Rory Clements: The Queen's man

‘God’s faith, he looks scarce out of swaddling bands. How old are you, Mr Shakespeare?’

‘Twenty-three, my lord.’

‘You tell me you have not seen battle, yet you must have killed men in the service of your sovereign. How many?’

‘I have killed no man.’

Walsingham tapped the hilt of his dagger on the table. ‘There is more than one way to fight, Robin. And so back to business. Who is this Frenchman stalking our land, John?’

‘The man had but one arm, his left severed at the shoulder.’

‘Leloup. .’

‘Yes, that is the name I was given. François Leloup.’

Walsingham leant forward. His brow darkened. ‘Well, well.’

‘Does the name mean something to you, Sir Francis?’

‘Yes, indeed it does. So the Wolf’s Snout is here, is he?’

‘The Wolf’s Snout?’ Leicester laughed.

‘ Le Museau du Loup . François Leloup has a rather magnificent nose. Long and sharp, like a wolf. Like his name. He is a doctor of medicine, but much more than that, he is as close to the Duke of Guise as I am to my prick. They are indivisible. When not healing the sick, he plots deaths on his master’s behalf. I have always believed he was the go-between connecting Guise to the assassin Maurevert. It was Leloup who paid the blood money and gave the order for Maurevert to shoot Admiral Coligny. And yet Dr Leloup is so discreet that he keeps his own hand clean. I know Leloup of old. Like his master, he is a man of infinite charm.’

‘If you delight in the company of wolves. .’

‘He was there ten years ago on the day of infamy,’ Walsingham continued. ‘August the twenty-third in the year of our Lord fifteen seventy-two. The day the streets of Paris ran red and the cries of dying Protestants outsang the pealing bells. Leloup was at the side of Henri de Guise as they finished off the work begun by Maurevert and killed Admiral Coligny as he lay wounded. And yet I have reason to believe that he also saved Protestant lives when the royal mob ran riot and slaughtered women and children. The Catholics were killing, killing, killing, but Leloup saved my friend Jean d’Arpajon and his family from the sword. He took them to the Hôtel de Guise, where they were safe. I heard this from d’Arpajon’s own lips when he came to England seeking refuge, like so many Huguenots. And so when I have heard tell of the wickedness of Guise and Leloup, I have had pause for thought. Did they save d’Arpajon merely for money — for certainly he paid three thousand livres for his life — or out of pity?’

‘Guise show mercy!’ Leicester almost snorted with derision as he spoke. ‘He was at the very heart of the massacre. It is said his men were painted crimson, their hair tangled with gore, their hands sticky with blood.’

Walsingham spread his hands as though to show they, at least, were free of blood. ‘Guise had cause to kill Coligny. He believed the admiral had assassinated his father. Perhaps, too, he took the opportunity to kill others among his enemies. But I do not believe he murdered the wholly innocent. Did Leloup marshal the wolves? Was he one of them? He is a puzzle to me, as is his master.’

‘But it sounds as if you liked them, Mr Secretary? You liked Leloup. .’ Leicester was aghast.

‘He was amusing. It was hard not to like him. I felt much the same about Guise himself. At that time, before the massacre and years before his leadership of the Catholic League, I did not even believe the duke was a man of particular faith. He was not insane like King Charles, nor wicked like the Medici devil, and yet somehow she shifted the blame for all that happened on to Guise. Catherine de Medici could learn nothing from Machiavelli. .’

‘So who plotted the massacre?’

‘The whole royal council of France. They were all in it, up to their very eyes in gore. But that is all by the by. Blood in the gutters. What we must now divine is where Leloup is and why he is here. Your thoughts, John?’

‘It must involve the Queen of Scots.’

Walsingham looked towards Leicester. ‘You see, my lord, the young apprentice is already thinking like his master.’ He clapped his hands together lightly. ‘Yes, John, this most certainly involves the Scots witch. Guise wishes to secure her liberty and set her on the throne of England. He makes no secret of this. Why else is he building ships at the Normandy harbours if not as an invasion fleet?’

‘So Leloup is here to set her free?’

At his side, Walsingham had a small silver cup. He picked it up and sipped delicately. ‘This is part of a greater plan — to seize the crown of France, too. King Henri is vulnerable. Like a fool, he goes away on retreat just as Guise reaches the height of his power. The people of France love Guise. The Catholics would crown him in an instant. He believes that if he can seize the thrones of England and Scotland, Henri would be powerless to withstand him. This is what the Guise family have desired and conspired towards for many years.’

‘Then we must stop him,’ Leicester said, hammering his right fist into his left palm. ‘But surely Mary is safely guarded.’

Walsingham stroked his dark beard as though trying to lengthen his sombre face. ‘I pray it is so.’

‘Do you have reason to think otherwise?’

‘We have been receiving reports for eighteen months now of Guise’s intentions to secure her freedom. Every week, we hear more reports of greased priests in the region around Sheffield Castle where she is held. And nor can we trust the northern lords who inhabit — infest — those parts. Beware former enemies. Never trust a man whom once you have harmed.’

Never trust a man whom you have harmed . It was a familiar refrain from Walsingham, one of the first things John Shakespeare had learnt from his master when he left his law studies at Gray’s Inn and entered the great man’s service four years since. What Walsingham meant was that though the noble families of the north had been punished and humiliated when their rebellion was quelled in the bloody year of sixty-nine, it would be dangerous to believe them chastened. And while that vicious event now seemed long gone, the northern lords still felt aggrieved and would do anything in their power, seize any opportunity, to take revenge on those who had brought them low.

‘Has the time come to move Mary Stuart south?’ Shakespeare suggested tentatively. ‘Away from such people.’

‘The Queen will not hear of it. She does not wish her cousin any closer to her than is absolutely necessary. But there are other possibilities. We need to prove to Her Majesty that Sheffield has become ill-equipped for the task. I want you to go there, John. Use your judgement carefully. Is Sheffield Castle a fit place to hold this Queen of Scots? Is it well-guarded? If there are holes, find them. Then bring me a full and detailed report.’

Shakespeare bowed. ‘Yes, Sir Francis.’

‘Look for Leloup while you are there. For I believe you are right in suggesting that is his motive for coming to England. And in Sheffield, you will have assistance. You will find one of my seasoned men there. His name is Richard Topcliffe. He is there on another matter, but I would like you to work together.’ Walsingham paused and pressed his fingers together. ‘Dick Topcliffe is a very different man to you, John, so you may not agree with him on every point. However, your opinions will both be of great interest to me. To that end, you will take letters from me ordering him to help you. I merely warn you of this: you will doubtless find Mr Topcliffe to be strong meat, but he has the Queen’s trust, and mine. You do not need to like him, but you will work with him.’

Shakespeare bowed.

‘Return with Mr Topcliffe by way of Tutbury where Mary was held before. It is far enough from the north and a good distance from the court. Sometimes, I wish we had never moved her from there. See what state of repair the castle is in. How soon could it be brought into service again? Mr Topcliffe’s help will be of great value, for he knows Tutbury of old. Do you understand this? And most importantly, set the search for Leloup. Return to Seething Lane this day and have Mr Phelippes send out word to all our intelligencers and agents to find him. He may have headed north, but we must not take that for granted. If he is in London, Tom Phelippes will find him soon enough.’