'All night?' I asked.
'Yes, sir.'
'That's strange,' Russell said. 'He's waiting for us,' I said quietly.
A
fter we had
eaten there was nothing to do but wait for dawn. We all fell silent. Dean Benson sat by himself, pretending to read a book that trembled in his plump hands. Some of Sir Thomas' men closed their eyes to catch a little rest while they could; Barak too. I was too tense; I sat instead and looked out of the window. At length the light began to change, the sky outlined in dark grey instead of black. I heard the birdsong begin, a few cheeps at first then growing louder. Russell looked enquiringly at Sir Thomas. He nodded, and stood. Men who were awake nudged their dozing comrades. I could feel the tension rising around the room.
'Time to go in,' Sir Thomas said. 'Come, all of you, look at this plan.'
When we were all gathered round the table, Sir Thomas pointed with a gloved hand at the rough
-
drawn map. 'I'll post eight men around the house, in the woods. The rest go into the house, with me. And you, young Barak.' He turned to where I stood, the first notice he had taken of me. 'Also you, master crookback, I want you to go in too. Goddard has shown great interest in you.'
'Very well,' I said quietly. My heart raced.
'Coroner Harsnet, come with us, but I do not want you to go into the house. Magistrate Goodridge, I would like you to lead us there. You know the way. Dean Benson, you can keep your fat little rump on this chair here.'
The dean's shoulders sagged with relief.
Outside, a couple of pails had been set in the yard. They were full of mud. At Russell's request we all blackened our faces with the stuff, that we might not be seen while we were watching the house. As we went outside I heard the steward suggest to Sir Thomas that perhaps he should cover his fine clothes with a cloak. He acquiesced with a sigh, putting on a cloak fetched from the innkeeper. As I blackened my face I saw him look at the rough material with disgust. I thought, how many men of high estate are protected from their foolishness by their servants. Sir Thomas scowled as he caught me watching him. I thought, why does he dislike me so? Perhaps I offended his ideals of what a man should be and should look like, as once I had offended the King.
W
e set off
along the country lanes as the sun rose over the fields, revealing trees dusted with the light green of new leaves. A woman passed through a cattle meadow with pails hanging from a shoulder harness, milking the fat kine that gave the village its name. Wood-smoke rose from some of the poor houses dotted along the lanes, but no one was out ploughing or sowing yet. The woman stared in astonishment at the troop of armed men.
'There'll be gossip in the village soon,' Barak said.
We arrived at length at a stretch of woodland. The house was set in a little hollow in the middle; we caught a glimpse of it before descending into the trees. In the early light I saw an old manor house of white stone. A plume of smoke rose from one of the tall brick chimneys. Russell whispered to his men to move through the wood as quietly as possible.
We moved slowly forward to the edge of the trees, and found ourselves looking across a stretch of long, unkempt grass that had once been a lawn, to the house. All the windows were shuttered. But for that thin plume of smoke from a chimney the place looked abandoned; ivy and streaks of green mould half covered the walls. Russell disposed his men among the trees with whispers and gestures. Around us the birds were singing loudly. Russell's air of military efficiency and the numbers we commanded made me dare to hope that perhaps we might prevail.
'What is Goddard doing in there?' Harsnet, next to me, whispered.
'Whatever it is, we have him trapped now, surely,' Barak said.
'We shall see before this day is out,' Harsnet answered grimly.
'If we catch him, Cranmer wants him killed, doesn't he?' I asked. 'That was what he meant when he said the matter must be closed tonight.'
'Do you think he is wrong?'
'It goes against the things I believe.'
'I do not like it either; I am a man of the law too.' He looked at me. 'But how could we bring him to trial, let out the fact that the Archbishop and the Seymours have been conducting a private hunt? And he is an unclean creature, such as should be quietly destroyed in the dark.'
I glanced over to where Sir Thomas, Russell and Magistrate Goodridge were deep in quiet conversation. 'We are all pawns in a political game, Master Harsnet,' I said with sudden feeling.
'But who moves the pieces? Some would say the King, but I say God moves his servants, to his greater purposes.'
'God's stratagems,' I said. 'Many people get hard use from those, Gregory.'
Chapter
Forty
-
one
W
e turned as
Russell walked quietly towards us. 'We are ready to go in,' he said. 'Sir Thomas, me, Barak, Serjeant Shardlake, and six others. Ten men. We'll rush the house, break in, then two groups of two search upstairs, another two groups search downstairs. The rest of the men will stay in the woods, ready to catch him should he flee.' He looked around him.
Sir Thomas appeared. 'I will lead,' he said. He took a deep breath, then marched out of the trees towards the house, stepping quietly and carefully. We followed silently. Sir Thomas reached the lawn, stepping out into the thick grass. Then we all jumped as a great tumult of sound erupted at his feet and a host of white shapes darted up from the grass. Sir Thomas let out a cry, and behind him came the whistling sound of swords being drawn from scabbards. Then Barak laughed. 'It's geese,' he said. 'A flock of geese!' I saw that twenty angry birds were flying away over the grass, honking angrily.
Sir Thomas stood where he was, staring at the house. Nothing happened, but the strutting courtier looked suddenly vulnerable out there alone.
'This is dangerous,' I said to Barak. 'Those geese were set to warn of intruders, it's common enough in country places. He knows we are here now.' I looked at the blank, shuttered windows. 'We've lost surprise.'
Russell stepped out of the wood to join his master, waving to the rest of us, and we all loped through the grass and up to the front door. It was covered by a porch whose planks were rotted with damp, but the door itself looked strong enough.
'Kick it in,' Sir Thomas said brusquely, nodding to a large young man. He stepped forward and drew back a booted foot. Before he could launch a kick, Barak stepped forward quickly and grasped the handle. The door opened, smoothly, on well-oiled hinges.
'He's making it easy for us,' he said.
We gathered round the doorway, looking in. With the shutters closed the interior was dim in the new dawn. I made out bare floorboards with old dry rushes on them and heavy, dusty furniture. Sir Thomas shouldered his way through and stepped inside. I thought, he does not lack courage. We followed him in, our eyes darting around fearfully.
We were in a large old entrance hall, a big wooden screen at the far end. On either side of it, two staircases ascended to a first
-
floor balcony with rooms leading off. Behind each of the two staircases a hallway led to further ground
-
floor rooms behind.
Sir Thomas walked to the heavy old wooden screen, pointed his sword into the space behind it, then threw it over. It hit the floor with a bang, raising great clouds of dust. Behind it there was nothing but a shabby old wall
-
hanging. The great crash had resounded through the house but as its echoes died away there was a resumption of deep silence, broken only by men coughing from the dust.
Russell spoke, rapping out orders. 'You two, up that staircase. You two, the other one. I'll take the left-hand doorway with Brown.'
'Master Shardlake and I will take the right-hand doorway,' Barak said.
'Very well. Master Harsnet, Sir Thomas, please be ready to help secure any rat that comes running out.'
Harsnet nodded soberly. Sir Thomas smiled and laid a hand on his scabbard. 'I'll be ready to deal with him.' I realized he meant to kill him; Goddard would not get out of here alive.
Men began running to the steward's directions, their swords drawn. Footsteps echoed on the stairs. I followed Barak towards the right-hand doorway. Barak spoke, his voice a murmur. 'I saw a faint light down here,' he whispered. 'Now I will get him.' He gripped his sword firmly in his uninjured arm.
He was right. As we passed into a dusty hallway of shuttered windows, I saw that a door at the far end was half open. A dim red light came from inside, flickering softly. It must be the room where the fire was lit. I felt heat wafting out. Then a tinkling of breaking glass sounded, and we became aware of another sound within the room, a low continual hissing, like a disturbed adder.
'What in God's name is that?' I whispered. I stared at Barak, wide-eyed. 'What's going on?'
'I don't know.' Barak hesitated, then walked steadily on, his sword held before him. He reached the doorway and stood listening for a second. The hissing was louder now. With a backward glance at me, he pushed the door open. We stared in, at a scene that might have come from Hell itself.
The room was large, probably the master bedroom. In one wall a large fireplace was set, and a fire burned brightly there, making the room stifling. Straight ahead of us was the only furnitu
re in the room, an ornate, high-
backed chair, such as a high official might use. A man was sitting there, dressed in the black robe of a Benedictine monk, the hood raised over his head. The face was middle
-
aged, with high cheekbones. The man stared straight at us, flames reflected from the fire dancing in his eyes. There was a large mole on one side of his long nose, a red gash across one cheek. Goddard stared at us. His lips were drawn back into a terrible, triumphant smile. One arm rested on the chair
-
arm, the other hung over the side. Beneath it lay a smashed lamp: that must have been the tinkling sound we heard. The candle within it still burned on the floor, on top of a thin
trail of grey ash
like stuff. The ash led to a hissing, sparkling fire that was running quickly down a trail of dark powder to two large barrels under the shuttered window. It was at the far end of the room; we might not reach it before it burned down. I saw the shutters were not quite closed.
For once I reacted quicker than Barak, who seemed transfixed by the sight of the gunpowder trail. I grabbed his arm, twirled him round and shouted, 'Run!'
We fled the room, back down the corridor. Sir Thomas, Russell and Harsnet stared at us. 'Get everybody out, now!' I yelled. 'There's gunpowder, he's going to blow up the house!'
I heard footsteps running towards us from all over the building. Those in the hall were already running for the door. Barak and I followed, with huge strides, almost leaping.
Then I felt a hot heavy impact at my back. It blew me off my feet as though I was a doll. Everything round me seemed to quiver, though strangely I heard no sound. My last thought before losing consciousness was, he did it, he made the earth quake.
Chapter
Forty-t
wo
W
hen
I
woke
my first terrible thought was that I was dead and had been sent to Hell for my unbelief, for all around me was smoke, lit from behind by fire. Then I saw white circular lights moving in the smoke. One approached and for a dizzy moment I feared to see a demon, but the shape resolved itself into Harsnet's face, looking shocked and streaked with smoke
-
marks. He knelt beside me and
I
realized
I
was lying on my side on damp grass, and then that my back was bare, for a chill breeze wafted across it.
'Stay still, Master Shardlake,' Harsnet said in soothing tones. 'Your back is burned, not badly but the village healing man has been, he has applied some lavender to it.' I became conscious then that my back hurt; at the same time the echo of a distant, tremendous explosion seemed to sound in my ears. I realized that Harsnet's voice sounded strangely muffled.
I sat up, shaking my head. A blanket half covered me and I pulled it round to cover my bare back, a movement that hurt it, making me wince.
'I said that was the first thing you'd do when you woke up,' a voice beside me said. I turned to see Barak beside me, his lower half also covered with a blanket. Other men were lying in similar positions all over the long grass of the lawn. I turned my neck painfully. Behind me, at the far end of the lawn, the Goddard house was ablaze from end to end, flames and smoke belching from the windows and from the collapsed roof.
'He had gunpowder,' I said, clutching Harsnet's arm. 'He was in there, he lit the barrels—'
'Yes,' the coroner said gently. 'It is over. The back of the house has collapsed and the rest is burning fast. You saved our lives, sir, by calling out to us.'