C. Sansom - Dark Fire

Kytchyn nodded seriously. 'Ay, they did. That motto.'

' "Lupus est homo homini" Man is wolf to man. But, if they knew that, why did they keep the damned stuff? Why not destroy it? If they had, none of this trouble would have come on any of us.'

A sad flicker of a smile crossed Kytchyn's face. 'Struggles between Church and State did not begin with the king's lust for the Bullen whore, sir. There have often been – differences.'

'That is true.'

'St John was at Barty's in the days of the wars between York and Lancaster. Unstable, warlike times. I imagine the monks kept Greek Fire in case they should find themselves under threat and could use it as a bargaining tool. We had to be politicians, sir. Monks always were. Then, when the Tudors restored stability to the land, Greek Fire was forgotten. Perhaps deliberately.'

'Because the Tudors made England safe.' I smiled sadly. 'There's an irony.'

I FELT ENCOURAGED as I rode down to the river bank to meet Lady Honor. Here was some possible progress at last: I would go to Barty's again tomorrow. I would have to invent some story for being there. I turned possibilities over in my mind as I left Genesis at an inn stables and walked down a crowded lane to Three Cranes Wharf. The big cranes which gave the place its name came into view over the rooftops, outlined against a sky where white clouds were scudding along. They gave no promise of rain, but provided welcome moments of shade as they passed beneath the sun. Flower sellers were doing a brisk trade at the bottom of Three Cranes Lane, where Marchamount's party was to meet. I had left off my robe for the occasion, donning a bright green doublet that I seldom wore and my best hose.

The Thames was alive with wherries and barges. Innumerable tilt boats passed up and down, some of the passengers playing lutes and pipes under the canopies, a merry sound across the water. All London seemed to have come to the river to savour the breeze. A raucous crowd was waiting at the wharf for boats to take them across to the bear-baiting, and I saw Lady Honor standing with Marchamount at the centre of a group by the river steps. Today she wore a black hood and a wide yellow farthingale. She smiled at some remark of Marchamount's, making those engaging dimples round her mouth. How well she can disguise her feelings when she needs to, I thought: one would think him her best friend.

I recognized some of the other guests as mercers who had attended the banquet; a couple had brought their wives. Lady Honor's two attendant ladies and a pair of servants stood beside her, together with young Henry, who was looking nervously around at the crowds. Armed men kept the throng waiting to cross to the bear ring at a distance, watchful for cutpurses.

Lady Honor saw me and called out, 'Master Shardlake! Quick! The boat is here!'

I hurried across and bowed. 'I am sorry, I hope I have not kept you waiting.'

'Only a few minutes.' Her smile was warm.

Marchamount bowed briefly to me, then began ushering people officiously towards the river steps. 'Come along, everyone, before the tide turns.'

A large tilt boat with four oarsmen was waiting, its bright blue sail flapping gently in the breeze. The party was in good spirits, all chattering merrily as they stepped aboard. 'Tired of your robe, Shardlake?' Marchamount asked as I settled myself opposite him. He was wearing his serjeant's robe, and sweating mightily.

'A concession to the heat.'

'I've never seen you dressed so brightly.' He smiled. 'It looks quite extraordinary.'

I turned to Lady Honor's cousin, who was sitting beside me. 'Are you enjoying London better, Master Henry?'

The boy reddened. 'It is hard to get used to after Lincolnshire. So many people crowded together, they give me a headache.' His face brightened. 'But I have been to dine with the. Duke of Norfolk. His house is very splendid. I hear Mistress Howard is often there, that they say may be queen soon.'

I coughed. 'I'd be careful what you say about that in public.'

Marchamount laughed. 'Come, Shardlake, it's as certain as can be. Cromwell's days are numbered.'

'I hear Lord Cromwell is a great rogue, of no breeding,' Henry said.

'You really should be careful where you say that,' I warned him.

He gave me an uncertain look. Lady Honor was right, this boy had not the wit to make a path for his family at court. I glanced at the head of the boat, where Lady Honor sat looking out over the river, her face thoughtful. Ahead, on the Southwark side, the high circular arena of the bear-baiting ring loomed up. I sighed inwardly, for I had ever disliked watching the huge, terrified animals torn apart to the roars of the crowd.

I felt a touch on my arm. Marchamount beckoned me to lean down so he could whisper to me. I felt his hot breath in my ear.

'Are you any closer to finding those missing papers?' he asked.

'My investigations continue-'

'I hope you will not be troubling Lady Honor further about them. She is a woman of great delicacy. I like to think she looks on me as a counsellor now that her poor husband is dead.'

I leaned back and stared at him. He nodded complacently. Remembering what Lady Honor had told me, I had to resist an urge to laugh in his face. I glanced at Henry Vaughan and saw he was staring over the water, lost in his own gloomy thoughts. I leaned in to Marchamount's large, hairy ear.

'I have had my eye on you, Serjeant, by the authority of Lord Cromwell. I know you have had certain conversations with Lady Honor, involving matters of interest to yourself and to the Duke of Norfolk.' At that his head jerked aside and he gave me a startled look.

'You have no right -' he blustered, but I gave him a set look and crooked a finger so that, reluctantly, he bent his head again.

'I have every right, Serjeant, as well you know, so don't piss me about pretending an authority you do not have in this matter.' I was surprised at my own crudity; I was picking up Barak's ways.

'That's a private matter,' he whispered. 'Nothing to do with – with the missing papers. I swear.'

'Your interest is of a romantic nature, I believe.'

His face reddened. 'Please say nothing about that. Please. For her sake as well as mine. It is – it is embarrassing.' His look was suddenly pleading.

'She did not tell me willingly, Marchamount, if that is any consolation. But, be assured, I will say nothing. Nor about the duke being after her lands.'

His eyes widened briefly for a moment in surprise. 'Ah, yes, the lands,' he said a little too quickly. 'A privy matter.'

I had to lean back then because the boat hit the Bankside steps, making us all jerk slightly. The ladies laughed. The boatman began helping them out. Looking at Marchamount's broad back as he clambered ahead of me, I thought, he was surprised when I spoke of the duke being after Lady Honor's lands. Was it something different that Norfolk really wanted of her? I remembered her hand on the Bible as she swore the duke had never asked her to discuss Greek Fire, and my doubts about her faith.

The bank was crowded with people, mostly of the common sort, heading for the baiting. A man in a jerkin brushed against Lady Honor's broad skirts. One of her attendants gave a yelp and a servant shoved him away. Lady Honor sighed.

'Really, one wonders if coming here is worth it with all this crush and noise.' I saw there was a sheen of perspiration on her lip.

'It will be, Lady Honor,' Marchamount said. 'There is a fine bear from Germany called Magnus being baited today. He's over six feet tall, killed five dogs yesterday and ended the day alive. I've a shilling on him going down today, though, he was much bloodied.'

Lady Honor looked over at the high wooden amphitheatre. A great crowd was waiting by the gates, and shouting and cheering could already be heard from within: the old blind bears were already in the ring, the dogs loosed on them. She sighed again.