Paul Doherty: The Relic Murders

I blinked innocently. Benjamin smiled, shaking his head and, taking his spade, began to fill the hole. I stood and watched, fingering that old spearhead in my wallet; already a vague idea was beginning to form but silence is the best counsel to follow in such matters.

We returned to the manor. Benjamin now seemed light-hearted, and the tension between us had dissipated. I decided to relax and enjoy the golden autumn sun. The next day I was supposed to be helping with the early harvest I forget the precise details. Anyway, whilst everyone else was working, I and young Lucy Witherspoon found ourselves on top of a haystack. I was teaching her the principles of mathematics and counting, using the laces across her ample bodice as an exemplar. I had just reached the last lace when I heard Benjamin call my name. I looked over the haystack, whispering at Lucy to stay there with the wine I had brought Benjamin was staring up at me.

'Roger, come down. You look tired. You've been too long under the sun!'

I just ignored him, my flesh already turning cold at the sight of the visitor standing next to him: Doctor Agrippa! I have talked about this creature many a time. Of medium height and cherubic face, Agrippa had twinkling eyes which could, at a drop of a coin, turn iron hard. As usual he was dressed in sepulchral black from head to toe, his jovial face almost hidden by the broad-brimmed hat. Whatever the weather, he always wore a cloak and black leather gloves on his hands so people couldn't see the strange emblems, bloody crosses on each palm. Warlock? Wizard? I don't know. He was Wolsey's familiar. Agrippa claimed to have lived when the legions still strutted across Europe and the Barbarians hadn't yet poured across the great northern rivers. A man who had been in Palestine when Christ our Lord was crucified. Agrippa claimed to have seen the Golden Horde led by Genghis Khan and been present at Constantinople when the gates were breached and the Turks poured in. A man doomed to live for ever! Agrippa had come to England to stop, as he once told me in hushed tones, the river of blood that Henry the Great Beast was about to unleash. Agrippa was very worried by Henry. He called him the Mouldwarp, the Dark Prince prophesied by Merlin who would turn England from the path of righteousness and unleash horrors for which the kingdom would pay for centuries. He was fascinated by me, was our good Doctor, always sidling up to me. I can still recall his strange odour when he was pleased, the most fragrant of perfumes, cloying and rich. When he was angry or sad, the smell changed to that of an empty skillet left over a roaring fire.

Did he live for ever? Ten summers ago I commissioned my good ship The Witherspoon to go a-pirating on the Spanish Main. My captain put in at a port in Virginia, and was sitting in a bottle shop, when in strolled Agrippa. According to my man's description he wasn't a day older. He was accompanied by tribesmen with shaven heads and painted faces. Agrippa explained he had been out west across the great mountain range but he still remembered Old Shallot and asked the captain give me his most tender regards. Only a summer ago, when I was in the Mermaid tavern joking with Ben Jonson and lying fit to burst, I saw a man standing in the doorway looking across at me. He smiled, raised a hand and was gone. I recognised that face immediately. Doctor Agrippa had returned. Ah well, the passage of time! The crumbling of the flesh! These things were yet to come. On that golden autumn day, with the sweat like silver pearls on my young body, I just stared at Agrippa and groaned. Dearest Uncle, Cardinal Thomas Wolsey, clad in his purple silk, was about to summon us in to the lair of the Great Beast.

Agrippa must have read my thoughts. He came to the foot of the ladder and stared up at me.

'No, no, Roger,' he whispered in that gentle parson's voice of his. 'You are not for court, my lad. I come to say goodbye to Benjamin. ‘I’ve brought tender messages from his sweet uncle as well as the King's good wishes for both him and you.' 'Bugger off!' I snarled. 'There's mischief afoot, isn't there?'

Agrippa just shook his head. 'Come down, Roger. I've also brought a bottle of red wine from Italy; Falernian to wash the mouth and clear the stomach. And my boys, my retinue, would love to shake the dice.'

His boys! The nicest group of cutthroats you'd ever hope to meet. Villains born and bred. Old Agrippa knew I felt completely at home in their company.

I came down that ladder as quickly as a rat along a pipe. Little Lucy would have to wait a while before 1 finished my lesson in numbers.

Agrippa's rascals were waiting for me in the yard and fell about my neck like long-lost brothers. I drew my dagger and told them to stay away from my purse. They all laughed, slapped me on the back and said what a fine fellow I was and wouldn't I like to play dice? I told them to keep their hands to themselves and that I knew how many chickens we had in the yard. I then joined my master and Agrippa in the solar.

At first we listened to his chatter about the court and who was in favour and who was not. Later, as we feasted on beef roasted in mustard, our silver plates piled high with vegetables served in a mushroom sauce, Agrippa ordered the servants to be dismissed and the door closed. For a while he just sat and discussed Benjamin's forthcoming visit to Venice.

'You won't be there long,' he declared. 'Deliver some letters, give His Majesty's felicitations to the Doge and the Council and then… back to England.' 'Then why should I go at all?' Benjamin asked.

Agrippa pulled a face. He doffed his hat and hung it on the back of his chair but he still kept his gloves on. He glanced up; his eyes had changed to that fathomless black.

'You have to go, Master Daunbey. You are the Cardinal's good nephew. The Doge would see it as a great honour.'

'Yes,' Benjamin replied caustically. 'I suppose the King needs Venetian galleys to watch the coast of France?' 'Aye, and to seal the straits of Hercules,' Agrippa replied.

He fell silent, staring down at the white tablecloth, humming softly, rocking himself gently backwards and forwards. Darkness had fallen. The candlelight and the flame of the torches suddenly flared as a cold breeze swept through the room. The silence turned eerie. There was no sound except Agrippa's humming. A shiver ran up my spine. I felt we weren't alone: as if Agrippa was calling upon some dark force, beings who live on the edge of our existence. I glanced into the corner expecting to see some sombre shape lurking there. Benjamin too was caught by the spell so he grasped the good doctor's gloved hand. 'Master Agrippa!' Our visitor kept his eyes closed. 'Master Agrippa!' Benjamin shook his hand.

Agrippa opened his eyes. In the candlelight his face had changed: it was younger, the skin smoother, taking on a more olive Italianate look. I had seen such a face upon a Roman fresco that my master had unearthed in a villa outside Norwich.

4I am sorry.' Agrippa shook himself free of his reverie. 'But it's beginning…' 'For God's sake!' Benjamin snapped. 'What is beginning?'

'The Mouldwarp, the Prince of Darkness, the Devil's Dance. The King is determined 'To do what?' I asked.

'Win back English lands in France. Outdo the feats of Henry V. Create an English empire in Europe.' He paused. 'And something else, secret, that even the Lord Cardinal doesn't know.'

I suppose we should have questioned him on that but Agrippa talked on hurriedly about Fat Henry's military ambitions. When he finished Benjamin groaned, and even I could see the folly of it all. The Great Beast hated Francis I: our King also saw himself as a second Alexander, a warrior more puissant than Edward III, The Black Prince or Henry V. Only Calais remained in English hands but Fat Henry wanted to change that: annexe Gascony, Normandy, Maine and Anjou. A war which would turn Europe into a living hell. Agrippa glanced at Benjamin.