Gregory House - The Queen's Oranges

“What of the murders and the suspicion of heresy?” Ned asked in as casual a tone as he could manage.

Sir Frederick tried smiling like a doting uncle and lent forward as if imparting a special confidence. It wasn’t a great success. “My boy, it seems we have been deceived by duplicitous foreigners. I have had a warrant issued for a merchant named Albrecht Hagen. A pair of witnesses have come forward swearing that they saw the Hanse leaving the vessel covered in blood the night of the murder.”

Now that was very interesting. It seemed that Belsom was keen to sacrifice his key informer. Had the disappearance of Albrecht ruined his plans? The Hanse merchant may be a treacherous rat but he was a damn sight more efficient than whoever had actually committed the murder. Albrecht wouldn’t have made the mistake of leaving the bodies lying around. Sloppiness was bad for business.

“Sir Belsom, I am very impressed with your honesty and candour. There have been stories around the Inns regarding dread affairs where an official has allowed his personal feelings or errors to sway his judgement, thus continuing to hound and persecute innocent men.”

The pursuivant tried very, very hard to look affronted at such an outrageous suggestion, while at the same time suitably humble and proud of the compliment. He failed horribly with all three and just managed to look bloated.

“Tell me Sir Belsom, does that mean you will release the vessel?” It was a hopeful question.

“Well no, I’m afraid not. My Lord feels it is for the good of the realm to hold this vessel.” The red faced pursuivant lent closer and whispered conspiratorially. “The Lord Chancellor believes that the Hanse was part of a plot against the Kings’ Majesty by foreign princes, and that evidence of the other conspirators is hidden on board this ship!”

That was very inventive, and clever. It always paid to mix a bit of truth in the tale to make it more convincing. Ned was certain that Belsom had knowledge of a plot-intimate knowledge. That it concerned foreigners was also proven, though perhaps not the ones that Sir Thomas More’s pursuivant was trying to implicate. As for Albrecht, he looked even more like a sacrificial pawn. Perhaps he always was. Either way it knocked him out as a witness against Welkin and Belsom at the murder inquest. But where now did Ned and Meg Black fit in? Or the heretical books?Or the other interesting contraband? Was More’s pursuivant playing his game, or that of his master? This shift in tactics was intriguing. The buffoon couldn’t have forgiven his humbling the other day at Ned’s hand. So what ploy or desperation drove this act of false modesty and bonhomie?

“That, Sir Belsom, is evil news, and I hope you are not insinuating that I had a part in any treasonous conspiracy?”

“No Master Bedwell, never! The Lord Chancellor knows of your profound loyalty to His Majesty! He does but beg your indulgence and continued assistance as owed by a loyal subject.”

An accurate translation would be that either Sir Belsom or his lord had already tried leverage in the Royal Court and it had failed. Maybe having Cromwell as patron was proving useful after all, though what of the continuing silence? Still this didn’t answer the question, why was Sir Toad here and still being condescendingly pleasant? Perhaps some dramatic gesture may pry out a grain of truth?

Ned thumped the table and lent forward glaring at his visitor angrily. “I, as any good and loyal subject, will do all that is within my power to bring down traitors! If this ship is involved, then I would burn it to the water line! Aye, and lose all that I have before I would allow it to be used by nefarious foreigners to His Gracious Majesty’s harm!”

It sounded very dramatic and to add flavour Ned leapt up, grabbed the tinder box off the table and made a show of trying to strike a spark. Sir Belsom was smiling indulgently at the impulsive rashness of youth, until Ned got some scrap tinder alight and made a move to set the straw bedding afire.

At this the pursuivant turned very pale, waved frantically and screamed in panic. “No Master Bedwell! No, please restrain yourself! No fire or all will be LOST!” Then Sir Belsom grabbed the leather pitcher and doused the incipient sparks with a slosh of ale, before collapsing back into his seat, his red colour washed pale by terror.

With a show of grumbling acquiescence, Ned slowly sat back down. His daemon however was crowing. The panic confirmed his suspicion of the pursuivant’s involvement in the powder affairs. Sir Belsom puffed and wheezed like a pair of old bellows and mopped his face frantically, before waving Ned closer. “The Lord Chancellor is a kind and noble lord, and as you know, the most learned man in all England.”

Keeping his smile carefully in place, Ned nodded in answer, while throttling his daemon’s automatic response of incredulous denial.

“My noble master would not see any subject suffer grievous loss for his loyalty, so he has sent me to offer compensation for the vessel.”

Ned didn’t have to try very hard to act out his amazement at this. For most of the past week they had tried every trick and subterfuge to seize the ship, and now Belsom was actually trying to buy it? If previously the situation had been bizarre, that was nothing to this latest change.

Ned cautiously cleared his suddenly constricted throat. “Ahh hmm.That…that is a very generous act, from the most noble of His Majesty’s councillors. What…what amount is the Lord Chancellor offering?”

Oh that must be painful Sir Belsom squirmed on his seat as if he’d sat on a hot poker.

“Hmmph, ahh well lad, considering the difficult situation, my lord is prepared to offer five hundred pounds in gold.” Sir Belsom reached down and hauled up a large leather script that’d been resting by his leg. It clinked most attractively as it landed on the table.

Ned didn’t have to feign amazement. His jaw was closer to the floor than at any time during this whole sorry affair. Five hundred pounds! Five hundred pounds was a very significant sum. Ned took a couple of paces to the leather satchel and unbuckled the clasp then tilted it over. Out flowed a golden cascade of coins, ringing sweetly as they tumbled onto the wooden table. Ned had occasionally seen sums like this change hands before, but never so close. He picked up one of the coins and had a close look the face. The image of the King enthroned was crisp and fresh. These hadn’t long been off the minter’s die.

Now he had an interesting problem. Some philosophers would even term it a moral dilemma. More’s pursuivant was here with a five hundred glittering enticements for Ned to hand over a vessel that he only had a probable half share in, for almost the value of a quarter of the contraband. As fractions went it was simple, for the amount offered was close to twice the value of the ship but only half that of the legal cargo. But that was just the first offer, the gloss coating to the bribe so as it would appear as a normal transaction between gentlemen in business. Once the glib phrases and the veneer of reputability were removed, what lay underneath was the rotted canker of modern life. The money was, of course, for the hidden powder and weapons that Ned was not supposed to know about, but it was also masked another dark offer-the Judas fee to surrender Meg Black to the tender discretions of the Lord Chancellor.

Sir Belsom sat there with a very satisfied smile as Ned slowly sifted his fingers through the clinking coins. He knew that if he looked up, the hunger of avarice would be burning in the eyes of his visitor. As with any arrangement in his society, bribes followed a proscribed ritual. First a gift was offered as a mark of respect. It also allowed the parties concerned to weigh up the social rankings of each other as well as the prospective benefits. For instance, a simple introduction to a gentleman of the Privy Chamber by an usher would cost, say, five to twenty pounds, depending on what you wanted put before the Sovereign, while assistance in preferment to a lucrative position from the right person could be in the way of hundreds of pounds in ‘gifts’. As the opening move in the ritual, this gave both parties the space to negotiate without causing offence.