Gregory House - The Cardinal's Angels

Once inside they were made to wait in an antechamber outside the great hall. Ned could see why the place was being rebuilt-it must be too cramped to suit the proclaimed grandeur of the King. The wood panelling however was very attractive, still having that mid-golden sheen with the pale flecks providing the highlights. His uncle would really like to see this. It would give him ideas for the house at St Lawrence Jewry.

While they waited and in Ned’s case slumped against the wall between a pair of Gryne’s Men, there was frenzied flurry of to-ing and fro-ing by clerks who scurried past them eyes fixed on rolls of parchment, all too busy to spare a glance at the latest petitioners. The King may be on a royal progress but the management of the kingdom must continue. At the brief command of a guard liveried in Tudor white and green they were separated from Gryne’s men and escorted through a set of double doors into the great hall. At last!

The guard closed the doors while a further two escorted them the several paces to the centre of the hall. A royal functionary was holding court at the far end. Seated behind a long table he was the centre of the frenzied activity by the assortment of clerks, who continued to whisper quietly and present papers for approval. As they came closer Ned began to tremble. The gentleman that was the focus of attention was well-dressed in fur trimmed robes that emphasised his large shoulders and impressive bulk. It was said that his father had been a blacksmith and that when he was younger he had followed the French armies as they had marched across Italy fighting the Imperials. The official had a strong face that spoke of determination and thoroughness, and Ned knew those features well. And so he should, after all the man was a frequent visitor to his uncle’s house and in most respects could be even considered their ‘good lord’, more so than his true master, the Lord Chancellor.

Thomas Cromwell put down the piece of parchment he was studying and with a brief wave beckoned them forward. “Master Bedwell, I know you. Please do me the honour of introducing your companions.”

His voice was relaxed and even, but firm in its understanding of power. It had been said by some at the Inns of Court that Cromwell was a man to watch. He knew the currents of power like a fish knew the river’s flow, and as secretary to the Lord Chancellor, Cardinal Wolsey, he was close to the most powerful men in the land.

Despite the pain in his shoulder and ribs, Ned bowed low in a manner he hoped showed sufficient and proper deference. The introductions were simple and without embellishment and at each one Cromwell’s eyes flicked to a parchment on the table. Ned thought he saw a sight twitch of recognition when he came to Mistress Black but he may have been mistaken.

“So why do I have three suspects for murder standing before me? And why would you wish to see Lady Anne? An interesting question ehh, Master Bedwell? Do you have an interesting answer for me?”

At the last instant Secretary Cromwell switched his beacon-like stare from the parchment in hand to Ned, who suddenly found his mouth very dry. He desperately tried to recall all he had ever heard regarding the Cardinal’s right hand man, even dredging up the boring anecdotes of his uncle. The man was a brilliant administrator. It was said, but not too loudly, that he was the reason for the Cardinal’s continued high standing, especially by his novel method of disposing of a large number of religious houses, thus acquiring the money needed for Wolsey to build his two colleges. That Cromwell was ruthless and cunning went without saying. He had steadily advanced in rank and power since he joined Wolsey’s service, and so here he was in the royal court, acting on behalf of his master-eyes, ears and cunning calculation.

“Secretary Cromwell, I bring the kind regards of my uncle and I humbly petition on behalf of myself and my companions to hear us out. We carry information of great import to His Majesty concerning treason.” If his uncle knew he was claiming his good name the man would have had a fit and disown his nephew immediately. No matter, Ned was desperate for any clawed advantage.

The dangerous statement of treason created only the smallest tremor of a frown on Secretary Cromwell’s fleshy face, but he did pull one of the clerks closer with a peremptory wave. The man lent in and nodded in obsequious acquiescence. In a minute the great hall was empty except for two guards who stood prominently either side of the door. A further snap of the Secretary’s fingers brought Ned’s wary band closer. “Master Bedwell, the merest whisper of the word treason, and you have my fullest attention.”

It was spoken in a soft voice but it carried well enough for them all to hear. What didn’t need to be said was that if the Secretary’s attention wavered they’d regret it-but not for long.

Ned stepped forward. Well his daemon hinted at last he had a chance to prove his leadership. It was ironic since the whole matter revolved around Smeaton and the Cardinal’s machinations. However it was impossible to summon the dead to speak the truth or otherwise, so amongst the three of them in this company of the Cardinal’s Angels, Ned was the only one who had a chance of keeping Cromwell’s interest. “Master Cromwell I have been falsely accused of the murder of John Smeaton, as have my companions.”

That didn’t even register an acknowledgement. Ned knew that despite the proclaimed requirements of English law for a coroner’s inquiry, in reality this was their trial and so he pushed on. “There was a brawl outside a gaming house in Southwark and the Cardinal’s man called upon me to aid him which for my honour and duty I did. However after I was struck down, another stabbed him, one who was with him in the Gaming house, a man who can be identified by these two Londoners.”

Ned waved for Robert Black to step forward then his sister Meg. Both repeated the tale of the assault and its aftermath. Their judge and jury gave a brief nod and waved them back.

Ned continued with a carefully edited version that removed details of the Cardinal’s gold and substituted ‘a learned gentleman’ for Dr Caerleon. He’d no idea how much Wolsey had shared with his secretary, but somehow he’d an inkling that most of this tale was beyond the usual purview of Cromwell. Ned concluded with a very brief version of their journey and the ambush, carefully editing names until he knew more of their court associations.

Through all this Cromwell just sat there, impassive and omnipotent, flicking his gaze between a couple of sheets of parchment and the accused. Surprisingly the Black siblings stood up well to this ominous intimidation.

“Master Bedwell you have been extremely circumspect in this but I want names. You have so far avoided any and I commend your caution. In the end I want them and your reason for the claim of treason.”

Ned tried not to look at his friends. It was really up to him now to pull it all together. He drew a deep breath and started. “Skelton, a northerner, killed John Smeaton outside the Cardinal’s Cap . He was also at the White Lamb and he was part of the ambush. I have been told that he serves the Duke of Norfolk though I cannot prove that. The other is Don Juan Sebastian, a Spaniard. He claimed to be in the service of Her Majesty Queen Catherine or the Imperial ambassador. I believe he was to meet Smeaton, but once more I have no proof. He did, however, have excellent knowledge of the matter and also was at the White Lamb and a part of the ambush. He offered me a considerable sum to hand over the information we’d found.”

That received the briefest of nods. Ned was sure the names had been noted and if required, Cromwell could come up with a complete profile on each within minutes.