He nodded. ‘I’m with you all the way. I’d prefer action to sitting around like a target.’ He extended a hand, and I took it. ‘Like last time,’ he said.
Chapter Twenty-one
SATURDAY DAWNED CHILL, a light rain falling through a grey mist that hid the St Mary’s steeple. I had tried to see Maleverer the night before, but was told he could not be disturbed. Barak and I rose early, both having slept very little, and went outside. I locked the door behind me; since the first attack on me at King’s Manor I had always locked myself into my cubicle.
A little way off the two bears lay asleep in their big iron cages. Today they would be set to fight with great mastiffs for the King’s entertainment. We made our way over to King’s Manor again. I noticed the trees were becoming bare; autumn was further on up here. Squirrels ran to and fro along the branches, blurs of red movement. I looked up at the walls where the soldiers patrolled with their guns and swords, the only people allowed to carry weapons in the royal precincts. The household officials had sharp eyes out for weapons, particularly given what had happened at St Mary’s. Barak and I had sat up late talking, and agreed I was probably safe from a sword-thrust. Our assailant, whoever he was, would be concerned not to be recognized by anyone. It looked as though someone in the darkness of the camp had seen us and followed at a distance, waiting for an opportunity to strike unseen and seizing it boldly when it came.
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you today?’ Barak asked.
‘No – after I’ve seen Maleverer I’ll walk over and see Wrenne, then come back to the lodging house. I’m safe enough in daylight if I keep to public areas. No, you have your day’s hunting.’
‘Thanks. One of the clerks is lending me a goshawk. ’Tis newly trained, only a few weeks since its eyes were sewn closed to tame it, but it will be better than nothing.’
‘Then take care.’
He walked off and I went across to the manor, a phalanx of soldiers now guarding the steps. I looked up at the windows of the upper rooms where the King slept. They were shuttered. I wondered if he had taken the Queen to his bed with him. I remembered the smell of his huge leg, and shuddered.
I gained admittance and was led again to Maleverer’s office. He was up already, working at his papers. He looked tired, there were dark rings under his fierce eyes. He was not afraid of hard work, I had to grant him that.
‘What now?’ he grunted, looking at me balefully. ‘I’m surprised at you showing your face again.’
‘I was attacked last night, Sir William. I thought you should know.’
That got his interest. He listened attentively as I told him what had happened. He frowned thoughtfully, then gave me a hard look.
‘Are you sure it was no accident? Servants can be cunning as cats. Perhaps the gallapin was never struck, only made it up to excuse carelessness with the spit. Did you think of that?’
‘His head was bloody. And that spit was pushed at me with more force than a child could command.’ I remembered the sharp tip, quivering in the air.
Maleverer was silent for a moment. When he spoke again it was in a quiet voice. ‘We thought whoever took the papers had fled. There are escaped conspirators among the fells, others in Scotland, and some in London too. That would have been the sensible thing to do. Yet no one has been reported as leaving the Progress unexpectedly. Perhaps they passed the papers on to an associate and came back here. To finish you off, as the only one who had seen inside that box. Or so at least they think.’ He frowned. ‘Perhaps they believe you have kept the knowledge to yourself and not told me.’
‘That is possible.’
‘I shall have to report this to the Privy Council.’
I hesitated. ‘I wondered whether it might be better for me to leave the Progress now, go back to London?’
He smiled coldly. ‘No. No, Master Shardlake. You can be our stalking horse. Perhaps you will lead our killer into the open.’
‘Perhaps he will kill me,’ I said.
Maleverer shrugged. ‘Then you must take care. This can be your penance for losing the papers in the first place. No, I forbid you to leave the Progress.’ And he smiled at me for a long moment, running a thick hairy finger along the edge of his beard, the yellow nail standing out against the black hairs.
‘As you command, Sir William.’ I kept my voice neutral, professional. ‘I plan to go to see Master Wrenne now. I gather he has been taken ill. Other arrangements may need to be made if he cannot attend the hearings on the petitions.’
Maleverer grunted. ‘I said he was too old for this. Send a message to me if he is unable to do it. We’ll have to find someone else. You can’t do it, we need someone with presence and a reputation up here.’ He smiled at me again.
I bowed and left. As I descended the staircase I thought, so, it is up to me to save myself. From now on I would wear a dagger at my belt, for all it was forbidden to carry weapons at King’s Manor.
AS I WALKED DOWN a misty Petergate towards the Minster I saw men in city livery raking the sand and ashes back into place on the roads; no doubt the King would be returning to the city for more ceremonies and entertainments. I looked at the little houses along Petergate and thought again of the rule preventing citizens from casting sewage in the streets or in the river while the Progress was here. It would be piling up in their backyards. It was symbolic of the King’s visit: all glitter and show in front, a pile of turds behind.
I gained entry to the Minster precinct and knocked at Master Wrenne’s door. The old housekeeper answered. Her face was drawn with anxiety. ‘Good morning, Madge,’ I said. ‘How is Master Wrenne? I heard he was ill.’
She sighed. ‘Maister can attend to no work today. He’s happed up in bed. His physician is with him.’
‘I came only to see how he was.’
She hesitated. ‘Come in then, maister. I will see if he can receive thee.’
She left me in the solar. The fire was unlit; the greyfalcon asleep on its perch, head tucked under its wing. It made me think of Barak, out hunting with Tamasin at his side. I had not wanted to stay at St Mary’s alone, I knew I would feel safe at Wrenne’s.
I looked around the stacked piles of books. It had occurred to me that if I could find a map of Kent somewhere I could confirm where Blaybourne village was. I did not know where that would get me but it was something and my determination to discover what was happening had grown. It was a counterweight to the shame and anger I felt over what had passed at Fulford Cross.
Madge returned and said Master Wrenne would see me. I followed her up to a small but well-appointed bedroom. Giles lay on a good feather bed. I was shocked at the change in him: his strong square face was white and it seemed to me some of the flesh had fallen away from it since yesterday. To my surprise, Dr Jibson was there talking to him. He smiled at my entrance.
‘Master Shardlake, good morning.’
Giles reached out a hand. ‘Dr Jibson tells me you are acquainted. He will not say how, professional discretion. But I hope you are not ill too?’
I took his hand, glad the old man’s voice at least seemed strong and clear as ever. His grip, too, remained firm. ‘No,’ I said. ‘But you…’
‘Oh, I had a bad moment, but I am recovering. I shall be ready for work on Monday. We have to hear the first petitions then, down at the castle.’
‘I will leave you now, sir,’ Dr Jibson said. ‘I will instruct your housekeeper how to make up that powder.’
The physician left. ‘Draw up a chair, Matthew,’ Giles said. I brought a stool to the bed. He looked at me seriously, then sighed. ‘What the King said yesterday must have caused you grievous hurt. And for me to have been made part of his evil jest gives me sorrow.’