Iris Collier - Day of Wrath

‘Not stealing, buying. What’s wrong with that?’

‘Because these buildings were built by people like my ancestors over four hundred years ago to be power-houses of prayer. You are going to strike a blow at God himself.’

‘I see you are a man of principle, my Lord, and that’s not a wise person to be at the moment – just look at Sir Thomas More; now there’s a man of principle if ever there was one. Some would call him a fool. I just think he’s an anachronism. But I respect a man who cares for his family and has high ideals, like you; as long as he’s loyal. And I think you are such a person, Lord Nicholas. Your family have always been loyal, and you know where disloyalty can lead.’

‘It can lead to civil war and the downfall of the lawful ruler. I hope I never have to go through the troubles that England went through fifty years ago like my father did.’

‘Quite so, my Lord. May King Henry protect us against those times ever being repeated. Now sir, don’t look so gloomy. I can see you have a high regard for your friends in the Priory. There’s no need to despair. The King likes you and respects your integrity, and has told me to sort everything out so that we’re all happy. It’s my job as an administrator to minimise the inconveniences. I’ll see to it that the monks get their pensions and I shall keep the job of Precentor open for your Prior until the time comes when he’ll be looking for a job. For a small sum you can keep your Priory, the services will go on under the Vicar…’

‘Master Cromwell, I’ll listen to no more of this. I can’t haggle over a building dedicated to God like a horse-dealer at a fair. I have a long journey ahead of me, and I must prepare for the King’s visit. Good day to you.’

‘Very well, Lord Nicholas. Everyone is entitled to his opinion. We shall meet again very soon. Oh by the way, we might have to ask you to come and speak to Mortimer soon.’

‘Sir Roger?’ said Nicholas aghast. ‘What, in God’s name can I say to him? He’ll be more in need of a priest by the time I get to him.’

‘We want Mortimer to name names. I don’t share the King’s optimism that the conspiracy codenamed the Day of Wrath is over. Mortimer hasn’t the leadership qualities to turn honest men into rebels. He’s just one of the pawns. There are others. And whilst they remain free, the King cannot sleep easily at night. Now you, Lord Nicholas, could be very persuasive.’

‘I’ll have nothing to do with your inhuman activities.’

‘Inhuman? Surely you agree that Mortimer should be interrogated? It’s the necessary fate of all traitors.’

‘And may I point out that he hasn’t been tried yet. Thank God no one in this country can be declared guilty before he’s even been tried. This is England, not France.’

‘Quite so. But there’s no doubt he’s guilty. We have letters to prove it. A trial will only be a mere formality. But he must tell us who the other conspirators are, and that’s where you come in. You and his wife. Between you you’ll make him talk.’

‘Then I am mistaken. This isn’t England. Master Cromwell, there’s no doubt you make a brilliant administrator, but I wouldn’t be in your shoes when the day comes that you can no longer please the King. And when you face your Maker, there will be no monks to pray for your soul.’

‘I’ll take the risk, my Lord. I’ll take the risk.’

Early on Monday morning, Nicholas picked up Harry at the Three Horseshoes in Petworth and rode the last lap of the journey. Harry had been well fed and well treated at the inn where Nicholas was a regular visitor, and took the steep climb up Duncton Hill with nonchalant ease. At the top, Nicholas reined him in and paused to look across the flat coastal plain towards the sea, which shimmered on the horizon like a silver girdle. The early morning mist had cleared and he could see the spire of Marchester Cathedral and the five inlets of Marchester harbour stretched out like a giant’s hand. This was his county, the county which his ancestors had settled in and served for four hundred years. The soil was fertile, the climate temperate, the sea teeming with fish and its people easy-going and prosperous. It was difficult to believe that anyone should contemplate treason here, but two men had been arrested and he felt sure others would follow.

Harry took the last few miles in his stride, and Nicholas was home by mid-morning. This time Geoffrey Lowe was ready for him and opened the main gate as soon as he heard him arrive. Simon led Harry away and Nicholas walked across the courtyard towards the house with Geoffrey, who looked very worried.

‘What’s up, Geoffrey? You look like a man going to a funeral. Cheer up and get me some ale, and a cut of beef, if you please. I’ve had a long night and only a couple of hours’ sleep.’

‘It’s ready and waiting, my Lord. We were expecting you. Have you heard the dreadful news? Sir Roger’s been arrested and carted off to London, him and his wife. We’ve all been knocked for six. Prior Thomas is hopping mad and says they’ve all made a horrible mistake. Fitzroy’s come over from Arundel and put one of his stewards in Sir Roger’s house, and the cook’s going raving mad up there trying to please them all. Are you all right, sir? No chance of them coming to arrest you?’

‘Not if I can help it. Yes, I know all about Mortimer. I’ll get over to the Lodge as soon as I’ve sorted things out here. What’s happened to his children?’

‘They’ve gone off to Lady Margot’s relations. Such a shrieking and a yelling, it was awful to see and I hope I never have to see it again. It’s a terrible thing, sir, when children are torn away from their parents like that.’

A corner of the table in the main hall had been laid with a plate and a knife and Geoffrey filled the pewter tankard with ale and fetched cold beef and bread from the kitchen. Nicholas ate and drank quickly. Then he pushed his plate away and looked round the room. Despite the fire burning in the massive fireplace, the room felt chill and looked dark and gloomy. Why was it that, since Mary died, his house felt like a prison and not like a comfortable home? There was work to be done and not long to do it in.

‘You’ve done well, Geoffrey, whilst I’ve been away. Keeping house isn’t bailiff’s work, is it?’

‘I’ve tried to keep things ticking over now that Matthew’s gone to God.’

‘We’ll have to get extra hands, Geoffrey. This place needs cleaning up, those windows are filthy. We’ve got to get beds aired, cellars stocked up, food brought in and lambs selected for the table.’

‘Are you expecting guests, sir?’ said Geoffrey, staring at Nicholas in horror.

‘Yes, and soon. There’s a lot to do.’

‘May I ask who’s coming, sir?’

‘Let us just say some very important guests. They’ll only be staying for a couple of nights, with any luck, but they’ll expect a feast, and God help us, they’ll probably want to go hunting.’

‘Sir, we haven’t the servants, we haven’t a steward…’

‘Don’t worry, they’ll be sending their own steward to give us a hand. You’ll only have to hire servants, scullions, chambermaids, a cook, that sort of thing.’

‘Lord help us,’ said Geoffrey aghast. ‘How many people are coming?’

‘I don’t know. About fifty, I suppose. Most of them can sleep up in the attic. We’ll need extra beds brought in. The Prior’ll help us out, I’m sure. Now, Geoffrey, one serious word. I don’t want all this spread around the county, do you hear? Complete secrecy.’

‘I’ll do my best, sir, but when it gets to hiring servants and all the comings and goings up here, word’s bound to get around. I’ll not say a word, but I can’t stop folk noticing.’