Sovereign

Chapter Twenty-nine

Barak and I sat in my cubicle at the lodging house. Between us on the bed was the piece of paper on which I had copied out again, from memory, the family tree I had found in the box. A lamp set precariously on the bed cast a dim yellow light over the royal names.

‘How can this lead us to who attacked you?’ Barak asked wearily.

‘The answer is always in the detail,’ I said, frowning at it. ‘Bear with me,’ I continued. ‘Now, the Titulus stressed that Richard III was born in England, which gave “more certain knowledge of your birth and filiation”. I have been thinking. I think they were saying between the lines that one of Richard’s brothers was a bastard.’

‘You said yourself the Titulus seemed to be scraping together everything, no matter how shaky, to justify Richard usurping the throne. Where is the evidence?’

I looked at him. ‘Perhaps in that jewel casket?’ I pointed at Cecily Neville’s name at the head of the tree. ‘If one of her children was a bastard that would explain Maleverer’s remark when the papers went missing. “Cecily Neville. It all goes back to her.” ’

Barak stroked his chin. ‘There are two sons beside Richard III.’

‘Yes. George Duke of Clarence who was the father of Margaret of Salisbury, who was executed this year, and Edward IV. The grandfather of the present king.’

‘If the Clarence line were being called into question, that would be useful for the King. He’d want to make it public.’

‘And the conspirators would not. They’d have destroyed any evidence, not kept it hidden and protected. So the allegation must have been aimed at Edward IV, the King’s grandfather. Whom it is said he much resembles.’

Barak looked at me with a horrified expression. ‘If Edward IV was not the son of the Duke of York –’

‘The one through whom the royal bloodline runs – in that case the King’s claim to the throne becomes very weak, far weaker than the Countess of Salisbury’s line. It rests on his father’s claim alone, Henry Tudor.’

‘Who had but little royal blood.’

I pointed to the tree. ‘If I am right, those names marked in bold represent a false line. They are all Edward IV’s descendants.’

‘So who is supposed to have fathered Edward IV?’

‘Jesu knows. Some noble or gentleman about the Yorkist court a hundred years ago.’ I raised my eyebrows. ‘Perhaps someone called Blaybourne.’

Barak whistled, then thought a moment. ‘I never heard of any family of note with that name.’

‘No. But many noble families went down in the Striving between the Roses.’

Barak lowered his voice, though the lodging house was quiet, the clerks all at dinner. ‘These are serious matters. Even to talk of doubting the King’s descent is treason.’

‘If there were evidence, and it were to be released at the same time as evidence about Catherine’s dalliance with Culpeper, that could truly rock the throne. It would turn the majesty of the King into a complete mockery.’ I laughed incredulously.

‘It’s no laughing matter.’ Barak was looking at me narrowly.

‘I know. Only – great Henry, nothing more than the descendant of a cuckoo in the royal nest. If I am right,’ I continued seriously, ‘the information the conspirators had was the most potent brew imaginable, challenging both the King’s own legitimacy and that of any children Catherine Howard may have. I imagine it was planned to reveal it when the rebellion got under way. Only it never did, the conspirators were betrayed before it could start.’

‘Betrayed? Don’t you mean discovered? The informer did the country a service.’

‘Discovered, then. And the papers were spirited away, hidden in Oldroyd’s bedroom.’ I looked at him. ‘Until the time was ripe to try again. Broderick told me once the King would fall soon. Perhaps he meant, when all this comes out.’

‘You think another rebellion is brewing? But York is sewn up tight. There’s never been such a well-guarded city.’

‘It’s quiet now, but when the Progress leaves the soldiers will go too. Then York will be left to the local constables, and who is to say where their sympathies lie? And the people here have hardly welcomed the King. Remember what Master Waters said about the Council of the North not being able to afford to have a city full of discontented traders. Cranmer himself admitted they hadn’t got to the bottom of the conspiracy. Many leaders escaped and the authorities are still after information from those locked up on suspicion, like Jennet Marlin’s fiancé.’

‘And Broderick. But it’s all supposition. Dangerous supposition too,’ Barak added.

‘Is it? It explains the wording of the Titulus Regulus, and the way that family tree is set out. And Maleverer’s remarks about Cecily Neville.’

‘It doesn’t help us towards guessing who is trying to kill you.’

‘No. But it shows why someone connected to the conspiracy would want me dead if they thought I had read what was in those papers. Perhaps they know my links to Cranmer and think I am waiting to get back to London and tell him the story, leaving Maleverer out of the picture.’ I got up, opened the lamp and set the scribbled family tree alight.

‘Is that necessary?’ Barak asked.

‘Oh, I think so.’ It burned quickly; I dropped the remains on the floor and stamped on them. I stood thinking a moment, then turned to Barak. ‘What would you do, if you were a member of the conspiracy who had escaped arrest? Perhaps hiding out in some refuge with that cache of papers?’

He considered. ‘I’d wait till the Progress and all the soldiers were safely back in London. Then I’d try and revive my networks in the north, being very careful about informers this time.’

‘And keep your networks in the south going too. At Gray’s Inn perhaps.’

‘Then I’d raise my standard when the time was ripe. And make any proof I had about Henry’s ancestry, and Queen Catherine, public. I’d probably wait till the spring. A winter campaign would be hard, with men to feed and clothe.’

‘That’s what I’d do too. And if Catherine Howard was pregnant by then, so much the better when her dalliance with Culpeper was exposed.’

‘What about all the oaths the local gentlemen have taken to the King? If there was evidence the King was not the true King, would those oaths still be valid?’

‘No. No, that would overturn everything.’

Barak shook his head. ‘So Maleverer could end with his head above the gates of York?’

‘Possibly.’ I sat down again. ‘And part of me thinks, would that not be a sort of justice, seeing how sore oppressed the people are here?’

Barak frowned. ‘Those conspirators would have the Pope back, and they’d have allied with a foreign power. The Scotch, and where you find the Scotch, the French are never far behind.’

‘A sea of blood could be spilled,’ I said.

Barak scratched his head. ‘Do you think…’

‘What?’

‘That the King knows the Blaybourne story? Knows he may not be the legitimate heir. He must do. Maleverer took the name to the Duke of Suffolk, and that was when the hue and cry started. If the Duke knows, the King knows.’

‘So he knows he may not be the true King, but carries on anyway?’

‘Wouldn’t you?’

‘I suppose I would,’ I answered. ‘But he doesn’t know about Catherine and Culpeper. He can’t. And I am not going to Maleverer with the story. If he got wind I’d worked out what the Titulus meant, our lives might be worth little.’

‘Dead men tell no tales, eh?’

‘I wouldn’t put it past him. The King can’t stay here for ever. And we have passage booked on a fast boat from Hull.’

‘You should tell Cranmer when we get back,’ he said.

‘We’ll see.’

‘Tamasin will have to return with the Progress. That could take weeks. She doesn’t show it but she is frightened after Lady Rochford’s interrogation.’ He looked at me and in that moment I saw how much she had come to mean to him. ‘Is there any chance you could get her a place on the boat?’

‘That may be difficult. There is no official reason for her to return early.’

‘We could make up some story about a sick relative.’

‘I’ll do what I can,’ I said. ‘But let’s wait till we get to Hull.’

‘Thank you.’ Barak looked relieved. ‘Why is the King going back to Hull, anyway? He’s already been there once.’

‘He has plans for strengthening the town’s defences.’

‘It’s a long way to drag the Progress.’

‘He’s the King. He can do what he likes. And I must get Giles a place on the boat too. I feel a responsibility for that old man. It is as though he had taken the place of my father.’

‘Poor old devil. You wouldn’t think he was so ill to look at him. And he was sharp enough at the hearing today.’

‘Yes, he was. But Dr Jibson says there is no hope for him,’ I answered heavily.

‘You didn’t agree with him about turning away that woodsman’s claim?’

‘No. But he knows the political realities up here.’

‘Will we be able to finish with the petitioners tomorrow afternoon?’

‘Ay. Then our work will be done.’

‘Perhaps we could go to town in the morning. Get a break from this place.’ He reddened. ‘Tamasin said she and Mistress Marlin are going shopping tomorrow. For some sewing materials to repair the Queen’s linen. I said I might be at St Helen’s Square around ten thirty. I haven’t seen her today. But I’m supposed to stay with you.’

‘I’ll have to come too then. Be your chaperone. It’s all right. I could do with getting out of here too.’

NEXT MORNING DAWNED fine and sunny, but with a chill wind. The King, they said, had gone hunting again. We set off into the city. It was market day and York was busy; we passed officials from St Mary’s arguing with some merchants, evidently buying up more stores.

Tamasin had told Barak she and Mistress Marlin would be visiting a shop in Coneygate that sold fine fabrics. We arrived in St Helen’s Square shortly after ten. I glanced down Stonegate towards Oldroyd’s house, remembering the day the glaziers had surrounded us there. We might have come to grief if Master Wrenne had not happened along then. On the other side of the square people were going in and out of the Guildhall.

Barak nodded at St Helen’s church on the corner. Where the churchyard faced the street, a bench had been set under a tree.

‘Let’s sit there for a bit,’ I said.

‘You’ve taken a fondness for sitting under trees.’

‘Your back is safe against the bark,’ I said quietly. ‘And you can see who’s coming.’

‘They have to pass this way to return to St Mary’s,’ Barak said. ‘It’ll look as if we’ve just stopped for a rest.’

We entered the churchyard and sat on the bench. The graves were covered with fallen leaves, red and yellow and gold. It was a restful spot.

Barak nudged me. ‘There’s the Recorder waving at us,’ he said.

I looked up. Recorder Tankerd had come out of the Guildhall. Seeing him reminded me of Fulford. I waved back and he came over to us.

‘Taking a rest, sir?’ he asked. His look at me was curious, appraising. Perhaps he wanted to report back to his colleagues about how I looked after being mocked by the King. Well, no doubt I looked tired and strained, though there were other reasons for that.

‘Ay. We have a morning’s leisure before tackling the rest of the petitions this afternoon.’

‘Have the hearings gone smoothly?’

‘Very well. Brother Wrenne knows what he is doing.’

‘No lawyer in York is more respected. But he is taking on no new work, I hear. Perhaps he is retiring at last.’

‘He is ripe in years,’ I answered evasively.

‘And has begun to look his age recently.’

I did not reply, and Tankerd smiled uncertainly. ‘Well, I must be off. The council has been asked to press the Ainsty farms to deliver all their produce to St Mary’s, even the seed corn. But they are offering a good price. It looks like it may be a while before the Scotch King comes. Well, good day.’ He paused a moment, then said quietly, ‘What the King said to you was shameful, sir. I am not the only one who thinks so.’

I looked up in surprise. ‘Thank you.’ I paused. ‘They do not all laugh, then, at the Guildhall?’

‘By no means, sir. It was a cruel jest, it has not improved the King’s reputation.’

‘Thank you, Brother Tankerd. That is good to know.’

He bowed and left us. I sat watching him go.

Barak nudged me. ‘Here they come.’ I looked up to where Mistress Marlin and Tamasin were walking slowly up the street. Behind them an armed servant carried a large box, full of sewing materials no doubt.

‘Good morning!’ I called.

The sun was behind us, and Jennet Marlin squinted frowningly for a moment before recognizing us. She hesitated.

‘May we rest here a moment, mistress?’ Tamasin asked sweetly. ‘I have been standing all morning, I would be glad to sit down.’ She certainly had skills in diplomacy.

Mistress Marlin looked at us, perhaps guessing this meeting was no accident. She hesitated, then nodded. ‘Yes. Let us rest a few minutes.’

I stood up and bowed her to sit there.

‘There is not room for all of us,’ Tamasin said. ‘Come, Master Barak, let us sit under that tree. I will show you the fine stuff we have bought.’

‘Eh? Oh, yes.’ Barak followed Tamasin as she led the way to a secluded spot under an oak. I was left with Jennet Marlin. The servant went and sat down on the grass at a respectful distance. I smiled at her uncertainly. ‘Well, Mistress Marlin. How do you fare?’ She looked tired and preoccupied, her large eyes unhappy. Untidy brown curls had escaped from her hood and she brushed them from her forehead. ‘Have you any news from London?’

‘No. And still no word of when we may leave this wretched city.’

‘The Recorder says they are buying up still more provisions.’

‘The men will be getting restless in camp, breaking out at night as they did at Pontefract.’ She sighed deeply. ‘By our Lady, I wish I had never been persuaded to come on this enterprise.’ She looked at me seriously. ‘Bernard, my fiancé, was supposed to accompany us.’ She hesitated. ‘In fact, he was to have the job you have now. Working on the petitions.’

‘Ah. I did not know.’

‘First Bernard was arrested, then his first replacement died. Yours is an unlucky post.’

No wonder she had been so hostile at first. She seemed to have accepted me now, though, even to see me as a confidant. That pleased me; in an odd way it was as though little Suzanne and I had made friends again. I thought, I must stop seeing people as substitutes. Mistress Marlin for Suzanne, Giles Wrenne for my father.

‘It was one of his friends persuaded me to come away,’ she said. ‘Another lawyer of Lincoln’s Inn. When Bernard was taken to the Tower in April I visited him every day. But his friends said I might attract suspicion to myself, it might be better if I came away on the Progress. And Lady Rochford was very insistent. She is used to me dealing with her clothes for her.’

‘I can see it must have been hard leaving London.’

‘If there are any developments, I have leave to return to London. But nothing has happened for almost three months. Forgive me, sir,’ she said suddenly, ‘I must bore you with my talk.’

‘No, no. I sympathize, madam.’ I looked at her. ‘How does your fiancé fare in the Tower? His friends will visit him?’

She twisted at her engagement ring. ‘Yes, they bring him food and clothes, and he has a cell that is less miserable than most, above ground. We had to pay the gaolers well for that,’ she added bitterly.

‘I can imagine.’

‘And yet I fear for his health in there. Winter draws near.’

‘Perhaps he will be freed ere winter.’

She only sighed.

‘His friends,’ I asked. ‘They are all from Gray’s Inn?’

She looked at me sharply then. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘I wondered if he might know the nephew of a friend of mine. Another Gray’s Inn lawyer from the north.’ I told her of Giles’s determination to find his nephew, my offer to help.

She considered. ‘’Tis true the northern lawyers at Gray’s Inn tend to stick together. Most of them are traditionalists in religion.’

‘I believe this man is. Martin Dakin.’

‘I do not know the name.’

‘Have any other Gray’s Inn lawyers been arrested? There was suspicion of them in 1536.’

‘Not that I know of.’

‘That is reassuring. Thank you. What chambers did your fiancé practise in at Lincoln’s Inn?’

‘Not did, sir, does. He will be free. The name of his chambers is Garden Court.’

‘I am sorry. Thank you.’

She was silent a moment, then turned those large sorrowful eyes on me again. ‘Do you know what my Bernard is accused of?’

‘No, mistress.’

Her look was penetrating. ‘I thought you might have heard, since it is common gossip.’

‘No.’

‘Of knowing two Yorkshire gentlemen who were part of the conspiracy. But they were both old friends, of course he knew them.’

‘Did they say he was involved?’

‘No, though they were tortured. They are dead now, their remains were on the Fulford Gate till it was cleaned up for the King.’ She clenched her hands into tight little fists in her lap.

‘Then there is no evidence.’

She looked at me. ‘There was a letter that one of them sent to Bernard at Gray’s Inn, at the end of last year. They say it speaks of better times coming this year. But Bernard told me it meant only hope for a better harvest after last year’s drought.’

‘If that is all, it seems paltry.’

‘It takes little to condemn a man these days. Especially if he is fond of the old ways in religion. Oh, he is no papist, far from it, and I believe I was persuading him of the truth of Bible religion – so far as any woman can influence a man. But he was known as a traditionalist and that is enough to condemn him. If poison is whispered in the right ears.’ She looked at me, her eyes sharp and focused now.

‘Whose ears?’ I sensed she had wanted me to ask.

‘Bernard bought the land of a small dissolved abbey up here,’ she said. ‘It was next to his family lands.’ Her mouth set tight and hard again. ‘But a certain other family, whose lands it abuts on the other side, wanted it for themselves. It would suit their purposes if he were attainted for treason. So that his lands would go to the King, and could be bought cheap.’ She paused. ‘The family’s name is Maleverer.’

I remembered the look of hatred she had cast at him at King’s Manor when Tamasin was brought in for questioning.

‘By heaven,’ she said. ‘He is hungry for land.’

‘I know he is bidding for some of Robert Aske’s estates and – and I believe he also seeks a property in London.’

‘It is because he is a bastard.’ Jennet Marlin almost spat the word. ‘He believes if he can get enough land he can outrun it.’ She looked at me. ‘People will do any evil thing for money these days, there was never so much greed in the land.’

‘There I agree with you, mistress.’

‘But Maleverer will not win.’ She clenched her fists more tightly. ‘Bernard and I are destined to be together. It is meant.’ She spoke quietly. ‘People laugh at me, say I am determined to marry before I am too old –’

‘Mistress,’ I murmured, embarrassed at her frankness, but she continued.

‘They do not understand what there is between Bernard and me. He was my childhood friend. My parents died when I was small and I was brought up in his household. He was three years older, he was father and brother to me.’ She was silent a moment, then looked at me again. ‘Tell me, sir, do you believe two people can be destined to be together, that God may set their path before they are born?’

I shifted uncomfortably. Her words sounded as though they came from some flowery poem of courtly love. ‘I am not sure I do, mistress,’ I answered. ‘People fall in and out of love, or do not speak until it is too late. As I did once, to my sorrow.’

She looked at me, then shook her head. ‘You do not understand. Even when Bernard married another, I knew that was not the end. And then his wife died, and he proposed to me. So you see, it is as it was meant.’ She stared at me with a sudden fierceness that was unnerving. ‘I would do anything for him. Anything.’

‘I am sorry for your trouble,’ I said quietly.

She stood abruptly. ‘We should be going on.’ She looked over to where Tamasin was showing a bored-looking Barak some richly dyed cloth. ‘Tamasin,’ she called. ‘We should be on our way.’

Tamasin packed up the cloth, brushed some fallen leaves from her dress and walked across to us, Barak following. Mistress Marlin curtsied to me. ‘Good morning, sir.’ The women turned and walked out of the churchyard, the servant following. Barak shook his head.

‘By Jesu, Tammy can be a tease. She made me look at those damned cloths, told me all about what they were. She knew it bored me, but I was a captive audience.’

‘She’ll domesticate you if you’re not careful.’

‘Never,’ Barak said; emphatically, but with a smile. ‘Sorry to leave you with Mistress Marlin.’

‘Oh, it seems we are becoming friends.’

‘Rather you than me.’

‘She told me more about her fiancé. And I learned more about our good Sir William.’ I told him what she had said about Maleverer and about Bernard Locke. ‘Mistress Marlin seems to have given her whole life over to that man. Her heart and her soul.’

‘Is that not a creditable thing in a woman?’

‘What if something should happen to him? She would be quite undone.’

‘Maybe you could step into his shoes,’ Barak said with a grin.

I laughed. ‘I do not think anyone could do that. Besides, Mistress Marlin’s intensity would be hard to live with.’ I looked down the road the women had followed. ‘For her sake I hope they find nothing against Master Locke.’