Sovereign Page 12

  ‘He was keen to leave,’ Barak observed.

  I watched his big form disappearing in the rain. ‘Yes. I suspect he’s a sympathizer with the old religion – he and Oldroyd probably shared opinions together. I hope that’s all.’ We resumed our way, passing the door we had gone through that morning.

  ‘He couldn’t have had anything to do with Oldroyd’s death,’ Barak said. ‘He was with us when we heard that door creak open in the church.’

  ‘True. But he was abroad very early, he came up to me right after that horse charged into the courtyard. There could have been more than one person involved. You’ve seen how secure this place is, Barak. Whoever killed the glazier was already at St Mary’s. It was a resident.’

  ‘But there are hundreds here.’

  ‘There are.’

  We walked on to our lodgings. The cattle and sheep stood dripping in their pens; the fowls were huddled up against the walls, seeking some protection from the rain. Inside the building a group of clerks was standing talking round the fire, which was blazing merrily, and passing round a big leather pouch of wine. The young lawyer we had met earlier, Master Kimber, stood a little apart from them, warming his hands.

  ‘Good evening, sir,’ he greeted us. ‘You have been caught in the rain?’

  ‘Ay, we have been in the city. And you fellows, have you finished work?’

  ‘Yes, sir. The clerks here and I have been sorting through the bills for all the food that has been bought.’ He pointed to a young man. ‘Master Barrow here made an entry for fifty pigs where he should have put five hundred this afternoon. The cofferer threatens to send him back to London. Have you any need of a clerk for your counting house?’

  Master Barrow scowled at him. I laughed. ‘No, thank you.’

  ‘Someone was asking for you a little while ago.’ Kimber turned and called out, ‘Hey, Tom Cowfold, are you there?’ A round-faced man, young but already balding, put his head out of a nearby cubicle. ‘Here is Master Shardlake,’ Kimber said importantly.

  ‘Ah, yes, sir.’ The clerk approached us. ‘ ’Tis about the rehearsal tomorrow, for the presentation to the King —’

  ‘Come to my room,’ I said, aware the clerks were listening with interest. I led him into my cubicle, Barak following.

  ‘Now, sir.’ Master Cowfold looked at me self-importantly. ‘You are asked to come to my master’s office at nine, for the rehearsal for the presentation. Sir James Fealty, of the steward’s office. Master Wrenne is to be there too, with the petitions. My master will take you through the manner in which they are to be offered to the King.’

  ‘Who is actually to make the presentation?’

  ‘Master Wrenne.’ I was relieved to hear that. ‘Er, and you should be in the clothes you will wear at the presentation.’ The clerk was looking at my ill-fitting, voluminous coat.

  ‘Very well.’

  ‘Until tomorrow then, sir.’ He bowed and left.

  ‘Let’s change,’ I said to Barak, ‘and get some supper. That Mistress Reedbourne said she’d meet you at the hall at six, it’s near that now.’

  ‘All right. I’ll go and ask those lads where it is.’ He stepped outside. A moment later I heard Cowfold greet him. ‘Here’s the crookback lawyer’s clerk.’

  My heart lurched with anger; the churl might have lowered his voice.

  ‘Shut up, you arsehole,’ I heard Barak say quickly. There was a moment’s silence, then the conversation continued more soberly. I changed my wet hose, took a deep breath and stepped out, self-conscious now in Wrenne’s big coat. I wished God had not made the old man so tall. The clerks had dispersed, and Barak was standing alone by the fire. He gave me an uneasy look; he knew that overheard insults did not improve my temper.

  ‘Where is the dining hall, then?’ I asked curtly.

  ‘The clerks say it is set up in the old monks’ refectory. Everyone’s together apart from the high officials at the abbot’s house.’

  ‘Come on, then.’

  OUTSIDE A NUMBER OF people were heading for the long row of claustral buildings running alongside the church. A large door stood open. We followed a group of carpenters, covered in wet sawdust, towards it. Standing in the archway, in the expensive-looking yellow dress we had first seen her in and a blue French hood that set off her eyes, was Tamasin. To my surprise Jennet Marlin stood beside her, wearing the slight frown that seemed to be her habitual look. Tamasin greeted us with a curtsy, though Mistress Marlin merely nodded coldly. Tamasin passed us two strips of paper. Mine had my name and the words ‘Lawyer for the King’s petitions’, stamped by the Chamberlain’s office.

  ‘Thank you, Mistress Reedbourne,’ Barak said. ‘You’ve saved us a wait in a draughty tent.’

  ‘Yes. Thank you,’ I added. I disapproved of the girl’s forwardness, but she had gone to trouble for us. I determined to make myself pleasant, though I did not feel much like it. ‘We are hungry,’ I said. ‘You must be, too. No doubt the Queen’s servants have their own dining place.’

  ‘Oh no, sir,’ Tamasin said. ‘We have to eat in the common hall too.’

  ‘With the rabble,’ Mistress Marlin added in her sharp voice. ‘Thank the Lord the Queen’s dining quarters will be set up tomorrow, we can eat in peace.’ She gave Barak a sour look. ‘Tonight I thought I would accompany Tamasin, she should not be dining alone.’

  I could think of nothing to say to that, so I bowed for the women to precede us inside. We mounted a wide staircase, the cornices ornamented with beautifully carved angels. Waiters were running up and down the stairs bearing trays and leather pitchers of wine. We entered the monks’ old refectory. Rows of trestle tables were set out, packed together so closely there was scarcely enough room for the waiters to pass. I estimated there were places for two hundred people. Most seats were occupied by tired-looking workmen and carpenters. I saw the clerks sitting together in a little group some distance off. At the next table a little group of women sat together. One of them looked at Mistress Marlin, then nudged her fellows. They looked at her and giggled. Jennet Marlin’s face reddened. I felt for her.

  A man in the black robe of an usher bustled over to us. We handed him our dockets and he led us to a table with four vacant spaces. I was glad it was some distance away from those clerks. Mistress Marlin wrinkled her nose as we sat down, for the tablecloth and napkins were stained. A waiter dumped down a flagon of ale and hurried off. I poured for the others.

  ‘At least the bowls and cups at this table are pewter,’ Mistress Marlin said. Glancing round, I saw the carpenters were drinking from wooden cups.

  ‘So some of the proprieties are being observed,’ I said. Another waiter appeared, bearing a big bowl of pottage. He set it down hurriedly, spilling a little on the cloth. Mistress Marlin sighed, but Tamasin laughed, passing the bowl down to her.

  ‘We must bear with it, mistress,’ she said, and to my surprise Jennet Marlin gave her a quick, affectionate smile.

  ‘How came you to be in the Queen’s service?’ Barak asked Tamasin when we were all served.

  ‘My mother served in the royal kitchens before me. I have been there two years, working for the Queen’s confectioner. They asked me to accompany the Progress for my experience with sweetmeats,’ she added proudly. ‘I was sent ahead with Lady Rochford and Mistress Marlin to help prepare for the Queen and her household, and ensure she may have the pretty comfits she likes so much. Expensive doucets of marzipan and almonds and ginger.’

  I turned to Jennet Marlin. ‘And you, mistress, have you served Lady Rochford long?’

  She gave me her haughty look. ‘No, sir. I served Lady Edgecombe when the Lady Anne of Cleves was Queen. I moved to Lady Rochford’s service last summer.’

  ‘And you are from the north?’

  ‘Originally I come from Ripon. But I was sent to court at sixteen.’

  ‘And you have come all the way with the Progress?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said with a sigh. ‘Through cold and rain in July, everything more filthy tha
n you could believe. It was so wet all the roads turned to mud. The household officials said we should return but the King and his councillors insisted the Progress must go on.’

  I nodded. ‘Because its political importance is so great.’

  ‘Yes. Then after the weather improved the King delayed at Hatfield and Pontefract, none knew why. Then we were sent to York while the King diverted to Hull. We have been here near a week.’

  ‘How long is the King to stay in York?’

  ‘They say three days, but always there seem to be delays.’

  ‘It must be frustrating.’ I hesitated. ‘Do you know what the great celebration is to be, that they are all preparing for?’

  She shrugged her shoulders. ‘No. There are all sorts of rumours.’ She changed the subject. ‘You are a barrister, sir?’

  ‘I am. At Lincoln’s Inn.’

  ‘My fiancé is a barrister at Gray’s Inn.’

  The same as Wrenne’s nephew, I thought.

  ‘You will doubtless have been told,’ she continued, ‘he is in the Tower on suspicion of involvement in the conspiracy. It is a subject of great gossip.’

  ‘I had heard,’ I replied uncomfortably.

  ‘You may have met him. Bernard Locke.’ Her full mouth, which she seemed to hold perpetually in a tight line, softened a little.

  ‘No. I’m afraid not,’ I said. It was the second time today I had been asked if I knew a Gray’s Inn barrister.

  ‘He is from Ripon too, we have known each other since we were children.’ She looked at me with sudden intensity. ‘His arrest was a terrible mistake. He will be freed. Many have been arrested who were guilty of nothing. They had to cast the net wide, but they will realize Bernard is innocent and release him.’

  ‘Let us hope so, mistress.’ I was surprised at her discussing the matter so freely. I hoped she was right; but I knew that those suspected of political offences could languish in the Tower for years.

  ‘I will never abandon hope,’ she said with fierceness.

  ‘Your loyalty does you credit, madam.’

  At that she gave me one of her contemptuous looks. ‘I owe him all.’

  A waiter came up, laying a big mutton pie on the table. Barak cut it for us; as Jennet Marlin reached to take her share, I saw the hand holding her knife was trembling slightly. Despite her rudeness I could not help feeling sorry for her. If she wore her heart on her sleeve like this all the time, I could imagine the other women in the household mocking her; women can be crueller even than men.

  ‘I heard the Queen has been ill on the journey north,’ I said. ‘I hope she is better now.’

  Again she gave that mirthless smile. ‘She had a summer cold, that was all. She made much of it, as young girls will.’

  ‘I am glad it is nothing worse.’

  ‘She got my mistress Lady Rochford fussing over her, calling her poor baby and bringing her cushions.’ She spoke with distaste. I remembered how rudely Lady Rochford had addressed her the day before. It struck me Jennet Marlin was a very angry woman. She reminded me of someone, though I could not remember whom it was.

  ‘There are rumours the Queen is pregnant,’ I said.

  She stared at me coldly. ‘I know nothing of that. You fish for gossip, sir.’

  ‘I am sorry,’ I said stiffly. Mistress Marlin bent her head to her plate. Evidently she had had enough of conversation with me.

  Around us the talk grew louder as the wine loosened tongues. Barak was telling Tamasin an edited tale of how he came to be my assistant. ‘Before last year I worked for Lord Cromwell. Master Shardlake also had his patronage, and when my master fell he took me on as clerk.’

  ‘You worked for Lord Cromwell,’ she said, her eyes wide. ‘Did you know him?’

  ‘Ay.’ Barak looked sad for a moment.

  ‘Tell me how you came to be locked in the monks’ chapterhouse,’ she said with a smile. ‘I am sure it was not mere foolishness.’

  ‘It was,’ Barak said. He smiled wryly. ‘I am but a wantwit, a foolish jester.’

  She laughed. ‘I think you are a man of many parts.’

  ‘Many parts I have.’ They both laughed. Mistress Marlin gave Tamasin a severe look. I thought again, who is it she reminds me of? I worried at the matter while next to me Barak and Tamasin’s conversation grew more flirtatious. At length, Mistress Marlin stood up.

  ‘Tamasin, we should leave now. Lady Rochford will be finished her meal now, she may wish some task of me. And you should not walk back alone.’

  ‘We can accompany you back to the abbot’s house, madam,’ I offered.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said quickly, ‘but no. Come, Tamasin.’ Barak and I stood and bowed as the ladies left, Tamasin drawing one or two admiring glances along the tables. We sat down again.

  ‘You two got on well,’ I said to Barak.

  ‘Ay, she’s a fine girl. She says the day after tomorrow some of the townsfolk are rehearsing a musical display to be put on before the King when he arrives. I asked her to accompany me there. If that is all right,’ he added.

  ‘So long as some new demand on us does not arise.’ I looked at him. ‘Are most of the women you dally with so forward?’ I meant the words in jest, but they came out sharp. He shrugged.

  ‘Perhaps she is forward. But in these strange circumstances for all of us, why should we not snatch a little pleasure where we can?’ There was a slight truculence in his tone. ‘Do you disapprove of her?’

  ‘I think she has something scheming about her, for all her merry airs.’ I wondered whether to tell him I believed there was something odd about the incident the day before, but held my tongue.

  ‘Mistress Marlin is a strange woman,’ he said. ‘How old is she, I wonder?’

  ‘About thirty. Same age as you.’

  ‘She might be attractive if she did not always look as though she were sucking on a bad tooth.’

  ‘Yes. Her fiancé is in the Tower. She said she had known him since childhood.’

  ‘A long engagement, if she’s thirty.’

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  He smiled. ‘I can ask Mistress Tamasin about it tomorrow, if you like.’

  ‘I confess she piques my curiosity. I have a feeling she dislikes me, I wish I knew why.’

  ‘I think she dislikes everybody.’

  ‘Perhaps. But now we are done, I have been waiting for a chance to speak with you about this morning. What you said in the chapterhouse, that you’d never have made a mistake like that when you worked for Cromwell. Is that what has been on your mind these last weeks?’

  He hesitated, then said quietly. ‘These days I feel neither fish nor fowl.’ I nodded, encouraging him to continue. He reddened. ‘When I first came to work for you it was something new, it was interesting. But now I realize . . .’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘I am too rough and crude ever to fit in with the world of the courts. You do not know how many times I have sat taking notes in court, or greeted other barristers in your chambers, and have wanted to call them all pompous arseholes and tweak their noses.’

  ‘That is mere childishness.’

  ‘No, it is not. You know what my life was before I met you. A rough life among rough people, Lord Cromwell prized me for my contacts among such folk. But now he is gone, if I were to leave the law without a trade, I should soon sink to being a man of the streets, end up where I was as a child.’ He sighed and rubbed his hand across his forehead.

  ‘The law may be a dull life sometimes. But, Jack, look ahead ten years. Would you rather be a trickster on the streets then, your joints stiffer each winter, or secure in your post at Lincoln’s Inn?’

  He looked me in the eye. ‘I am torn. Part of me wants to stay, settle down, yet part of me enjoyed the excitement this morning.’

  ‘I saw.’ I took a deep breath. ‘I would be sorrier than I can say to lose you. You have brightened up life in chambers no end. But it is your life, you must decide.’

  He smiled sadly. ‘I have been an un
ruly clerk these last weeks, have I not?’

  ‘That you have.’

  ‘I am sorry.’ He bit his lip. ‘I will decide, one way or the other, before we return to London. I promise.’

  ‘If you want to talk more with me, I shall be ready.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  I drew a deep breath. ‘One more thing,’ I said. ‘I have decided. I think we should get up very early tomorrow, visit the glazier’s house again before this rehearsal of the presentation to King. I am worried Maleverer will say we should have sent a messenger after him. I want to go and check whether the searchers found anything in that room. If there are signs they did, there is less to worry about.’

  ‘And if they did not?’

  ‘Then we shall have to look ourselves.’ I spoke with trepidation. Barak’s eyes, though, had lit up at the prospect.

  Chapter Ten

  BY THE TIME WE left the refectory the rain had stopped. It was dark now, but in the courtyard the men laboured on. Three enormous tents now stood beside the pavilions, and men were taking furniture inside – ornate chairs, big carved wooden buffets and boxes that probably contained gold plate, for soldiers accompanied them. And all of this, I thought, must have been carried from London.

  Back in our lodgings the clerks had brought a small trestle table up to the fire and sat playing cards. Kimber and a couple of other young men in lawyers’ robes were with them and I reflected on the odd, temporary egalitarianism the Progress seemed to have brought to its employees. Kimber asked if we would join them and I told Barak to do so if he wished, but I would go to my cubicle. The words ‘crookback lawyer’s clerk’ still rankled. A little to my disappointment, he said he would. I left him and went to repair my robe as best I could with my little sewing kit, then lay down on my bed.

  It was too early to sleep, though, and as I lay there listening to the whoops and groans from the card players as their fortunes changed, I found myself prey to a succession of worrying thoughts. I thought about Maleverer’s sudden dash to visit the Privy Council, and my failure to tell him there might be something concealed at Oldroyd’s house. My decision to go there early on the morrow had been an impulsive one, but on reflection it was the safest thing to do to avoid possible trouble. If there was a hiding place in the wall and it had been discovered, nothing was lost, but if it had not and I discovered it, that could only be to my credit. I did not hide from myself that Maleverer frightened me; he was a man as ruthless and brutal as my old master Cromwell had been, yet without his sophistication, and without, I guessed, any principles beyond ambition and a naked love of exercising power. A brute and a bully, a dangerous man.