Sovereign (29 page)

‘What now?’

‘I thought of something, sir.’

‘Well?’

I told him of my work in Ashford, my recollection of the name Blaybourne. ‘I thought you should know, sir. With so many Kentishmen among the guard.’

He grunted. ‘So he was from Kent, was he? Well, that fits with what we know. Interesting.’ His mouth twisted into a sardonic smile. ‘But not useful. Edward Blaybourne died long
before you or I were born, Master Shardlake. I have been with the Privy Council this afternoon. I have learned much about him.’ He shot me a hard look. ‘Secret matters.’

‘Then I am sorry to disturb you.’

‘Someone from the Privy Council has been deputed to see you tomorrow. To go over what you know, remind you to keep silence, twist your tail for your foolishness.’ He seemed to have
recovered his confidence; no doubt he had been able to convince the Privy Council that everything was my fault.

‘You still have charge of Broderick. Visit him before you go to bed. I want you to see him at least once every day, check on his welfare. Get one of the guards to take you to his
cell.’

‘Yes, Sir William.’

‘And I have had words with Master Radwinter, told him to make no more mistakes.’ He waved a hand in dismissal and gave me a look of amusement, a cruel look.

A
GUARD LED ME
deep into the complex of monastic buildings grouped round the church. Here the monks of St Mary’s had lived and worked; now the
rooms were mostly empty and stripped of furniture, though some had been fitted out with beds to accommodate the host who would be coming tomorrow. The guard led me down a narrow, stone-flagged
corridor at the heart of the warren, stopping at the end where a wisp of candlelight came though a barred window in a stout door. Two of Sergeant Leacon’s men, who had accompanied us to the
castle earlier, stood guard.

‘How does he fare?’ I asked.

‘Just lays there quietly, sir. The physician has been again, says he is improved.’

‘Thank Jesu for that. Where is Radwinter?’

‘With him now, sir. Shall I let you in?’

I nodded. He unlocked the door. Broderick lay on his blankets, asleep. Radwinter sat on his haunches beside him, looking into the prisoner’s sleeping face, his expression one of
concentrated, malevolent anger. He looked round when I entered, then rose to his feet with a suppleness I envied.

‘I hear he is better,’ I said quietly.

‘He sleeps. And I have to sleep with him. I must even share his pisspot. ’Tis Sir William’s way of showing his discontent.’

‘Has he said anything?’

‘No. He was conscious earlier. I asked him what happened, but he only repeated his nonsense about the King having poisoned him. If only I had a free hand, I would have the truth out of
him, I’d have him humbled.’

‘If it was that easy, they would not be taking him to London.’

He gave me that icy, glittering-eyed look of his. ‘There is a way to scare and humble every man, Master Shardlake. It is merely a question of finding it.’

I
MADE MY WAY
back to our lodgings. Again a few clerks sat playing cards. I nodded at them curtly, then knocked at the door of Barak’s cubicle.

‘Ay?’

‘ ’Tis I. I would talk.’ I went into my cubicle and sat down on the bed, suddenly exhausted. Barak entered. He had a jaunty air about him.

‘You’re back, then,’ I said. ‘I thought you might have found a quiet spot with Mistress Reedbourne.’

‘Not with Mistress Marlin guarding her. She had a fierce look after you left her. I wondered where you had gone, so suddenly.’

‘I have been to see the prisoner while you have been dallying.’

‘How is he?’

‘Radwinter stands guard over him like the midwife of Hell. As for Mistress Jennet Marlin, she thinks you are after Tamasin to find a position as a court servant.’

He laughed. ‘A murrain on her. She fears to lose Tamasin.’

‘Why does she value the girl so?’ I asked. ‘They seem unlikely friends.’

‘I asked Tamasin about that. Mistress Jennet likes Tama-sin’s merry ways, it seems. Says they take her mind from her troubles. Her swain in the Tower.’ He shrugged impatiently.
‘Who can fathom the hearts of women?’

‘I had the pleasure of her company on the way back. She seems to dislike me very much. Thinks I am one of those who would do anything for office and profit. She was so fierce, I am not
sure she is not a little brainsick.’

‘I asked Tamasin about Lady Rochford,’ Barak said. ‘Apparently the women are all afraid of her, she does nothing but gossip maliciously about everyone. They say she was paid to
bring gossip to Lord Cromwell about the wives she served as lady’s maid. Jane Seymour, then Anne of Cleves.’

‘And Catherine Howard?’

‘Apparently she and Queen Catherine have become close, but Tamasin says the Queen should not trust her one inch. Mistress Marlin does not like Lady Rochford either. Says she has no
morals.’

‘Who does, in that court? Our self-righteous Mistress Marlin is a naïve woman, I think.’ I sighed. ‘Well, what will you do while I am greeting the Progress tomorrow? See
Tamasin again?’

‘She will be busy preparing for the Queen’s arrival. I might walk into town, see the Progress enter.’ He looked at me. ‘Tamasin thought you were a little sharp with her,
when we were talking about the Queen.’

‘I cannot forget her trickery. But also, I had had bad news.’ I told him of Giles Wrenne’s illness, his request that I help him find his nephew.

‘Poor old arsehole.’ Barak shivered. ‘That’s hard.’

‘I said you would help him too, when we get back to London.’

‘Ay. All right. I wish we were there now.’

‘Me too.’ I paused. ‘When Mistress Marlin was talking about Tamasin, she mentioned the girl had no one in the world. She said her mother was dead, but made no mention of her
father. She has a little money, apparently, from her grandmother.’

‘Tamasin does not know who her father was. Her mother would never tell her. Someone around the court, though, for that was the only world her mother knew, working in the Queen’s
sewery. She has some ideas, but does not know.’

‘Oh?’

He looked uncomfortable. ‘Girlish fancies.’

I smiled. ‘Fancies she is a nobleman’s daughter, perhaps?’ He shrugged, and I saw I had hit the mark. ‘Will you see more of Tamasin, when we are all back home?’ I
asked with deliberate casualness.

‘Perhaps.’

I think you will, I thought. I think you are smitten, perhaps for the first time in your roisterous life. I wondered if this meant he would stay with me.

‘Tamasin has seen the Queen, you know,’ he said.

‘Yes, she told me.’

‘Says she is more like a girl than a woman. There is some trouble because she has given her old friend Dereham a job and now he has come here trying to give Lady Rochford orders about the
arrangements. Tamasin says it has put the old witch in a fine temper.’

I shrugged. I was not interested in the gossip that went on in the royal household.

Barak was silent a moment, then said in more serious tones, ‘I have been thinking about Master Craike, wondering what he was up to last night.’

I nodded slowly. ‘Yes. If anyone has a free run of St Mary’s it is him. And he was up and about when Oldroyd was killed. And in his post he could get keys easily. Like the keys to
the chapterhouse.’

‘Yet as you said, nothing was found when he was searched.’

‘What if he had an accomplice? What if they spoke to Oldroyd and he refused to give up the papers? They kill him. Then I turn up with them at King’s Manor.’

‘And the accomplice hit you and got away, while Craike stayed there. But why not kill you, knowing you’d seen some of the papers at least?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said heavily. ‘And somehow I can’t see Craike involved in the conspiracy. I can’t see him having the nerve for dangerous work. And
what’s the connection to Broderick? Is it the same people trying to poison him?’

‘Why? If they’re on the same side, the side of the conspirators?’

‘Perhaps he asked for poison to be brought,’ I said slowly. ‘At the moment he is speaking in riddles. If he was given a way to kill himself, that would stop him ever talking.
But how was it done?’ I sat frowning a moment. ‘These damned papers, I think they hold something of value to the conspirators. They must do, to have the Privy Council involved. People
involved in the conspiracy, seeking the papers and also trying to put Broderick out of the way so he can’t tell what he knows.’

‘If they were conspirators, why did Oldroyd not give up the papers to them?’

‘Perhaps he was unsure of them. Jesu, they gave him a dreadful death. And yet spared me. By accident or design. By God, I hope they meant to spare me.’ I took a deep breath.
‘Someone from the Privy Council is to interview me tomorrow, no doubt after the presentation to the King. That I am not looking forward to.’

‘They might send us home,’ Barak said.

I smiled wryly. ‘That’s what I hope. I’d not mind that, even if it’s in disgrace. I want no more of this matter. A pox on Cranmer for involving me with Broderick.’
I stretched my arms above my head. ‘Dear God, Barak,’ I said passionately. ‘I wish tomorrow was over.’

I
WAS WAKENED BY
cocks crowing. Not one or two but dozens, a tremendous cacophony. I lay puzzled for a moment, then
realized it was the fighting cocks in the monastery church. All round the cubicles people coughed and groaned and cursed the birds.

The sun was rising in a sky of unrelieved blue and when I opened the window I felt warm air for the first time in York. As the song had promised, the King had banished rain. So superstitious
folk would say. I looked up at the great bulk of the church, realizing it was the first morning the huge spire had not been wreathed in mist. It pointed to the sky like a huge dead finger.

I dressed in my best robe, adjusting the fur trim, then put on my coif and above that my new cap, for which I had hunted out a new pin. Arranging it carefully, the brim leaning to the left to
hide my bruise, I left the cubicle.

All around the clerks were smoothing clothes and checking their faces in steel mirrors. There was none of the usual bantering conversation today; everyone was preoccupied, serious, preparing
mentally for their allotted role. Barak, dressed in a red doublet, stood leaning on the door of his cubicle, watching the clerks with a sardonic smile.

‘What are you doing?’ I asked.

‘Watching these fellows. Thought I’d wait for you, see if you wanted to take breakfast in the refectory. You should have something to eat, you do not know when you may get
lunch.’

‘Ay, let’s eat,’ I said, touched by his concern. ‘How do I look?’

‘Dressy. Doesn’t suit you. But that bruise is well hidden.’

We walked across to the refectory, which was full of clerks and minor officials, likewise snatching a meal while they could. The carpenters were no doubt all abed, their work done at last. Here
too there was an air of tension, and little talk. Everyone jumped and looked round when a groom dropped a plate of cold meat and it clattered on the floor. ‘God’s body!’ he
yelled. ‘There’s grease all over my damned tunic now!’

Barak grinned. ‘It’s getting too much for some folk.’

‘All right for you,’ I murmured. ‘Don’t tire yourself out walking round the town,’ I added sardonically, as we parted on the refectory steps. He gave me a mock
salute and I turned, joining a steady stream of the well-dressed heading for the manor house. I felt as though I were on a ship, leaving for a voyage to a far, unfamiliar shore.