C. Sansom - Lamentation

‘Of course.’ I looked at the old man; in his note he had said he had been ill, and indeed he looked frail, leaning hard on his stick. He nodded to his men and one helped me dismount while the other took Genesis’s reins. Blower looked at Lord Parr with surprise, not knowing that I had acquaintance with such a senior figure. He bowed to Lord Parr and rode off, looking more put out than ever.

Lord Parr led me away a little, to stand beside the river. ‘You had my letter?’

‘I did. I have spoken to my steward Brocket and he stands ready, though very reluctantly.’

‘I am still trying to discover who put that item on the council agenda. But I make no progress, and Paget is as close-mouthed as any man can be.’

‘He was fair at the council,’ I observed. ‘He seemed genuinely concerned to find the truth or otherwise of the allegations.’

‘Ay, perhaps.’ Lord Parr sighed deeply. ‘I am getting too tired for all this. After the admiral leaves next week the King and Queen are going on a short Progress to Guildford, so I must move these old bones yet again.’ He looked out over the river for a moment, then spoke quietly. ‘The King is taking none of the traditionalist councillors with him, not Gardiner, nor Wriothesley, nor Norfolk. Lord Hertford and Lord Lisle, though, will be accompanying him.’ He looked at me, a keenness now in his bloodshot eyes. ‘The tide is shifting fast in our favour. The King has not seen Bertano again; he is cooling his heels somewhere in London. Rumours are beginning to spread of a papal emissary here. And if I can prove that Rich has been playing some double game, perhaps seeking to damage the Queen through you, it will anger the King, and help the Queen. And the Parr family,’ he added. ‘But before I do anything with that man Stice, I must know more. No sign of those others, I take it, the men who killed Greening?’

‘Daniels and Cardmaker? No, the printer Okedene saw them about the town, but I have not.’

‘Who did they take the Queen’s book for? Not Rich, I am sure, he would have used the Lamentation at once.’

‘Could its release still harm the Queen?’

‘I think so.’ He paused, then made a fist with his bony hand. He shook his head. ‘It is her hiding the book from him that would anger him most, I know.’

‘The disloyalty, rather than the Lamentation ’s theology?’

‘Exactly. Though her stress on salvation by faith alone would hardly help. And the King’s illness makes him all the more unpredictable. One never knows how he may turn, or in what direction.’ For a second Lord Parr seemed to sway, and I put out a hand. But he righted himself, taking a deep breath. ‘Give me a few days, Master Shardlake, to try and worm out some more information. And I will have a watch set on that house where Stice meets your steward.’ He turned, and we walked back to our horses.

‘I will contact you soon,’ Lord Parr said after we had mounted. ‘Keep that steward safe. Is he well frightened?’

‘I think so.’

‘Good.’ As I turned away he said, ‘I almost forgot. The Queen sends you her best wishes.’

I rode slowly back to the city. I had not gone far, though, when another horseman pulled up beside me. To my surprise I saw it was young William Cecil, his face serious as usual.

‘Brother Cecil. I had not thought to see you again so soon.’ I allowed a note of reproach to enter my voice. He had been of great help earlier, but now Lord Parr must feel his absence greatly.

‘Brother Shardlake.’ His thin lips set slightly at my tone.

‘How goes your service with Lord Hertford?’

‘Well, thank you.’ He hesitated. ‘His secretary retires soon, it is possible I will take his place.’

I inclined my head. ‘You made a good move, then.’

He pulled his horse to a halt, and I, too, stopped. The young lawyer looked at me squarely, fixing me with those large, keen blue eyes. ‘Brother Shardlake, I was sorry to leave the Queen’s service. But an offer of serious advancement came and I had to take it.’

‘As men do.’

‘Also, I confess, after that turmoil on the wharf, I did some serious thinking. About what I am — and am not — capable of. I am not a fighting man, and I have a young family to consider. My talents, such as they are, are best put to use behind a desk. Where,’ he added, ‘I can serve the cause of reform. Believe me, I am sincere in that, as in my continued love and respect for the Queen.’

I dared to say, ‘But your first loyalty now is to the Seymours, not the Parrs.’

‘Both families serve reform. And I followed you today, Brother Shardlake, to tell you something I thought you should know. Lord Parr’s health is failing. I did not know how ill he was when I left, but my purpose now is to tell you that if your involvement in the Queen’s matters continues — and I know you have appeared before the Privy Council — you must rely on your own judgement as well as his.’ He looked at me earnestly.

‘I saw just now that he was not well,’ I said quietly.

‘And under pressure, with all this — ’ Cecil cast an arm behind him at the disappearing cavalcade. ‘He has much to do at Hampton Court, the Queen is to play a prominent role at the ceremonies there.’

‘I know. I will be attending tomorrow.’

There was no need for him to have ridden up to me to tell me this. ‘Thank you, Brother Cecil,’ I said.

‘If I hear anything that may be of use to you or the Queen, I will tell you.’

‘What do you think has happened to the Queen’s book?’

‘Lord Parr thinks it destroyed,’ Cecil said.

‘Do you?’

‘I do not know. Only that the moment for the conservatives to use it to maximum advantage has passed. The wind is blowing fast in the other direction now. Perhaps whoever took it realized that and destroyed it.’ He shook his head. ‘But likely we shall never know.’

We rode on, talking of the ceremonies and the autumn Progress that was to begin afterwards, apparently going only to Guildford for a couple of weeks because of the King’s health. We parted at the foot of Chancery Lane. ‘This mystery is not yet unravelled,’ I said. ‘If you do hear anything, please inform me.’

‘I will, I swear.’

As I rode down Chancery Lane I thought, yes, you will, but only so long as it serves the Seymours as well as the Parrs.

I returned into my house, aware of the sweat stiffening on my forehead under my coif, and rode round to the stable. Now I would speak to Timothy. But the boy was not there; Martin or Agnes must have set him some task around the house. I dismounted wearily, removed my cap and coif, and went indoors.

Immediately I heard the sound of a woman crying in the kitchen; desperate, racked sobbing. I realized it was Agnes Brocket. Josephine murmured something and I heard Martin say in loud, angry tones, ‘God’s bones, girl, will you leave us alone! Don’t stare at me with those cow eyes, you stupid creature! Get out!’

Josephine stepped into the hall, her cheeks burning. I said quietly, ‘What is happening?’

‘Oh, sir, Master and Mistress Brocket — ’ She broke off as Martin stepped out, having heard my voice. His square face was angry. But he pulled himself together and asked quietly, ‘May I speak with you, sir?’

I nodded. ‘Come to the parlour.’

When the door was closed I said, ‘What is it, Martin? You have not told Agnes about your spying?’

‘No! No!’ He shook his head impatiently, then said more quietly, ‘It is our son.’

‘John?’

‘We have had a letter from the gaoler at Leicester. John has another sickness of the lungs, a congestion. They called a doctor and he said he is like to die. Sir, we must go to him. Agnes insists we leave today.’