I noticed a little group of retainers in the red and gold Howard livery standing quietly holding their horses by the gatehouse. Then I saw the Duke of Norfolk himself was by the doorway, his scarlet robe a bright slash of colour against the grey stone. He was talking to another man, who stood in the gatehouse doorway with arms folded in a proprietorial gesture. To my surprise I recognized Sir Richard Rich.
They had already seen me and were staring across at me. The duke raised an arm. ‘Hey, master lawyer! Over here!’
Hell, I thought, what now? I turned Genesis’s head towards the group, praying the horse would continue to behave. I noticed there was a new doorman on the gate, and wondered what had happened to the fat fellow Barak had kicked out of the library. As I pulled up, Rich gave me a cold, angry look, though Norfolk for once looked amiable enough. I guessed Rich had been in the act of welcoming Norfolk to the priory when I turned up and I had a feeling they were not pleased at having been seen together. So febrile was the atmosphere lately that whenever two councillors were seen talking together away from Whitehall, rumours of plots were sparked. And indeed they were an unusual pair to be meeting out here, Cromwell’s protégé and his greatest enemy. I dismounted and bowed to them.
‘Master Shardlake.’ Norfolk’s lined face cracked into a thin smile. ‘Lord Rich, this is a clever lawyer I met at a banquet of Lady Honor’s the other night. Not one of your Augmentations brood, I think.’
‘No, he’s a Lincoln’s Inn deviller, isn’t that so, Brother Shardlake? Though he devils in some strange places - I found him wandering about in my garden a few days ago. You haven’t come to steal my washing, have you?’
I laughed uneasily at the jest. ‘I was passing only, on my way to Bishopsgate. I have a new horse, I wanted to avoid taking him through the City crowds.’
Norfolk turned to Rich. ‘A colleague of Master Shardlake’s was impertinent to me at Lincoln’s Inn a few days ago, read me a lesson on the new religion.’ His cold eyes glittered at me. ‘But you tell me you’re not a Bible puncher, don’t you?’
‘I follow the rules our king has laid down, your grace.’
Norfolk grunted. He turned to Genesis, looking the horse over with a professional eye. ‘That’s an ordinary-looking nag. But you can’t take a horse of spirit to the City. And I suppose you might have difficulty with a hard ride,’ he added brutally, with a glance at my back. He stretched his arms. ‘God’s wounds, Richard, I’ll be glad when parliament rises and I can return to the country. Though you’re another City urchin, aren’t you?’
‘I am a Londoner, your grace,’ Rich said stiffly. He turned to me. ‘The duke has come to discuss the transfer of some monastic lands.’ There was no need to tell me anything at all; he was providing me with an explanation for the meeting in case I spread rumours of conspiracy. What he said might be true: it was well known that Norfolk, for all his religious conservatism, had taken his full share of the monastic spoils.
‘Ay,’ Norfolk said. ‘And you’ve transferred Barty’s to yourself in all but name, eh Richard?’ He laughed. ‘Sir Richard has granted houses round Bartholomew Close to so many of his officials you might as well call this the Smithfield office of the Court of Augmentations. And poor Prior Fuller not yet dead. It’s not true you’re poisoning him, is it, Richard?’
Rich smiled thinly. ‘The prior has a wasting sickness, your grace.’
I guessed the duke’s mockery was intended as further evidence for me that they were not friends. Rich turned aside as a servant appeared at the gate, holding a heavy sack, and murmured something to him. ‘Put them in my study,’ Rich said sharply, ‘I’ll go through them later.’ - Norfolk looked curiously at the sack as the servant went back inside. ‘What’s in there?’
‘We are digging up the monks’ graveyard in the cloister, to make a garden. It seems there is an old custom here that when a man died some personal possession was buried with him. We have found some interesting items.’
I remembered the boys scrabbling in the coffins when I came here to see Kytchyn, the little-golden trinket the watchman had appropriated.
‘Valuable, eh?’
‘Some, yes. Things of antiquarian interest too. Old rings, plague charms, even dried herbs buried with an infirmarian. I have an interest in such things, your grace. My mind does not run on profit all the time,’ he added sharply and I realized that for all his ruthlessness and brutality Rich did not enjoy his reputation for venality.
‘A strange custom.’
‘Yes. I don’t know where it came from. But everyone buried here, whether monk or hospital patient, had something personal buried with him, something that was most characteristic of his life, I believe. We’ll be finished with the monks in a couple of days, then we’ll start on the hospital graveyard. I might have some houses built there.’
I drew a sharp breath as I realized what might have been buried with the old soldier St John. Someone was going to great lengths to conceal all signs of Greek Fire, but what if some was still here at Barty’s, buried under the ground?
I became aware Rich was looking at me. ‘Something piqued your interest, Shardlake?’
‘Just that I too have antiquarian interests, my lord. I found some old stones at the Ludgate, from an ancient synagogue—’
‘We had best get to business, my lord,’ Norfolk interrupted rudely. ‘It’s too hot to be out in the sun all day.’
‘Yes, your grace. Well, good morning, Brother Shardlake.’ He looked at me, the grey eyes narrowing. ‘Don’t devil too far into others’ business; remember, you might get your fingers burned.’ And with that they turned and walked away to the gatehouse. The duke’s retainers looked at me curiously as I turned Genesis round and rode away. I found I was sweating, and not just from the heat. What had Norfolk and Rich met to discuss? Sales of monastic property, or plots against Cromwell? Or Greek Fire? Rich’s warning, mentioning fire, sounded like a reference to that. But was it?
It was with relief that I turned into Long Lane and rode away to Lady Honor’s, my mind running now on opened graves.
Chapter Twenty-seven
THE HOUSE OF GLASS lay quiet and still in the morning heat. A servant in the Vaughan livery answered the door. I asked if I might see Lady Honor on an urgent matter of business and he admitted me, asking me to wait in the hall. Looking through a window into the inner courtyard, I saw the banqueting hall was shuttered against the heat. One of the panes had a family motto under the coat of arms. I bent to look closer. Esse quam videri. To be rather than to seem. To be a truly powerful noble family at the heart of the king’s court, as the Howards were and the Vaughans had once been - I wondered what price would Lady Honor pay to achieve that end. In a few hours I would see Cromwell; I had to find out.
The servant reappeared and said Lady Honor would see me. He led me up to a first-floor parlour. Like the rest of the house it was richly decorated, with tapestries on the walls and an abundance of big embroidered cushions on the floors. There was a fine portrait on one wall, an elderly man in Mercers’ Company livery. The face above the short white beard had a kindly look despite the formal pose.
Lady Honor sat in a cushioned armchair, dressed in a light blue dress with a square bodice and a square hood, for once free of attendants. She was reading a book that I saw was Tyndale’s Obedience of a Christian Man: the book Anne Boleyn had used to help persuade the king to assume the headship of the Church.
Lady Honor stood. ‘Ah, Master Shardlake. You will have read Master Tyndale, no doubt.’
I bowed deeply. ‘Indeed, my lady. In the days when he was frowned upon.’
Although her tone was friendly, Lady Honor’s forehead was drawn in a slight frown even as she smiled. I wondered if she was embarrassed by that sudden kiss two nights before, and afraid I might remind her of it. I felt suddenly conscious of my bent back.
‘How do you like Master Tyndale?’ I asked.
She shrugged. ‘He makes his case well. His interpretation of the biblical passages has so
me force. Have you read the exchanges between Tyndale and Thomas More? Two great book writers descending to vulgar abuse in refuting each other’s views of God.’ She shook her head.
‘Yes. More would have had Tyndale burned had he not been safe abroad.’
‘The Germans burned him in the end. And Tyndale would have burned More if he could. I wonder what God thinks of them all, if he thinks anything.’ An angry weariness entered her tone as she placed the book on the table. ‘But of course God watches us all, does he not?’
Her slight undertone of sarcasm made me wonder for a moment if Lady Honor might be one of those whose heresy was the most dangerous of all, one that people scarcely dared speak of: those who doubted God’s very existence. It was a thought that clawed at the minds of many confronted with the violent religious conflicts of these days; once or twice it had clawed at mine, leaving me feeling as though suspended over a dark chasm.
‘Will you sit down?’ Lady Honor asked, gesturing to some cushions on the floor. I lowered myself to them gratefully. ‘Some wine?’
‘Thank you, no, it is rather early.’
She watched as I unhitched my satchel. ‘Well,’ she said softly, ‘what have you brought for me today?’
I hesitated. ‘The papers about Greek Fire, my lady. I know nobody else who has seen them, you see. I would welcome your opinion on one or two matters—’
Anger flashed in her eyes, though her tone remained even. ‘So you would find out how much I read, how much I understood. I told you two nights ago, enough to make me wish I had kept my curiosity under control and no more.’
‘Enough to make you think Greek Fire might be real?’
‘Enough to make me fear it might be, given what it could do. Master Shardlake, I have nothing to add. I told you the simple truth.’
I studied her carefully. Two nights ago she had tried to charm me into believing her, today she was hostile and angry at my questions. Was that because she had truly told me all?
‘Lady Honor,’ I said, choosing my words carefully, ‘I have to make a report to Lord Cromwell this afternoon. I have not got as far as I would like in my enquiries, not least because the founder who aided the Gristwoods in their work has disappeared and has probably been killed. Attempts have also been made on my life.’
She took a deep breath. ‘Then all who were involved in the matter are in danger?’
‘Those who helped the Gristwoods in their work.’
‘Am I in danger?’ She tried to keep her composure, but a nerve flickered under her eye.
‘I do not believe so. So long as you have truly told nobody but me that you looked in those papers.’
‘Nobody.’ She took a deep breath. ‘And the earl? If you tell him I looked in those papers, he may seek to try my testimony with rougher methods than yours.’
‘That is partly why I came this morning so I can make the fullest report to him. Lady Honor, the night I came upon you at that bench at Lincoln’s Inn I saw you talking to Serjeant Marchamount. You both looked as though you were discussing something serious.’
‘Are you spying on me, then?’ she asked angrily.
‘I came on you accidentally but yes, I paused and hid to find out what I could hear. I confess it. I caught no words though, I only saw your faces. You both looked worried. As you did when you talked together after the banquet. And the serjeant too had custody of those papers.’
I braced myself for anger, but she only sighed and lowered her head, screening it with an upraised hand. ‘Jesu,’ she said quietly, ‘where have I brought myself with my foolish curiosity?’
‘Only tell me everything,’ I said. ‘I would help you with the earl if I could.’
She looked up then, and smiled sadly. ‘Yes, I believe so, for all that you are sent after me like a hunter. I see it in your face. You do not like this work, do you?’
‘What I like is neither here nor there, Lady Honor. I must ask what you and the serjeant were talking about.’
She got up and went to the buffet, where a fine gold cup was prominent. ‘Gabriel Marchamount gave me this, it is a gift. He advises the Mercers’ Company, you know; he used to advise my husband and now he is gone Gabriel advises me on the many legal matters I have to deal with.’ She took another deep breath. ‘He has been, shall we say, attentive.’
‘Ah.’ I felt myself redden.
‘He has indicated more than once that he would like to take my husband’s place.’
‘I see. He loves you.’
She surprised me with a sudden mocking laugh. ‘Loves me? Master Shardlake, surely you have heard of Gabriel’s attempts to persuade the College of Heralds to provide him with a coat of arms, though his father was a fishmonger? He can bring no proof of noble birth and is not sufficiently elevated to get the king to intervene with them. His attempts have failed. But he wants more than anything to have a son who one day can say he is of noble birth. He lusts after nobility as a pig lusts after truffles. So now he is looking for another way to get it. He would like to marry into a noble family.’
‘I see.’
Her face was red now too, with embarrassment and anger. I felt ashamed.
‘But truly, Master Shardlake, there are some who are not fit to rise above their station and Marchamount is one.’ Her voice trembled. ‘He is an ambitious boor under all his smoothness. I have refused him, but he will not give up his designs. Oh, he is full of plans.’ She lowered her head a moment, then returned her gaze to me, her eyes bright. ‘But I have never mentioned looking at the Greek Fire papers to him. I would not be such a fool. And he has never mentioned them to me.’ The nerve in her face trembled again and she turned to the window, looking across the courtyard to the banqueting hall. I half-rose, then sat down again. I was ashamed of humiliating her, but there remained another question I must ask.
‘I overheard something else at the banquet, Lady Honor. The Duke of Norfolk muttered to Marchamount that there was something he would have you do, but that you would not.’
She did not turn round. ‘The Duke of Norfolk covets land, Master Shardlake. He would be the greatest landowner in the realm. My family still has some left and the duke would have part of it in return for advancing my cousin at court. But I have advised Henry’s father not to give away what little we have left, whatever advance Norfolk might seem to promise. Henry is not cut out for the role of saviour of our family.’
I stared at her rigid back. ‘I am truly sorry to expose these private sorrows,’ I said.
She turned round then and to my relief she was smiling, if ironically, making those engaging dimples at the corners of her mouth that showed her age and yet were somehow charming.
‘Yes, I believe you are. You have done your work well, Master Shardlake. Some charged with the task you have been given might have come here bullying and blustering, and perhaps I would not have told them all I have told you.’ She thought a moment, then crossed to the little table and picked up a bible. ‘Here, take this.’
Puzzled, I rose and took the heavy book. She laid her hand on it, the long fingers pressed flat against the leather cover, and looked me in the face. Close to, I saw she had the lightest of down on her upper lip, making a momentary flash of gold as it caught the light.
‘I swear by Almighty God,’ she said, ‘that I have never discussed the contents of the papers relating to Greek Fire with any living soul other than you.’
‘And the duke has made no request to you to do so?’
She met my eyes firmly. ‘I swear he has not.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Will you tell the earl that I made this oath freely and of my own will?’
‘I will,’ I said.
‘And though you must tell him everything, I ask you to keep these - these difficulties with Gabriel and the duke secret.’
‘I will, my lady. I know the reputation lawyers have as gossips, but I promise to tell no one but the earl.’
She smiled, her old warm smile. ‘Then we may be friends again?’
‘I would li
ke nothing better, my lady.’
‘Good. You caught me in an ill humour earlier.’ She nodded at the gold cup. ‘That arrived, together with an invitation to the bear-baiting tomorrow. Gabriel is making a party of it and I feel obliged to go.’ She paused. ‘Would you care to come as well? He said to bring whoever I chose.’
I inclined my head. ‘Would you really wish me to come? After my interrogation of you?’
‘Yes. To prove there is no ill feeling?’ Her look had something flirtatious in it again.
‘I will come, Lady Honor, with pleasure.’
‘Good. We meet at noon, at Three Cranes—’
Lady Honor broke off as the door opened and her young nephew came in. His face was red and angry. He was dressed for company, a purple slashed doublet and a wide cap with a peacock feather. He took off his cap and threw it on the cabinet.
‘Cousin Honor,’ he said petulantly, ‘please do not send me to such people again.’ He broke off as he saw me sitting on the cushion. ‘I am sorry, sir, I did not mean to intrude.’
Lady Honor took the boy by the arm. ‘Master Shardlake has called for a brief visit, Henry. Now come, settle yourself. Have some wine.
The youth plumped down on a cushion opposite me as Lady Honor fetched him wine. She gestured me to sit again. ‘Henry has been visiting Mayor Hollyes’s family,’ she told me. ‘I thought it would be useful for him to meet his children.’ She gave him a goblet of wine and returned to her chair, smiling at him encouragingly. ‘Well, then, Henry, what has happened?’
‘Those children are common rogues.’ The boy took a long draught of wine. ‘By God they are.’
‘The mayor’s daughters? What on earth do you mean?’
‘I had looked forward to meeting the girls, I heard they were pretty. There are three of them. Mayor Hollyes’s wife was there and the conversation was pleasant enough at first - they asked about life in Lincolnshire, the hunting. But then Madam Hollyes was called away and I was left with the girls. Then they—’