C.J. Sansom - Heartstone

'Nicholas,' Dyrick said, 'Hoyland has been your life—'

'That is over, Vincent.' Hobbey looked at his servant. 'And you, Fulstowe, that we took into our confidence, you used that to build up power over this family. You used us, you felt nothing for any of us. I have known that for a long time. You can go, now. At once.'

Fulstowe looked at him in disbelief. 'You can't dismiss me. Listen, were it not for me—'

'I can,' Hobbey cut in, a touch of the old authority in his voice. 'Get out, now.'

Fulstowe turned to Dyrick. But his confederate in the plan to destroy the village only jerked his head sharply at the door, saying, 'Tell no one about Emma, ever. You are as implicated as your master.'

'After everything I have done for you—' Fulstowe looked at Hobbey and Dyrick again, then walked from the room, slamming the door behind him.

I looked at Dyrick. 'Ettis has to be freed,' I said. 'You and Fulstowe would have let him die to further your schemes.'

'Don't be stupid,' Dyrick snapped back. 'He would never have been found guilty. But with him in prison the villagers would have been more reasonable.'

'Master Shardlake,' Hobbey said, 'I want no charges brought against Emma. If only she could be brought back—'

'I fear she may have gone to Portsmouth to enlist. She may look for my friend George Leacon's company. They saw what a good archer she is.'

'Could you—might you find her?'

I sat back, considering. David and Emma. Both their fates were in my hands now.

Barak said, 'She nearly killed us. Let them both be exposed for what they did.'

I looked at Hobbey. 'I have two more questions. First, am I right that Sir Quintin Priddis knew Hugh was really Emma?'

'Nicholas,' Dyrick expostulated, 'don't answer. We may need Priddis—'

Hobbey ignored him. 'Yes. He knew.'

'From the beginning?'

'No, but he visited this house once, to bargain for his share when I began cutting Emma's woodlands. Sir Quintin is very observant, looking at her he realized the deception. The only one that ever has, save you and Feaveryear. He agreed to keep quiet in return for a larger cut.'

'And his son?'

'I think not. Sir Quintin is a man who even now likes his power, and secrets are power. Other people's, that is; your own are a curse.'

I took a deep breath, then asked, 'And Sir Richard Rich? What is his involvement in all this?'

A look of genuine puzzlement crossed Hobbey's face. 'Rich? The royal counsellor? I have never met him. I saw him for the first time when he came up to you at the Guildhall.'

'Are you sure, Master Hobbey?'

He spread his hands. 'Why would I keep anything back now?'

Dyrick too was staring at me in surprise. I realized neither of them had any idea what I was talking about. But then why had Rich been so agitated in Portsmouth? Why had he, as I increasingly believed, set those corner boys on me in London and killed the clerk Mylling? I thought hard, and then I understood. Again I had jumped to a wrong conclusion.

AND NOW I had to decide what to do. I looked at Hobbey's desperate face, Barak's angry one, then at Dyrick, who had begun to look uneasy and frightened. If it became known he had helped to conceal Emma's true identity there would be serious professional consequences for him. I could never trust Dyrick, but for now he was in my power. I said, 'This is what I am prepared to do. If Ettis is freed I will say nothing about David killing his mother.'

Barak sat up. 'You can't! He murdered her! What else might he do? And you can believe they're not involved with Rich—'

'They're not. They never were. I think I see what happened now. But tell me, Jack, do you think David was of sound mind when he killed Abigail? Do you think his being put on trial and either certified as mad or hanged will do anyone any good? Who will it benefit?'

'He may shoot someone else.'

'That he never will,' Hobbey said. 'He may never even walk properly again. And I told you, from now on I will watch after him day and night—'

I raised a hand. 'I have three conditions, Master Hobbey.'

'Anything—'

'First, you will ensure—I care not how—that Ettis is released. If he has to stand trial for murder in due course, very well, so long as I am there to ensure that justice takes its course and he is found innocent. And I want to let him know now, in confidence, that that will be the outcome.'

Hobbey looked at Dyrick. 'We can arrange that, Vincent, I am sure. Sir Luke—'

Dyrick said, 'What are your other conditions?'

'The second, Master Hobbey, is that you do as you said, sell Hoyland—having confirmed the villagers' title to the woodland—and take David to a place where you can keep him safe and watched.'

'Yes,' he answered at once. 'Yes.'

Barak looked at me and shook his head. And though I doubted David would be a danger to anyone again, I knew I was taking a risk. But I believed Hobbey would do as he promised.

'My last condition concerns Emma. I will ride back to Portsmouth, and if I find her there and trying to join the army I will get her out.'

'No—' Barak started.

'He'd need to expose her as a girl,' Dyrick said. 'Nicholas, if he does that we could be done for after all. If she gets a lift on a supply cart she could be there already.'

'If she has joined my friend's company, or another, I do not need to tell them the whole story. Merely that a patriotic girl is impersonating a boy.'

'I agree,' Hobbey said. 'I agree to everything.'

'But I will not bring Emma back here. I will take her to London. And you, Master Hobbey, will sell Hugh's wardship to me, as wardships are constantly bought and sold. Though, of course, the transaction will only be a paper one, I will give you no money. Master Dyrick here will organize it.'

Even now, after all the death and ruin, Dyrick took the chance to score a point. 'You will make a profit for yourself—'

'I will see the Curteys lands sold for a fair price, and the money kept safe till Emma, as Hugh, comes of age. That will mean continuing the deception, so far as the Court of Wards at least is concerned. But there are a hundred deceptions there, though maybe none so dramatic as this. Again you will have to cooperate, Dyrick.'

'But Emma just tried to kill David, and nearly killed us!' Barak was proving hard to persuade.

'She didn't kill us, though she easily could have. And I don't think she meant to kill David. She could have shot him through the heart as easily as she could us, but she didn't. My guess is she will be desperately regretting what she did. I learned enough of his—her—nature when we were here before to understand that.'

'Him—her—God's nails!' Barak shouted. 'Are you going to take her home? Will you dress her in tunics or frocks?'

'I will help her to find somewhere to live in London. What she makes of her future then will be up to her. This is the one chance I have of fulfilling my promise to the Queen and Mistress Calfhill, whose son died because he felt he had to help her. We owe something to Michael, too.'

Dyrick looked at Hobbey. 'I can negotiate a better deal than that for you.'

'Don't be a fool, Vincent,' Hobbey said dismissively. He reached out a hand to me. 'Again, I agree to it all. Everything. Thank you, Master Shardlake, thank you.'

I could not take his hand. I looked him in the eye. 'I am not doing this for you, Master Hobbey. It is for Emma, and David, to try and bring some future for them out of all this ruination.'

BARAK AND I left the house an hour later. It was early afternoon now, the sun high and hot. We pulled the horses to a halt outside the priory gate.

'You're stark mad,' Barak told me.

'Perhaps I am. But mad or no, it is time for you to go home. No more words now. With hard riding you might make Petersfield tonight. I will try to find Emma, then follow you. If I do not catch up with you tonight, ride on tomorrow and I will meet you on the road.'