C Sansom - Sovereign

‘He overheard me talking to Radwinter.’ I took a deep breath. ‘Radwinter wormed out of me that the King mocked me at the Progress today. Broderick overheard our conversation and related the Mouldwarp nonsense. But I swear I said no word against the King.’

Rich leaned back, giving me a sidelong look. ‘You had better not, or you will be in the hottest of hot water. You are in bad enough odour with the Privy Council. My advice to you, Master Shardlake, is to follow the natural inclination of your bent body and keep your head down.’

‘Yes, Sir Richard.’

‘A low profile. That is the best course for you from now on.’ He spoke slowly and carefully, fixing me with his eyes, grey and lifeless as those of a corpse. He leaned forward. ‘It might help your reputation a little if you were to advise the London Guildhall to drop the Bealknap case.’

I met his gaze. I realized Rich had probably volunteered to be the Privy Councillor who would question me; it was a chance to put some pressure on. I did not reply. He inclined his head slightly.

‘In any event it will do no good to keep on with that matter. I have found the judge I want, the case has been assigned to him.’

‘Who?’ I asked.

‘The case has not been formally set down yet. You will find out if you continue. You would be better to take my word for it, advise the Guildhall to drop the case now, and save costs.’

Take Rich’s word was one thing I would never do. I saw Barak look at me anxiously. Rich saw too. ‘Perhaps you can advise your master to see sense,’ he snapped. ‘Otherwise, I do not know what will become of him. All right, that will be all. You can go.’

Maleverer leaned over to Rich and spoke quietly but eagerly. ‘May we take the opportunity, Sir Richard, of discussing the property of Aske’s family? If the disbursements can be agreed -’

‘Not now.’ Rich frowned and looked at me. ‘I told you to go,’ he said. ‘Send for that Marlin woman.’ He waved a hand at us and we left the room. Outside, a guard was waiting to lead us downstairs.

‘Some corrupt business between those two,’ I murmured to Barak.

IT WAS ALMOST dark now.

‘Shit,’ Barak said. ‘Shit, shit, shit.’

‘Couldn’t have put it better myself,’ I said bitterly.

‘What are you going to do about the Bealknap case?’

‘I don’t believe Rich has managed to bribe a judge. If he had he’d have given the name. No, he was just using the opportunity to intimidate me.’

‘Intimidate you?’ Barak came to a halt. He looked angry, and as worried as I had ever seen him. ‘Intimidate you?’ he repeated. ‘Have you any idea just how much pressure he can put on you if he wants? On a man who has the disapproval of the Privy Council? What he could do to you now if he really wanted?’

‘I have Cranmer’s protection.’

‘And Cranmer’s here, is he? I can’t see any archbishop’s robes among this lot. And Cranmer can’t stand against Rich, not if Rich has the Privy Council behind him.’

‘Cranmer-’

‘Would only risk so much for someone as lowly as you. Or me. I’m in trouble too – it was me decided to try and open that fucking box!’

‘I will not be pressured or blackmailed into giving up a case!’

‘You’ve said yourself you didn’t think you could win.’

‘I won’t be blackmailed!’ I realized I was shouting.

‘Obstinacy,’ Barak said. ‘Obstinacy and pride. It’ll be the death of you – of both of us.’ He opened his mouth to say more, then closed it again and walked away.

I ran a hand across my brow. ‘Shit!’ I said. A passing official looked at me curiously. I turned, walked down the side of the church and made my way to the bench under the copper beech. I sat down heavily under the branches. People were still going to and fro through the gate that led to the encampment. I shivered, for there was a chill in the air now.

Barak’s outburst had surprised me. When I first met him a year ago he had been defiance itself, ready to treat the highest with disrespect. But then he had been under Lord Cromwell’s patronage and, as Rich had taken pleasure in reminding us, Cromwell was dead. And now, as Barak had said, part of him at least wanted a quiet life. But it had been strange to hear him accuse me of obstinacy and recklessness. I felt a warm flush of self-righteousness. I was protecting my clients, as every honest lawyer must. My integrity in the often corrupt world of the law was my badge, my identity. Was even that to be taken from me by these mocking courtiers?

But as I sat under the tree a while a calmer humour settled on me. I knew I was clinging on to my reputation for integrity because, after the battering I had taken during that long day, it was all I felt I had left. And I had no right to involve Barak in any unwise defiance of Rich. Yet I could not abandon my clients if, as I thought, we had a chance of winning. Barak should surely know that.

I jerked upright at the sound of approaching footsteps. I remembered that I could still be in danger. A dim figure was approaching across the grass; I was relieved to see it was a woman, her dress rustling as she stepped into the carpet of fallen leaves under the tree. As she came close I saw to my surprise that it was Tamasin, in her yellow dress and wearing a fine silver necklace.

‘Mistress Reedbourne?’

She curtsied, then stood uncertainly before me. She seemed nervous, not at all her usual pert self.

‘I wondered, sir, if I might speak with you,’ she asked hesitantly. ‘I saw you sitting there.’

‘What about?’

‘It is important, sir. Important to me.’

‘Very well.’ I gestured to the bench and she sat beside me. She did not speak for a moment, she seemed to be considering what to say. I studied her. With her high cheekbones, full mouth and determined chin she was indeed a very pretty girl. Yet so young; little more than a child it seemed to me.

‘Mistress Marlin has been taken to Sir William for questioning,’ she said at length.

‘Yes. Barak and I have just been with him. And Sir Richard Rich.’

‘Mistress Marlin looked angry. She dislikes Sir William greatly.’

‘Yes. I saw that when you were brought in for questioning on Wednesday.’

She reddened at the reminder of her deception.

‘You would have been better to have left Barak and me alone,’ I said. ‘I am involved in some very confidential matters.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘We have had words. He will have told you. He is an impertinent fellow, Master Jack.’

‘He is anxious, sir.’

‘Usually it is me who is the anxious one.’ I hesitated. ‘But perhaps this time he is right.’ I looked at her, wondering how much of our business he had told her. The less the better, for her sake. ‘Do you know where he is now?’

‘He has just left to look at the camp. I have been wanting to say, sir…’ she added, then hesitated again.

‘Yes?’ I said encouragingly. It cannot have been easy for her to come and seek me out; Barak’s cross-grained old employer as she probably thought of me.

‘I am sorry for the trick I played that day you first came to York.’

I nodded. ‘It was foolish. And unbecoming for a woman. Maleverer was right there. Yet he should not have struck you.’

She shook her head. ‘I care little for that.’ She looked at me steadily now. ‘I have had a strange life, Master Shardlake. I have had to make my own way. My mother was a servant at court.’

‘Yes, Barak told me.’

‘She sewed the Queens’ bodyservants’ clothes in the sewery. In Catherine of Aragon’s time, then Anne Boleyn’s.’

‘Did she?’