Ken Follett - A Column of Fire

‘The doctors say there is a malignant growth in her female parts that is causing her belly to swell.’

Rollo said: ‘Ah. Those false pregnancies...’

‘It is so bad that she sometimes falls unconscious.’

‘The poor queen,’ said Margery. She had mixed feelings about Mary Tudor. The queen was an admirably strong-willed and devout woman, but the burnings of Protestants were wrong. Why could people not be devout and merciful at the same time, like Jesus?

Rollo said worriedly: ‘What’s the prognosis?’

‘We understand that she may take some months to die, but she will not recover.’

Margery saw Rollo turn a little pale, and a moment later she understood why. ‘This is the worst possible news,’ he said. ‘Mary Tudor has no child, and young Mary Stuart has made herself a less attractive successor by marrying the wretched French boy. That makes Elizabeth Tudor the leading candidate — and all our efforts to bring her under control have failed.’

Rollo was right. Margery had not seen it as quickly as he had, but as soon as he said it she understood, and so did her father and the earl. England was in danger of falling back into the swamp of heresy. She shivered.

Swithin said: ‘Elizabeth must not become queen! That would be a catastrophe.’

Margery looked at Bart, but he seemed bored. Her husband-to-be was impatient with politics. He preferred to talk about horses and dogs. She felt annoyed with him: the topic was their future!

Reginald said: ‘Mary Stuart is married to a French prince, and the English people don’t want another foreign king.’

‘The English people will have no say in the matter,’ Swithin grunted. ‘Tell them now that their next monarch will be Mary Stuart. By the time it happens they will have got used to the idea.’

Margery thought that was wishful thinking, and her father showed, by his next remark, that he agreed. ‘We can tell them anything,’ said Reginald. ‘But will they believe us?’

Rollo answered the question. ‘They might,’ he said with a speculative air. He was thinking on his feet, Margery could tell, but what he was saying made sense. ‘Especially if the announcement was endorsed by King Felipe.’

‘Perhaps,’ said Sir Reginald. ‘First we would have to get King Felipe to agree.’

Margery began to see a glimmer of hope.

Rollo said: ‘Then we will go and see King Felipe.’

‘Where is he now?’

‘In Brussels, leading his army against the French. But that war is almost over.’

‘We may have to be quick, if the queen is as ill as she seems.’

‘Indeed. We can get passage from Combe Harbour to Antwerp — Dan Cobley has ships going every week. From Antwerp to Brussels is a day’s ride. We’ll be back for the wedding.’

It was ironic, Margery thought, that they would have to rely on the ultra-Protestant Dan Cobley to transport them on this mission.

Rollo said: ‘Would King Felipe receive us?’

Swithin answered the question. ‘He would receive me. England is one of his kingdoms, and I’m one of its greatest noblemen. And he stayed at New Castle once, after the marriage, on his way from Winchester to London.’

The three men looked at one another: Reginald, Rollo and Swithin. ‘Very well,’ said Reginald. ‘We’ll go to Brussels.’

Margery felt better. At least they were doing something.

Rollo stood up. ‘I’ll go and see Dan about a ship,’ he said. ‘We can’t afford to lose any time.’

Ned Willard did not want to go to Kingsbridge for Margery’s wedding, but he had to. The ceremony provided too good a pretext for his undercover mission.

In October he retraced the steps of his July journey, but this time on horseback. His mission was urgent. The queen was dying, and everything was urgent.

His mother seemed shrunken. It was not so much physical — she was still quite heavy — but the spirit had gone out of her. Ned had not really believed her, back in June, when she had said: ‘I’ll be fifty soon — I haven’t got the energy.’ But three months later she was still despondent and lethargic. Ned felt sure now that Alice would never revive the family enterprise. It made him grind his teeth with rage.

But things were going to change. Ned was part of the force that would break the power of men such as Bishop Julius and Sir Reginald. Ned was thrilled to be part of Elizabeth’s household. Both Cecil and Elizabeth liked him, especially since he had defied Swithin. He felt a surge of eager anticipation every time he thought about how they would change the world together. But first they had to put Elizabeth on the throne of England.

He stood with his mother in the market square, waiting for the bride. A brisk north wind blew across the open space. As always, the couple would exchange vows in the porch of the church, then go inside for the wedding Mass. Kingsbridge people greeted Ned warmly. Most of them felt that his family had been severely mistreated.

Swithin and Bart stood at the front of the crowd, Bart wearing a new yellow doublet. There was no sign of the bride yet. Would she look happy or sad? Was she heartbroken, her life ruined because she was not marrying Ned? Or was she by now getting over her love for him and beginning to enjoy her new role with Viscount Bart? Ned was not sure which he would find harder to bear.

But he was not really here for Margery. He raked the crowd, looking for the Protestants. He spotted Dan Cobley and began his mission.

Faking a casual air, he strolled across the square to speak to Dan, who was standing outside the north-west corner of the cathedral. Dan seemed changed, although it had been only three months: he had lost some weight, and his face looked harder as well as leaner. Ned was pleased by the change, for his mission was to turn Dan into a military leader.

It would not be easy.

Exchanging pleasantries, he drew Dan behind a mighty buttress, then spoke in a low voice. ‘The queen is fighting for her life.’

‘So I hear,’ said Dan warily.

Ned was disheartened to see that Dan did not trust him, but he understood why. The Willards had switched from Catholicism to Protestantism and back again too easily for Dan’s liking. Now Dan was not sure where they really stood.

Ned said: ‘The succession is a contest between Elizabeth Tudor and Mary Stuart. Now, Mary is fifteen years old and married to a sickly husband who is even younger: she would be a weak queen, dominated by her French uncles, the Guises — who are ultra-Catholic. You need to fear her.’

‘But Elizabeth goes to Mass.’

‘And she may continue to do so after she becomes queen — no one really knows.’ This was not true. Ned and everyone close to Elizabeth knew she would become openly Protestant as soon as she could, for that was the only way to break the stranglehold of the Church. But they were pretending otherwise to disarm the opposition. In the world of kings and courtiers, Ned had learned, no one told all of the truth all of the time.

Dan said: ‘In that case, why should I care whether our next monarch is Elizabeth Tudor or Mary Stuart?’

‘If Elizabeth becomes queen, she will not burn Protestants for their beliefs.’ That part was true.

Fury blazed in Dan’s eyes at this reminder of his father’s dreadful death; but he controlled his emotions. ‘That’s easy to say.’

‘Be realistic. You want the slaughter of Protestants to stop. Elizabeth is not just your best hope, she’s your only hope.’ Dan did not want to believe this, Ned guessed, but he saw in Dan’s eyes an acknowledgement of the truth, and had the satisfaction of feeling one step closer to his goal.

Reluctantly, Dan said: ‘Why are you telling me this?’

Ned answered Dan’s question with a question. ‘How many Protestants are there in Kingsbridge now?’