C.J. Sansom - Heartstone

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Summer, 1545. England is at war. Henry VIII's invasion of France has gone badly wrong, and a massive French fleet is preparing to sail across the Channel. As the English fleet gathers at Portsmouth, the country raises the largest militia army it has ever seen. The King has debased the currency to pay for the war, and England is in the grip of soaring inflation and economic crisis. Meanwhile Matthew Shardlake is given an intriguing legal case by an old servant of Queen Catherine Parr. Asked to investigate claims of 'monstrous wrongs' committed against a young ward of the court, which have already involved one mysterious death, Shardlake and his assistant Barak journey to Portsmouth. Once arrived, Shardlake and Barak find themselves in a city preparing to become a war zone; and Shardlake takes the opportunity to also investigate the mysterious past of Ellen Fettipace, a young woman incarcerated in the Bedlam. The emerging mysteries around the young ward, and the events that destroyed Ellen's family nineteen years before, involve Shardlake in reunions both with an old friend and an old enemy close to the throne. Events will converge on board one of the King's great warships, primed for battle in Portsmouth harbour: the Mary Rose...

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'Just now he told me that Mistress Calfhill was for many years the servant of Lady Latimer, as she then was.'

'Even the servant of a Queen may seek justice, I think.'

'This is not justice. It is pestering, persecution.'

'Everyone in Hampshire will get a fair hearing.'

'Sir William told me that while the Queen may press for an investigation she cannot determine the outcome. The help she can give you stops here.' His voice rasped like a file.

I met his angry stare. 'We should consider the practicalities of our journey,' I said.

'I want to leave as soon as we can. The sooner we start, the sooner we return. And it will take more than three or four days to get there. The roads will be muddy after the storms, and there will be soldiers and supply carts on the roads south.'

I caught Barak's eye. 'I agree. What about the day after tomorrow?'

Dyrick looked surprised by my ready agreement. I continued, 'I suggest we take a boat as far as Kingston, that would be the quickest way, then hire strong riding horses so we can make the journey as fast as possible.'

'Very well. I will send Feaveryear down today to hire the horses.' He turned to the clerk. 'Can you do that?'

'Yes, sir.'

'That sounds sensible,' I said. 'But horses will be difficult to hire just now. There will be much demand for them.'

'Then we must pay above the normal rate.'

I hesitated. If we found nothing all those costs would be paid by Bess. Or, rather, by the Queen. But my horse Genesis was only used to short rides and this would be a long one. I had ridden him to York four years before, but that was by slow stages and he was younger then. I nodded agreement.

'Will you bring a bodyservant as well as your clerk?' Dyrick asked.

'Probably.' I was thinking about the man Warner had promised me.

'I will not. Feaveryear can do my fetching and carrying. We should travel as light as we can to make speed. I must send a letter by a fast rider to Master Hobbey, so at least he has some advance warning of this nonsense. I suggest we meet in Kingston on Wednesday. As early as possible—I will send you a note.'

'We agree on the practicalities, then,' I said, trying to lighten the discussion. After all, I would be stuck with Dyrick for well over a week.

He leaned in close again. 'Be assured, you will find nothing. And when we come before the court next month I will make you regret this nonsense. That is, unless the French land and we find ourselves cut off in a battle zone.' He sighed deeply, then looked at me. 'You could still pull out. Go after your client and advise her she will be bankrupted, which she will. Unless I find evidence the case is being maintained by the Queen, in which case Mistress Calfhill could find herself in prison.'

I met his gaze. I knew he was bluffing, he would never dare bring the Queen into this. He gave me a final vicious look and turned away. 'Come on, you,' he said to Feaveryear.

Barak and I were left alone in the vestibule.' Now,' I said, 'come. There are things we must discuss.'

Chapter Eleven

I TOOK BARAK to a tavern. 'That was a clever idea,' he said, 'getting my name on the order. But will it override Goodryke's orders?' The hand that held his mug was trembling slightly.

'Yes. It is an order of the court, instructing you personally to accompany me. Sir William Paulet has more power than any whiffler. Go back to Wards this afternoon and fetch the signed order, then take it round to Carver at the Guildhall. He can show it to Goodryke. And the day after tomorrow we will be gone.'

'Goodryke will know what you've done.'

'He won't be able to do anything about it. Paulet himself will be gone to Portsmouth and the clerks at Wards won't be interested.' I smiled bitterly. 'There's no money in it.'

'Did the idea just come to you in court?'

'Yes. Thank God Dyrick did not object.' I looked serious. 'I know I didn't want you to come, but it seems the only way to keep you safe. I'll tell Warner I don't need a clerk now, though a stout bodyservant would still be useful.'

Barak looked at me. 'Tamasin knows nothing about the attack on you, that warning from those apprentices.'

'Then don't tell her. I'm less worried for my own safety than I was. Dyrick knows I have the Queen's patronage, and I have no doubt he will tell Hobbey when he writes. If the danger came from them, they're not going to risk trouble from that quarter. Though I am less and less sure they set those boys on me. Dyrick is a nasty piece of work, but I don't think he'd do something that could cause him trouble at the Bar.'

'Didn't like the look of him at all. What's his history?'

'I've asked around Lincoln's Inn. He's a London fellow, his father was some sort of clerk. He did well at his examinations and chose to specialize in land litigation and the Court of Wards. He's a strange one; it's as though he knows no other way of being than aggression. Yet from what he said he'll miss his wife and children.'

'If not him, then who was it set those boys on you? And I still think there is something suspicious about Michael's suicide.'

I considered. 'There is no evidence for that. All we have is an empty room.'

'I suppose if those boys really wanted you out of the way they would have killed you, or hurt you badly.'

'Yes.' I looked at him. 'When we go south you are not to go chasing trouble. This man Warner has promised me can come with me to where Ellen lived when I go there.'

'You're still going to look into that?'

'Oh, yes.'

He raised his eyebrows. Then he said quietly, 'Tamasin must have the final word on this. Will you come home with me?'

* * *

HALF AN HOUR later we were back at Barak's house, in the little parlour. Tamasin sat opposite us. Through the window bees hovered over her pretty flower garden.

'You must decide, Tammy,' Barak said.

She sighed deeply. 'Oh, Jack, if only you had dealt with that man civilly in the first place—'

'Tammy, I am more sorry than I can say.'

'With luck,' I said, 'we may be back in under two weeks. Well in time for the birth.'

She looked at Barak. 'At least I wouldn't have to put up with your fussing around.' Her tone was light but I could see she was blinking back tears. And I knew how frightened they both were that this baby might be born dead like their first, and how much they needed each other now. But I could see no better plan. Barak reached across and took Tamasin's hand.

'It is a hard journey to make in these times,' she said.

'We have travelled harder and longer,' Barak said. 'To York, where I met you.'

'You'd better not meet anyone else in Hampshire,' she said in mock-threatening tones, and I realized she had decided my plan was for the best.

'I won't.'

She looked at me. 'What if the French invade near where you are?'

'Hoyland, the place where we are going, is some miles from the coast. And I have just had another thought. There must be many royal post riders taking messages up and down between London and the troops on the coast. Trained men, with relays of horses waiting for them, and priority on the road. I am sure I could arrange with Master Warner for letters to go back and forth that way. At least you can send each other news. And I want to keep in touch with Warner.' I smiled. 'It will do no harm for me to receive one or two letters with the seal of the Queen's household.'

'What about your house?' Tamasin asked. 'That pig of a steward?'

'I will have to ask Guy to take charge of the household. I didn't want to trouble him, but I see no alternative. And I want him to keep an eye on someone for me.'

'Ellen?' Barak asked.

'Yes.'

'That woman,' Tamasin said. 'She only brings you trouble.' I did not reply, and she looked at Barak again. 'This is the only way to stop you being conscripted, isn't it?'

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