Sovereign (38 page)

I turned the heavy parchment pages. And there it was, among the Acts for the year 1484. The Act I had glimpsed in Oldroyd’s box, the same heading:
Titulus Regulus.
The title of the
King. ‘An Act for the Settlement of the Crown upon the King and his Issue . . .’ My heart began to pound. I examined the binding, studied the seal of Parliament at the foot, compared it
with the Acts before and after. This was an authentic copy, bound here half a century ago. I thought, this Act is no forgery. Maleverer lied. But I had never heard of it; at some point this Act had
been expunged from the Parliamentary record, quietly suppressed.

Now I read it through. It was short, only five pages. It was couched as an address to King Richard III, stating why the Lords and Commons wished him to take the throne. After much flowery
language about the decay of the country, it turned to the marriage of King Edward IV. This was a story I vaguely remembered. King Edward, our King’s grandfather, had married a commoner,
Elizabeth Woodville, though it had been alleged he had already had a contract of marriage, that he had been, as the Act said, in

The Act related that since the next heir, the Duke of Clarence and his line, had been disbarred for treason, the next in line was the Duke of Gloucester –
Richard
III,

I sat back in my chair. No wonder Maleverer had wanted knowledge of this Act kept hidden. My mind went back to the family tree. King Henry’s principal claim to the throne came through his
mother, the daughter of Edward IV. If she was illegitimate, Henry VIII had no real claim to the throne. And that meant the issue of George Duke of Clarence were the true heirs, which explained why
Margaret of Salisbury and her son had been butchered in the Tower. I got up abruptly and walked agitatedly around the room.

But my lawyer’s instincts reasserted themselves. I had heard the story of King Edward’s precontract before, it was not a secret. And precontracts were slippery things, difficult to
prove. Any man who wished to nullify his marriage could say he had promised to marry another before he and his wife were betrothed; I had heard of husbands who had paid women to swear falsely they
had a precontract, to escape an unwanted marriage. And King Edward, his queen Elizabeth Woodville and this Dame Eleanor Butler had all been dead half a century, nothing could be proved now –
unless there was a written contract, and there could not have been, for such conclusive evidence would have been referred to in the
Titulus
. No, the whole thing read of a cobbling together
of whatever reasons could be found to justify Richard’s seizure of the throne after the fact; he had already been king a year when this Act was passed in 1484. Revelation of the
Titulus
now would be an embarrassment, but not a real threat.

I read it through again, carefully. One passage puzzled me, that description of Richard as ‘
the undoubted Son and heir of Richard late Duke of York
’. Had someone suggested
Richard was a bastard? The child of Cecily Neville and
someone else
? I remembered the strange comment Maleverer had bitten off when I told him about the family tree. ‘Oh yes,’ he
had said. ‘Everything starts with Cecily Neville.’ Yet that made no sense either. If Richard III was illegitimate, the Tudors would not have hidden the fact – they would have
shouted it from the rooftops as another justification for their usurpation of his throne.

I read through the Act again, but could gain no further illumination about what that passage meant. I sat looking out at the Minster, its beautiful windows alight with colour now for the sun was
sinking. Had I really been here all day?

I replaced the book then stepped out, closed the door and went back to Madge. She was in the solar, feeding the greyfalcon with a plate of chopped meat.

‘I am sorry to have been so long. The time ran away with me.’

She put down the tray and wiped her hands on her apron.

‘Thank you, Madge, for your hospitality.’

‘Maister still sleeps. Sir,’ she added suddenly, ‘if he goes to London, you – you will take care of him?’

‘As though he were my own father.’

‘How is he, maister? That physician won’t say, thinks I’m just a poor silly servant.’

‘Not well.’

She nodded. ‘Ay, Maister says he will never get better. I shall miss him, he has been good to me, as his wife was before him, Jesu rest her.’ She crossed herself. ‘He is a good
man, for all the bad feeling there was when he quarrelled with his wife’s family. And now he seeks to make matters right, by finding young Martin.’

‘I will help him there.’

‘It was but a quarrel over politics. Maister was wrong to cut Martin off. I think he knows that.’

‘Is that what it was about?’

She bit her lip. ‘You did not know? I thought he had told you.’

‘I won’t say anything, Madge. And with God’s aid I will deliver him safe back to you.’

She nodded, her eyes full of tears but too proud to cry before me. She let me out and I walked away.

O
UTSIDE, THE RAIN
had stopped, but there was a cold and biting wind. I remembered the night Master Wrenne had quoted from Thomas More’s writing
about the Striving between the Roses. ‘These matters be Kings’ games, as it were stage plays, and for the most part played upon scaffolds.’ I shivered again and began walking back
to St Mary’s, keeping to the centre of the streets, on the lookout for shadows in doorways, a hand on the hilt of the dagger beneath my coat. It would be like this, I thought, from now
on.

St Mary’s was quiet. I passed by the looming bulk of the church and made my way to the lodging house. I paused at the door, for I could hear merry voices within. I must face the law clerks
again. I pushed the door open. A group of them sat before the fire playing cards, the central hall hot and fuggy with smoke. All turned to look at me, their faces full of curiosity, except for
Master Cowfold, whose head Barak had threatened to smash against the wall, who looked hastily away.

‘Good evening,’ I said. ‘Is Master Barak about?’

‘He’s out, sir,’ young Kimber said.

‘With a pretty wench,’ another added, and several laughed. I nodded and went to my cubicle. I felt their eyes on my back until, with relief, I closed the door behind me, locked it
and lay down on my bed.

After a while I heard the clerks leave the lodging house, making their way over to the refectory for dinner. I was hungry again but could not face all those staring eyes, and I confess I was
nervous at the thought of walking to the dining hall alone. I closed my eyes, and at once fell asleep.

When I woke it was very late; the clerks had come back and gone to bed for I could hear their snores and mumbles. I went outside to the hall. The fire was low but still burning.

I decided to take a little walk outside to clear my head. No one would be about at this hour. I opened the door carefully, for it had a creak and I did not want to wake anyone. I stepped out.
The clouds had passed and a moon had risen. I looked round carefully, eye out for anyone hidden in doorways, then walked round the corner of the building, where an arch led through to a path to the
river.

I jumped, and my hand went to my dagger, as I heard a sound. There was a figure, two figures, crouching by the arch. ‘Who’s there!’ I called out.

Barak and Tamasin stepped out of the arch, hand in hand. I laughed with relief, thinking I had caught them kissing against the wall. Then I saw their faces. Tamasin’s eyes were wide with
terror, and Barak’s face was stiff with shock.

‘What’s the matter? What in God’s name has happened?’

‘Quiet, for Jesu’s sake.’ Barak grabbed my arm and pulled me into the shadow of the arch. ‘We mustn’t be seen!’ he hissed.

‘But why? What—’

He took a deep breath. ‘Tamasin and I have been out,’ he whispered. ‘Tamasin shouldn’t be out so late.’

‘That’s not so serious. Who —’

‘We saw something, sir,’ Tamasin said. ‘Something we weren’t meant to.’

‘I know now what Oldroyd’s words meant,’ Barak breathed. ‘“No child of Henry and Catherine Howard can ever be true heir,
she knows
.” Oldroyd knew, Jesu
knows how but he knew.’

‘Knew what? Listen, I found something at Wrenne’s house today. A copy of that Act of Parliament —’

‘Forget that!’ Barak shook his head, his eyes wide with impatience. ‘What Oldroyd knew was nothing to do with old papers. It’s here and now. And we are all three of us
deeper in the shit than we could have thought possible.’

I
STARED AT THE TWO
of them, dumbfounded. Barak leaned his head out, eyes raking the darkness in front of the lodging
house.

‘Anyone there?’ Tamasin whispered.

‘No. Jesu knows where
he’s
gone!’

‘Who?’ I demanded.

Barak turned to me. ‘Listen, we must find somewhere we can talk.’

‘The refectory is open round the clock,’ Tamasin said. ‘So the soldiers may take their breaks there.’

‘The soldiery?’ Barak said dubiously.

‘Yes, but it will be almost empty. We could find a quiet table.’

‘What time is it?’ I asked, realizing I had no idea.

‘Near two.’ Barak nodded at Tamasin. ‘All right, let us go there.’

‘What in God’s name is this about?’ I asked, almost as rattled as they were by now.

Tamasin looked at me. ‘If we tell him he’s in danger too.’

‘He’s in danger already. Come on.’ Barak stepped out and began walking rapidly to the refectory. We followed.

The door was open, the big dining hall lit dimly by candles on the tables. The place was empty apart from a group of soldiers drinking quietly at a table near the door. The men had cast off
their breastplates and plumed helmets and sat slumped heavily over their drinks, tired after standing long hours at their posts. Barak led the way to a table in the farthest corner of the room.
‘We’d best buy some ale.’ He walked off to where a bored-looking servant sat at a table next to a large barrel. Tamasin and I sat down. She bent her head and put a hand to her
brow, messing her long blonde hair. Her hand, I saw, was trembling slightly. Something had shaken the girl to the core.

Barak reappeared, set three mugs down on the table and sat next to Tamasin. His place gave him a good view of the door. He leaned forward, took a deep breath, then began speaking quietly.

‘You know we went out hawking today, while the bear-baiting was on. Me and Tamasin and a party of the law clerks.’

‘Ay.’

Tamasin shook her head. ‘What a carefree day it was. I cannot believe it now.’

‘We had good hunting, then went to a village when it started raining hard. We did not get back till nightfall. We went to the lodging house, but you were fast asleep and we didn’t
want to wake you. We had something to eat here. Then we went—’

‘Jack.’ Tamasin looked at me and reddened.

‘He has to know the whole story, Tammy. One of the clerks has a key to a room in the monastery complex, an office with a fire. We went —’

‘All right,’ I said. ‘I can guess the rest. But what happened to scare you so?’

‘We left the room an hour ago. Tamasin should have been back at King’s Manor long before, she sleeps in the servants’ quarters. We wondered how she would get back in, for the
doors are guarded and we thought the soldiers would make a jest of us. Then we saw a door with no one outside. By the kitchen on the Queen’s side. We went down the side of the manor to see if
it was unlocked. That was where we saw them.’

‘Who?’

Barak looked around the refectory, then at Tamasin. It seemed he could hardly bring himself to speak. Then he said, ‘Remember that popinjay Thomas Culpeper, that was at the cockfighting
yesterday with Dereham?’

‘Ay. You said he was one of the King’s bodyservants.’

‘Bodyservant. He’s that all right.’ Barak gave a bark of nervous laughter. ‘He was standing just inside the doorway. Taking his leave of the Queen.’

‘The
Queen
?’

‘Queen Catherine herself. I didn’t recognize her, but Tammy knows her well enough by sight.’

Tamasin nodded. ‘It was her, sir. And Lady Rochford standing beside her.’

I stared at them in horror. ‘Do you realize what you are saying?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Barak gave that hoarse croak of a laugh again. ‘I’m saying the Queen was showing the most notorious rake at court out of her privy chamber at past one in the
morning.’

‘Jesu.’ I remembered that first morning at King’s Manor, Lady Rochford pestering Craike about doors and locks in case the Queen needed to escape a fire.

‘You haven’t heard the worst,’ Tamasin said heavily. ‘They saw us.’