Scotch have a variant where they hang you by your thumbs, but of course the thumbs are wrenched out after a while and I wanted this Brother Frederick to suffer a good while.’
I gave him a look of disgust, which perhaps was what he had been waiting for.
He smiled again. ‘That silenced the good old brother. It is hard to breathe in that position, as well as very painful. But I had not realized Brother Frederick had a weakness of the heart. Oh, I should have considered the possibility, I see that now; he was fat and had a high colour and wheezed when he was led up the stairs to the Lollards’ Tower. On the second day I found him hanging dead in his chains. The Archbishop was sore angry with me, I confess. He sent me on a visit to the Tower, where I learned from the experts how to judge how much a man may take.’
‘Cranmer did that?’
‘Yes.’ Radwinter inclined his head. ‘So now I have the skill to weigh a man’s condition.’
‘You are a vile creature,’ I said.
‘You feel sorry for that monk, crookback? Well, reflect that his death was easier than being drawn and quartered for treason. I did the churl a favour.’
I turned away, but he called me back.
‘I hea
r you have been talking to Broderick while I was away. About who has the right to the throne. You mentioned the Queen may be pregnant.’ I looked at him in surprise. ‘Oh, the soldier outside listened to your converse, as I ordered him to. You had strict orders not to question him.’
‘It was merely conversation,’ I said dismissively.
‘Was it?’ Radwinter looked at me. ‘Sometimes I wonder if you have some private agenda, Master Shardlake, whether your concern for the prisoner is more than soft stupid pity. If it is, beware.’
I THOUGHT ANXIOUSLY on Radwinter’s words as I ate with Barak in the refectory. It was full of people snatching a quick meal before making their preparations for leaving. There was much shouting and calling, a palpable air of relief that the Progress was on the move again, on its final leg before the return to London.
I went over what I had said to Broderick a few days before. Nothing incriminating or dangerous. I had been careful, although I had not thought Radwinter would go so far as to get one of the soldiers to eavesdrop on me. He had bribed the man, no doubt. I wondered whether to report it to Sergeant Leacon, but decided to leave it. I must not take any risks with Broderick again.
‘How long do you think it will be before we reach London?’ Barak asked.
‘Three or four days to Hull perhaps, then maybe a week on the boat. Much will depend on the weather while we are at sea. Quicker than riding back, anyway.’
‘There’s been no trouble for a week,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Do you think maybe whoever attacked you has given up?’
‘I hope so. I’m not relaxing my guard.’
He smiled. ‘Well, in a couple of weeks we may be safe, back working at Lincoln’s Inn. Back to the grind.’
My heart lifted. ‘You’re definitely coming back to work in Chambers?’
‘Looks like it.’
‘When we get to Hull I will try to secure a place for Giles on the boat, and Tamasin too. Someone might have to be bribed but between us Giles and I could manage that.’
‘Thank you,’ he said quietly.
I SLEPT UNEASILY, for the work of moving and loading went on through the night, with a constant shouting and rattling of carts. I rose at the first light of dawn and dressed, putting on my coat and donning my riding boots for the first time since we had arrived. Some of the clerks were awake already, standing round the fire while one tried to light it. I gave them a cold nod and went outside.
It was a cool, damp day, the sky covered with a canopy of high milky cloud. Barak was already up, standing in the doorway looking out at the courtyard. It had been stripped almost bare. The paddocks that had housed the animals were being dismantled.
‘St Mary’s last moment of glory over,’ he said. ‘I hear the King has ordered the last windows taken out of the church, and the roof taken off.’
I looked at the church, its spire lost in mist again, remembering poor Oldroyd.
After breakfasting we walked to the church to fetch the horses. The carpenters were at work dismantling the pavilions now. What a vast amount of money and labour had been wasted. Servants from the royal household were carefully wrapping up a huge tapestry, glinting with gold leaf, in a waterproof cover. It was forty feet long and it took four men to roll it up, with infinite care, soldiers standing guard around the precious thing. There was a tremendous bustle around the main doors of the church, which had been thrown wide open. People were leading their horses out and taking their places among the groups that were forming all around the yard. We went inside into a great crush as people jostled up and down the rows of stalls, peering round the high walls in search of their animals. Most had already been saddled. I saw Sergeant Leacon among the throng. ‘Are you riding today?’ I asked.
‘Ay, if I can get to my horse.’
I felt myself pushed roughly against a stall, and turned angrily. ‘Make way there. Queen’s household.’ Surrounded by a retinue of servants who shoved aside everyone in their path, a group of courtiers was leading their horses towards the doors. I recognized Francis Dereham. Seeing me, he gave an unpleasant smile. The courtiers passed, and Barak and I returned to the stalls.
‘Take care, sir, take care!’ A woman’s voice I recognized, calling sharply. I saw Jennet Marlin just ahead. A young courtier was trying to calm his horse, which was tossing its head and neighing, upset by the crowd. It threatened to flatten Mistress Marlin against a stall. Barak stepped forward. ‘Look out!’ he called. ‘There’s a woman there.’ He helped the man calm the horse, while I gave Mistress Marlin my arm and helped her away from the animal. She gave me a startled look.
‘You? Oh – thank you.’
‘Are you seeking your horse?’
‘Yes, she is down here somewhere.’
Barak and I helped her find the stall containing her animal, a grey palfrey, ready saddled.
‘Come with us,’ I said. ‘We’ll just find our own.’
She coloured. ‘No, I am all right now. Thank you. I am obliged.’ She took her horse by the reins and led it away.
‘Doesn’t like to be seen as a poor weak woman,’ Barak said.
‘She certainly has her pride.’ We made our way to the stalls where Sukey and Genesis stood, ready saddled like the others. We led them out, not without difficulty for both were nervous. Barak’s Sukey had always been temperamental but I was surprised how skittish my normally calm Genesis was. ‘What a mêlée,’ I said. ‘This hasn’t been well organized. Someone could be trampled.’
IT WAS A RELIEF to get out of the church again. Little groups of men had formed all round the churchyard now, some mounted, some standing holding their horses: the households of the various nobles and officials and, by the gates, the King’s and Queen’s households. There was, too, a clutch of lawyers and clerks, grouped around the white-bearded Sir James Fealty. I saw him glance at us and cross a couple of names off a list he carried.
Among the Queen’s household I saw Tamasin sitting on a grey palfrey, next to Jennet Marlin on her palfrey, still looking a little flustered. Nearby Lady Rochford was resplendent in a plum-coloured cloak and sitting on a big black mare, next to Sir Richard Rich on a big grey. Looking at the King’s household I was disconcerted to see Maleverer among the brightly dressed throng. Was he to accompany the Progress? It was not a thought that pleased me. I sensed someone else looking at me and glanced round just in time to see Thomas Culpeper turn his handsome head away.
Master Craike sat nearby, on a strong-looking roan. Mounted as he was, he still had his portable desk round his neck. He was riffling through papers, but he too caught my eye. He hesitated and I guessed he would have preferred not to acknowledge me, but he smiled uncertainly. ‘Good day, Master Shardlake.’
‘Master Craike.’ I made my voice cheerful. ‘By Jesu, there is great confusion in that stable.’
‘Ay. I fetched my horse early.’
‘You will be busy now we are moving again.’
‘Yes, I leave in a minute. I have to ride ahead to Howlme Manor and see all is ready for the King.’
‘I gather we should wait with the other lawyers.’
‘Yes, ’ he said, ‘though you may be waiting some time. The royal households will pass out first, with the King and Queen, then the officers of the royal households and the households of the nobles. The various officials come next. I am afraid the lawyers are at the back. After you will come all the servants from the camp and the wagons. Everything must be done in the correct sequence.’
‘Of course.’
He looked over to the manor house. A servant stood pruning the roses set round the side, carefully setting the thorny branches in a cart, oblivious to the noise and bustle all round. The manor, I assumed, would revert to its original function as a headquarters for the Council of the North. ‘The King is in a great fury that James of Scotland has let him down,’ Craike said. ‘He threatens fierce measures against the Scotch. I think they will pay for this.’
‘That would be –’ I sought a neutral word ‘– characteristic
of him.’
‘Ay.’ There was a moment’s awkward silence, then Craike smiled nervously. ‘Well, sir, I shall be on the move constantly now. I may not see you again.’
‘In that case, farewell.’
‘Farewell,’ he said, and then, quietly, ‘thank you.’ He turned his horse and rode away to the gate.
Barak looked after him thoughtfully. ‘Poor old arsehole,’ he said.
‘Ay. Still, Genesis!’ My horse had jumped to one side with a whinny.
‘Let’s not mount just yet,’ Barak said. ‘Give the horses time to calm themselves.’
‘All right. Look, there’s Giles. But where’s his horse?’
The old man had come in at the gates. He was carrying a heavy pannier and seemed flustered. He stood looking round, overtopping by a head many of those who walked around his burly form. I waved him over and he walked slowly across to us.
‘Ah, Matthew,’ he said breathlessly. ‘There you are, and Barak, good morning. I fear I have a problem. My horse got a sharp stone in her shoe last night, she cannot possibly ride out. I did not know what to do.’
‘There will be spare horses,’ Barak said.
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘But they will be over at the camp, we cannot get one now.’
‘Take Sukey,’ Barak said. ‘I’ll walk beside you. Then later I’m sure we can find a horse for you.’
Giles looked at him with relief. ‘Thank you, young Barak. Are you sure?’
‘Ay, take Sukey.’
‘Genesis would be better,’ I said. ‘Barak’s mare might not like being ridden by a stranger. I can ride Sukey, she knows me. You take Genesis. He is a calm horse.’
‘Thank you again, sir.’ Giles laughed uneasily. ‘I do not know what I would do without you.’
An official came up and compared notes with Fealty, who turned and addressed us. ‘I want you all mounted now,’ he called out.
‘Here, let me help you.’ Barak formed a stirrup of his hands for the old man to mount Genesis.