Sovereign (53 page)

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 hear 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.’

I
T 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.’