We addressed ourselves to our simple meal. It was a couple of minutes before Robert spoke again.
‘Will you suffer a further word of advice?’
I nodded.
‘The fact that you have inherited a flourishing business makes you particularly vulnerable to rumour and innuendo.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
‘Simply this: younger freemen of your company look at you and see someone of their own age who has had success handed to him on a platter, while they have to wait for their fathers to die or work hard to establish their own business from nothing. That may well breed jealousy. Older freemen of your company look at you and see a junior craft member who has none of their experience but yet rivals them in wealth and prestige. That may breed resentment. Anyone who wishes you ill will not lack for associates.’
‘I see. What about you, Robert? When you look at me, what do you see?’
He scrutinised me keenly across the table. ‘I see a man who cannot yet see himself; who is sensitive to his shortcomings, which daily accuse him, but who has yet to discover all his strengths. Such a man should look into the mirror of Holy Scripture.’ He lowered his voice, although there was no one close enough to overhear our conversation. ‘Have you yet read Master Tyndale’s translation?’
‘I have sampled it,’ I replied mendaciously.
‘Look deeper,’ he urged with an earnest gleam in his eye. ‘It is God’s very own truth. I especially recommend the fifteenth of Saint Luke.’ After a pause, he continued in a normal voice. ‘Now we must consider how best to handle your examination.’
That Robert was a secret Bible lover disconcerted me, but I was too preoccupied with my own trouble to give it much thought.
‘What do you think the Council will do?’ I asked nervously.
‘You know that as well as I. It could be a fine or a spell in the Counter Prison. If they are really annoyed, they may suspend your freeman status for a while.’
‘Is there nothing I can do?’
‘There may be something I can do, though it will not be easy. Your Prime Warden is a friend of mine. We sit together on the Common Council of the City. I will have a word with him.’
I felt like a shipwrecked sailor who sights a floating spar.
‘You are very kind, Robert — more, perhaps, than I deserve. Anything you can do…’
He waved my thanks aside. ‘It is you who will have the more difficult task of convincing your seniors. Your immediate responsibility is to make sure you give no one any opportunity to blacken your name. Your conduct must be beyond reproach. Above all, avoid bad company.’ Again he fixed me with his penetrating gaze. ‘I think you know what I mean.’
I knew only too well. Robert was telling me to restrict my movements to the north side of the Thames. But this I could not do. I had to pay another visit to St Swithun’s House.
As the fog in my brain gradually lifted, I remembered the details of the hideous party: the drunken courtier’s insult of Lizzie, the ensuing fight, Lizzie dragging me away. Anxiety hovered in my mind like a menacing hawk. I was worried about Lizzie and needed to know that she was safe. But it was fear of the still unknown whose talons I felt most sharply. I saw myself standing over a man in a blue doublet, his face distorted with pain. In my hand was a dagger dripping with blood. I had to go back to Southwark to find an answer to the question that would not be silenced — was I a murderer?
Chapter 7
For my visit I chose Sunday morning, when many citizens would be at mass and the streets less crowded. The sound of the priory bells filled the air as I turned Dickon into the courtyard of the Sign of St Swithun. It was almost eerily quiet. When I had dismounted I had to knock on a couple of doors before I could rouse anyone.
Young Jed eventually peered out. He seemed genuinely startled to see me and hesitant when asked if I might come in. Hurriedly he closed the door behind me and stood to one side, barefoot and in his shirt, as though just out of bed.
‘I’m sorry if I’ve disturbed you,’ I mumbled.
‘What is it, Master Treviot? What do you want here?’
‘I’ve come to find out exactly what happened on my last visit. I know I got into a fight but after that my mind is a blank. Tell me, Jed, I have to know, did I kill someone?’
He seemed relieved at the explanation. ‘No, you passed out. Me and a couple of friends took you home. We was told you had to get back specially.’
‘Thank you so much.’ I leaned back against the door, my body sagging with relief.
The young man was now shuffling nervously from foot to foot. ‘We was happy to help, Master Treviot.’ He reached out his hand towards the latch.
‘So the other man is all right? Thank God.’
Jed was trying to pull the door open, obviously anxious to be rid of me.
‘Best you were not here, Master Treviot,’ he whispered.
‘Who’s there, Jed?’ I heard Ned’s voice as an inner door opened.
I turned and saw the ex-monk standing in the doorway, tucking his shirt inside his breeches. He, too, seemed disturbed to see me but quickly recovered his composure. ‘Ah, Master Thomas, how good of you to call. If you’ll excuse me for a moment…’ He went back into the inner room and reappeared moments later, fastening the points of his doublet. He extended a hand. ‘I hope you are more yourself now than when you left us last.’
‘I fear your hospitality overwhelmed me. I must have put Jed and others to a lot of trouble.’
‘It was a troubled evening.’ He paused, as though deciding whether to say more. ‘But come in. Come in. We’ve some violet cordial here that will slake your thirst and restore your spirits.’
I followed him into the room. It was a crowded chamber, obviously with many purposes. A wide bed stood in one corner. A large carved coffer beside it had an ecclesiastical look to it — salvaged from the monastery, perhaps. Three joined stools stood beside a table spread with books, bottles, jars and the other necessities of Ned’s apothecary activities. He poured intense pink liquid into pewter mugs and we seated ourselves by the table. Jed perched on the edge of the bed.
It was I who broke the awkward silence that followed. ‘As I told Jed, I came simply to find out what happened to the man I fought with. How badly was he injured?’
Ned waved a hand airily. ‘It was nothing. A flesh wound. You scarcely drew blood.’
‘That is welcome news, indeed. I’ve been worried. You spoke of a troubled evening — was there more violence later?’
The two men exchanged glances. Then Ned said, ‘It would probably be better for you not to be involved.’
‘You speak in riddles. If whatever happened concerns me in some way, then, of course, I should know.’
He sighed. ‘Very well. While you were in a stupor upstairs, your would-be assailant continued to make himself unpleasant. He was shouting all manner of threats and determined to come and find you. Jed and a couple of other burly lads got you out a back way and made sure you reached home. When she was sure you were safely off the premises, Lizzie came down and foolishly thought she could calm the troublemaker.’ He shook his head. ‘She has always been too headstrong, poor child.’
‘What happened?’ I almost shouted.
‘The fellow drew a knife. It was very sudden.’
‘You mean he stabbed her, killed her?’
‘No, no, no — nothing so dreadful. Although — ’
‘Ned, in Jesu’s name, tell me!’
‘He went for her face.’
The shock silenced me.
Ned continued. ‘I tended her immediately… in here. Wine to clean the wound, warm oil to ease the pain. Fortunately the cut was not deep; there was little bleeding. She bore it all very bravely — more concerned about how she would look than the possibility of some poisonous infection of the air. It is that that concerns me. I cannot tell if putrefaction has set in until I remove the bandages. I considered the possibility of suture… I have seen it done by a brother who spent some years as a military chirurgeon… but she feared the needle would cause more scarring and, of course, she was right. So I have drawn the flesh together as tight as I can and we must wait to see… we must wait to see.’ He drained his mug and fell silent.