Sovereign

I looked at Broderick; he was staring at the ceiling again. There was a moment’s silence, the only sound the patter of rain at the window. ‘Not for now. I will come again, tomorrow probably.’

Once again Radwinter led me outside, locking the heavy door. I could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was angry, yet I was surprised by the ferocity of his look when he turned to me. His face was red, he almost scowled. Now I saw he nourished fire under that ice. In a way it was a relief.

‘You undermine me before that treacherous, filthy rogue, sir.’ His voice was thick with anger. ‘If you wanted to change his rations, could you not have waited till we were outside to tell me?’

I looked at him steadily. ‘I want him to see that I am in charge of his welfare.’

‘I told you before, you do not know what ma

‘I will obey my orders.’ I took a deep breath. ‘I think your judgement is clouded, sir. Not by zeal as the Archbishop told me, but by delight in cruelty.’ The look he gave me was chilling, but anger drove me on. ‘But you will not indulge yourself at the expense of the Archbishop’s orders. He will hear what ma

To my surprise Radwinter laughed in my face, a mocking laugh that echoed round the dank corridor.

‘You think the Archbishop does not know me? He knows me well, sir, and knows that England needs such as me to keep it safe from heretics!’ He stepped closer to me. ‘And we all serve a just and angry God. You should not forget it.’

Chapter Eight

WE HEADED BACK TO the Minster, walking quickly for we were very late for Master Wre

‘Perhaps I should take a message to Maleverer at St Mary’s now,’ Barak suggested. ‘About the boy looking at the spot on the wall.’

I hesitated. ‘No, I need you to help with the petitions, the summaries must be ready for tomorrow morning. We will leave as soon as we can, go straight back to St Mary’s. Besides, they’ve probably scared whatever he knows out of that unfortunate boy.’

Arriving at the Minster, I showed my papers again at the gate and we passed inside once more.

Just then a shaft of sunlight pierced the clouds that were gathering, shining on the huge windows of the great church and making a riot of colour.

‘Why is York Minster allowed to keep its stained glass,’ Barak asked, ‘while the monasteries have it all torn out as idolatrous?’

‘There are reformers who would pull the coloured glass from all churches, have only plain windows. But the King’s limited himself to the monasteries. For now.’

‘It makes no sense.’

‘It’s part of the compromise with the traditional party. You can’t expect politics to make sense.’

‘You’re right there.’

The old housekeeper answered Wre

‘Brother Shardlake. And young Barak, good.’

‘I am sorry we are late,’ I said. ‘You had my note?’

‘Yes. Some urgent business, you said?’

Again I told the story of the glazier falling into his cart, leaving out the subsequent events. Wre

‘Peter Oldroyd. Yes, I knew him; I have done legal work for the glaziers’ guild, he was chairman one year. A quiet, respectable fellow; lost his family in the plague in ’38. It is sad.’ Wre

‘Yes, he was not the gentle saint some people paint him.’

‘But he had a good turn of phrase. I have been reading what he said about the Wars between the Roses last century. “These matters be Kings’ games, as it were stage plays, and for the most part played upon scaffolds.” ’

‘So they were. Upon bloody fields of battle too.’

‘Indeed. But sit; take some wine before we begin. You look as though it has been a hard morning.’

‘Thank you.’ As I took a cup my eye strayed to the piles of books. ‘You have a most rare collection, sir.’

‘Yes, I have many old monkish books. They are not theological works, that would have me under surveillance from the Council of the North, but I have saved some valuable works of history and philosophy. For their interest, and their beauty too. I am something of an antiquarian, you see. It has been an interest all my life.’

‘That is a worthy task, sir. There was much wrong with the monasteries, but so much learning and beauty has gone to the fire. I have seen pages written with care hundreds of years ago used to wipe down horses.’

Wre

‘Perhaps I may see it some time.’

‘Indeed.’ Wre

‘Lincoln’s I

‘I studied at Gray’s I

I did a quick calculation in my head: fifty-five years ago, he must be well over seventy. ‘But you returned to practise in York?’ I asked.

‘Ay, I was never at ease in the south.’ He hesitated, then said, ‘I have a nephew at Gray’s I

‘No, I do not know him. But there are hundreds of barristers in London.’

Wre

‘Many seem to have died then.’

He shook his head. ‘York has had a terrible time these last five years. The rebellion in 1536, then in 1538 the plague. It returned in 1539 and again last year, though mercifully this year we have been spared.’ He smiled wryly. ‘Otherwise the King would not have come. His harbingers have been around the hospitals all summer, making sure there have been no cases. Instead this year we have had the new conspiracy. Troubled times.’

‘Well, let us hope for a better future now. And I would gladly take a message to your nephew in London, sir. If you wished.’

‘Thank you.’ Wre

I felt a catch at my throat, for his words made me think of my father; I too was the last of my line.

‘We have noticed, sir,’ Barak said, ‘that security in the city seems very great. We saw some Scotch turned away at Bootham Bar.’