Sovereign (45 page)

The monastic church was inhabited by a number of grooms who slept on blankets in the straw near the horses, their forms illuminated by candles burning in big iron sconces, five feet high. The
gentlemen’s horses – over a hundred of them – stood quietly in their stalls, each stall with a paper pinned to the door with the name of the owner. It was a good system, enabling
the horses owned by individuals to be readily available, while the huge herd of carthorses was left to browse in the fields. We walked down until I came to Genesis’ and Sukey’s stalls,
side by side.

‘Let’s see how the horses are,’ I said.

‘All right.’

A young groom, rolled in his blanket on a pile of hay in the nave, sat up sleepily. He was a round-faced fellow in his teens, his smock covered with pieces of straw.

‘Who is it?’ He looked dubiously at our poor clothes.

‘We are the owners of these horses. We just came to see how they do.’

‘They are all well, sir.’

‘Good. Go back to sleep, fellow, we will only be a moment.’ We went over and spoke with the horses a little, stroking them. Genesis seemed happy enough in his stall but Barak’s
Sukey was restless and pulled away from his hand.

‘Are you bored, here, Sukey?’ he asked. ‘Nothing to do? Well, hopefully we will soon be on our way. It all depends on the King of the Scotch.’

‘We walk them up and down the nave.’ The groom had got up. ‘We can’t take them out. There’s so much going on in the courtyard, we’re not allowed.’

‘I understand.’

‘When do you think King James will come, sir?’ he asked. ‘We are all anxious to move on again.’

‘I wish I knew,’ I said with a smile. ‘Well, we must to bed. Goodnight.’

We walked on to the open north door of the church that led to the courtyard where the lodging house and the animal pens were. Barak looked left, along to the claustral buildings at the other end
of the courtyard.

‘Waiting for you there, is she?’

‘Ay.’

‘Go on. I can walk to the lodging house alone.” I felt guilty for annoying him earlier.

‘Sure?’

‘Ay. Off you go. No one’s followed us through the church, I was looking out.’

He left me, and I turned along the path to the lodging house. Beside a pen full of black-faced sheep I saw the bear standing upright in its cage, resting its clawed arms on the iron bars of its
cage. As I walked past it made a whimpering sound. I stopped and looked. Poor bruin, it must be in pain from its wounds. I stopped a few feet from the cage and studied it. It made a low, angry
growling sound and shifted its stance. Its little eyes glinted at me. I caught a rank smell from the thick fur.

I thought of how it would have been captured in some far-off German forest, brought over to England in a boat, suffered taunts and beatings to keep it savage, then let loose in an arena full of
dogs. The King would have relished that spectacle, I thought.

I heard a creak, metal against metal. I stared round wildly for at once I thought of the spit at the camp. But no one and nothing was near. I looked back at the cage. Something was different.
Then I realized the door was opening. I saw a rope was fixed to the top, it was being pulled upwards from the back of the cage. The bear stepped back, its eyes still fixed on me. There was a clang
as the door suddenly crashed back on the cage roof.

The beast stepped out and stood for a moment on the path, looking straight at me. There was a frantic bleating from the sheep-pen. The bear let out a hoarse roar and waved its big forelegs at
me, the moonlight glinting on its long curved claws.

I stepped backwards. My hand went to my dagger, but it would be useless against a charge by this creature. The bear dropped to all fours and began walking towards me, growling horribly. It
dragged one of its hind legs, which must have been injured in the baiting before the King; otherwise it would have been upon me in seconds. Even so it moved fast, its big claws scraping on the
path. I turned and ran, back to the open door of the church, and raced inside; fearing every moment to feel those claws raking my back, the terrible weight of the huge creature felling me to the
earth.

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?

S
ERGEANT
L
EACON
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?’