‘That boy,’ I breathed. ‘Is he…’

‘Let’s see.’

The cook was crouched on the ground, the boy’s head in his lap. To my relief the small figure was moving.

‘Careful with him,’ Barak said. ‘Watch his head.’

The cook gave him an angry stare. ‘Do you think I don’t know that? He is my son!’

‘I am sorry.’ I bent down. ‘Where is he hurt?’

‘There’s blood on the back of his head,’ the cook said. I felt the lad’s skull carefully. ‘I think it’s just a scalp wound. Someone hit him on the back of the head.’

The boy groaned. ‘Father! I can’t see properly,’ he said. The boy was no more than twelve or so. I felt a sudden rage at the brute who had struck him down.

‘Hold him still,’ I said. ‘See if his vision settles down.’

The cook was looking at me. ‘This was meant to kill you, sir.’

‘I can see better now, Father.’ The boy tried to lift himself up, then groaned and leaned back. ‘I’m dizzy.’

‘Listen, fellow,’ I said. ‘Your lad has a concussion. Let him lie and rest, cover him with a blanket. If he is no better tomorrow, come to me and I will pay for a doctor. What is your name?’

‘Goodrich, sir.’

‘Ask for Master Shardlake, at the lawyers’ lodging house.’

‘All right.’ The cook looked fearfully at the spit, then at the darkness beyond. ‘What if he should come back?’

‘We’ll see to that,’ Barak said grimly. He ran back and lit a stick of wood from the fire. I followed him as he walked into the darkness, but we could see nothing, only the river flowing strongly and behind us the lights of the camp. Barak looked back.

‘He’ll have gone back to the camp. Shit.’

‘Ay,’ I said quietly. ‘Come on, let’s get back ourselves.’ We returned to where the cook still crouched by his son. I saw a group of men approaching, a cart laden with an ox carcass. I touched the cook’s arm. ‘Remember my name, Master Shardlake. Let me know how he does.’

‘This should be reported!’

‘I’ll deal with that. Don’t forget. Come and see me, at the lawyers’ lodgings.’

We walked away, back to the relative safety of the lit areas, and stood looking over the crowd. Some of the men who had finished eating were sitting around their tents playing music, the sound of shawms and bagpipes wafting through the air.

‘So,’ I said quietly. ‘I am in danger. I have been careless today, grumbling about on my own.’

‘Why haven’t they tried before this?’

‘Perhaps this was the first opportunity. Someone who saw us come into the camp.’

‘There must be hundreds here from King’s Manor. If Maleverer would tell you what those damned papers were, why they were so important, you might know where to start looking.’

‘He won’t do that. I’ll tell him what’s happened, but even if he cared enough he wouldn’t be able to protect me, not among these hundreds of people.’

‘He’s an arsehole.’

‘And he’s up to some corrupt business with Rich. No, I doubt I can look for aid from that quarter. Rich would probably be glad to have me out of the way.’

Barak whistled. ‘You don’t think…’

‘I don’t know. Except that whoever tried to kill me tonight is likely to try again.’

‘We could ask to go home. As you’re in danger.’

‘They seem to want me here. Besides, even if we did go back to London, what’s to stop whoever it is following us there? And there are supposed to be conspirators at the Inns of Court too.’ I looked out again over the milling crowds. It was not the first time in my life that I had walked in fear of an assassin, though never had I felt so helpless. I looked at Barak. ‘Thank you, Jack,’ I said quietly. ‘You saved my life there. You reacted quickly.’

‘I turned when I heard the metal grating, saw it moving. By Jesu, though, it was a matter of a split second.’

I was silent a moment, then took a deep breath. ‘I have resolved something. Now I know someone is after my life I am going to try and track them down. I have had enough, I will not allow myself to be beaten down into a mere hunted quarry. And other lives may be at risk too, since this enemy thinks nothing of knocking children on the head.’ I looked at him. ‘Perhaps yours too. Will you help me? I have no right to ask, I have been a boorish churl with you over the girl Tamasin.’

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.’