Lamentation

‘Thank you, Nicholas,’ I said. There was still loyalty in chambers at least, and my spirits rose a little.

‘But what happened at the council?’ Barak asked.

I told them about my appearance there, Rich’s unexpected help, and Martin’s disloyalty, concluding with my encounter with Rowland. I asked ruefully, ‘Has either of you a spare gold chain you don’t need?’

‘Rowland’s an arsehole,’ Barak said. ‘The way he cheated Bealknap, it almost makes me feel sorry for the old rogue.’ He looked at Nicholas. ‘If you make a career in the law, be sure you don’t turn out like either of them.’

Nicholas did not reply. I studied him. What would he do when his period with me came to an end in a few months? Run for the hills, if he was wise. But I hoped he would not.

‘So you still have to go to the ceremonials?’ Barak said. ‘I’m going with Tamasin to see the admiral arriving at Greenwich on Friday. She insisted.’

‘I should like to see that,’ Nicholas said.

‘I wish it were all over, these ceremonies that I must attend.’ I looked at him. ‘Try all you can to get the message through that I am about to write. It may be possible, now, to set up a meeting between Brocket and Stice at the house and then grab Stice. We may be able to find out exactly what Rich has been doing.’

Barak raised his eyebrows. ‘How? He won’t willingly betray his master. He’s not some youngster who got himself involved with crazy Anabaptists, like Myldmore and Leeman.’

‘I’ll leave that to Lord Parr,’ I answered grimly.

He looked at me askance. ‘I quite agree; but that’s a bit ruthless for you, isn’t it?’

‘I have had enough.’

‘What is Rich up to? We all thought he’d changed tack after the heresy hunt ended and Anne Askew’s book was taken. That he was helping you. But it was him, through Stice and Brocket, who reported your burning those books.’

‘Rich can never be trusted. And yet I can’t see either why he would report my burning the books to the council now. It was risky, I could have spilled the truth about Anne Askew.’

‘Rich always turns with the political wind, doesn’t he?’

‘Yes. He started as Cromwell’s man.’

‘What if this was a double-bluff? Rich gets the matter onto the council agenda along with the Slanning complaints because he knew that your burning the books wasn’t illegal, and that the Slanning charges were all shit?’

‘Why would he do that?’ Nicholas asked.

‘Because he is turning with the tide towards the reformers,’ Barak answered excitedly. ‘The whole performance could have been intended to show a shift of loyalty on his part, by siding with Lord Hertford and the Queen’s brother.’

‘That sounds too devious to be credible,’ Nicholas said doubtfully.

‘Nothing is too devious for those courtiers,’ I replied vigorously. ‘But the problem with that idea is that Rich knew nothing of the Slanning case. He didn’t know Isabel would have no evidence and make a fool of herself as she did. And he seemed genuinely worried afterwards.’ I sighed. ‘Only Lord Parr can help to sort this out. And he ought to be told about it.’

Barak said, ‘The Queen’s brother will have told him.’

‘Not the whole story.’

‘What role is Secretary Paget playing in all this?’ Nicholas asked. ‘They say he is the King’s closest adviser.’

‘No: his closest servant. There is a difference. He is the King’s eyes and ears, the ringmaster, if you like. From all I understand, he never challenges the King over policy. He remembers Wolsey and Cromwell too well.’ I smiled wryly. ‘He is the Master of Practices, not Policy.’

‘He must have an eye to the future; when the King is no longer here.’

‘Well said,’ Barak agreed. ‘He’ll be looking out for his own interest; he’ll no doubt jump to whichever faction is most likely to win.’

‘He is like all of them,’ I said angrily. ‘He will do anything to anybody. And people like me are the pawns, useful in the game but dispensable. And now, Nick, smarten yourself up a little, while I write this letter.’

I did no work for the remainder of that afternoon. After sending Nicholas with the message, I went out and sat in the shade on a bench under an old beech tree, occasionally nodding to colleagues who passed by. Nobody, thank God, knew I had been in the Tower a second time, though doubtless the news would get out as it always did. Exhausted, I closed my eyes and dozed. After a time I heard something fall onto the bench beside me and, opening my eyes, saw it was a leaf, dry and yellow-tinged. Autumn would soon be here.

I turned at the sound of someone calling my name. John Skelly was running towards me. I stood. It was too early for a reply from Hampton Court. ‘Master Coleswyn has called to see you, sir,’ he said as he came up. ‘He seems agitated.’

I sighed. ‘I will come.’

‘I thought you no longer represented Mistress Slanning, sir. I thought your involvement in that case was over.’

I said with feeling, ‘I wonder, John, if that case will ever end.’

But it was about to, and for ever.

Chapter Forty-five