I looked from the window, screwing my eyes up against the wind that whistled round the belltower. I saw again, in the fading light, the hundreds of men sitting before the tents, playing cards or watching cockfights. Campfires were lit, the wind blowing the smoke in all directions. A large group of workmen were digging fresh latrines near the ranks of carts. Craike came and joined me.

‘They are having problems with the sewage,’ he said. ‘You can imagine, with more than two thousand in the camp it becomes disgusting if they stay in one place more than a few days. There’s fields along the route so choked with filth they’ll not be able to use them for years. They’re worried about it all getting into the river, killing the fish. Filth will seep out, you see. It seeps out.’

I looked at his plump, bland face, then took a deep breath. ‘Master Craike, there is something I must discuss with you.’

‘Indeed. You sound serious, sir.’ He looked from me to Barak and laughed nervously.

‘It is serious.’

He went and sat back down on his stool.

‘You remember those papers?’ I asked. ‘That were stolen from me, in your old office?’

‘I am hardly likely to forget, sir.’

‘You know it was important.’

‘I know I was roughly searched by Maleverer’s men. He told me to say no more about the matter, and I have not.’

‘Barak saw you a few nights ago, going into an inn in York. To the White Hart.’

He looked at Barak and I caught a flicker of fear in his eyes.

‘What has that to do with the hunt for those wretched papers?’ There was a tremor in his voice.

‘We were there last night. And I learned the innkeeper there can arrange to provide – well, certain women…’

A shudder ran through Craike’s body then, and his face turned scarlet.

‘Is that why you went there?’

He did not reply, but buried his face in his hands.

‘Come,’ I said sharply. ‘Answer me.’

His voice was a shaky whisper. ‘I am ashamed. Ashamed to show you my face.’

‘I have no wish to shame you, Master Craike. Look at me.’

With a great sigh, he lifted his face to me. He looked suddenly old, his red face haggard, tears in the corners of his pale blue eyes.

‘That inn is a hateful place,’ he said. ‘But Jesu knows I have seen enough like it in London. Oh, I may seem like a fellow who has succeeded in life, I know.’ He laughed bitterly, then began talking rapidly, words tumbling over each other. ‘I have a wife, children, a good position, respect. But – but you do not know me, I am a bad unworthy man, a sinful man. The priests who taught me as a child knew that, they mocked me and – and hurt me. And I need to be hurt, ’tis only then I feel safe.’ He laughed then, with such hollow bitterness it made me shudder.

What he said should have disgusted me but I only felt sorry for him, caught as he was in some trap of the mind I could barely comprehend.

‘How did you find it?’ I asked. ‘Was it through the glazier Oldroyd?’

‘No. I sounded him out about the brothels in the town, said I was asking on behalf of the officials who would be coming, but he knew nothing. He was a respectable man. No, I asked others in the city and they led me to the White Hart.’

‘Well, if that is all,’ I said, ‘it is no business of mine.’

‘If that is all.’ He sighed again, as though he would wrench out his heart. His expression changed, seemed to shift from his private hell to the real world again. ‘It is not all. There is a house I frequent in Southwark. The madam there is a paid spy of Sir Richard Rich.’

‘Rich,’ I said slowly. ‘I know that Cromwell used such methods.’ I glanced again at Barak.

‘And when he was executed Rich took over his networks. Paid those in charge of certain houses to give him names. Oh, I was of no interest to Lord Cromwell, I was too lowly. But Rich is a different matter. You know my work, I allocate accommodation to courtiers in the King’s London palaces as I do here.’

‘Yes.’

‘And Sir Richard Rich hungers for property like no man in England. And if I certify to the Chamberlain that this or that London house that belonged to some monastery is unfit to accommodate courtiers, then it will be sold cheaply. And Richard Rich will be ready to snap it up.’

‘He is blackmailing you?’

‘If I do not cooperate with him he will tell my wife. She is a fierce woman, sir. She would leave me, tell the world of my sins and I would never see my children again.’ The tears began flowing down his cheeks. Then, suddenly, he brushed them aside and looked at me defiantly. ‘Well, that is the truth. Nothing to do with your stolen papers or the attack on you. If you tell, you will incur Sir Richard’s wrath, I warn you, and that is no light thing. And ruin me.’

‘Is he putting pressure on you now?’

‘Yes. Maleverer wants a London house. There is a property near Smithfield that is in royal ownership. He and Rich will share the difference between the price I set for the London house and its true value.’

‘I see,’ I said. ‘Maleverer is trying to get hold of land up here too, I think.’

‘I know nothing of that. I beg you, sir,’ Craike said. ‘Keep my secret.’

‘I will say nothing, Master Craike. None of this is any concern of mine.’

‘Truly?’ I saw hope rise in his face.

‘I swear. I would help you if I could. It seems to me Rich is the greater rogue in this.’

He sagged with relief. ‘Thank you. Thank you. And…’

‘Yes?’

‘You do not even mock me,’ he said wonderingly. ‘Most men would.’

I looked into Craike’s haggard face, and wondered at the strange darkness that lay behind it. But then darkness lies behind so many faces.

‘I know mockery too well,’ I answered.

I HAD TO VISIT BRODERICK before I went to my next task, which was to ponder on that royal family tree, and what the Titulus had said about Richard III’s being born in England. I felt buoyed by my successes at the castle, and by my conversation with Craike.

Sergeant Leacon was standing guard with one of his men outside Broderick’s cell. He nodded to us stiffly.

‘All well?’ I asked.

‘Ay. He’s just lain on his pallet all day. Won’t talk to the man I have posted with him.’

‘I have solved the mystery of how the poison reached him.’ I told the sergeant of my discovery at the castle. ‘I think Radwinter will be back soon.’

He shrugged. ‘I hoped we had seen the last of him.’

‘I fear not.’ I took a deep breath. ‘Sergeant, I have to thank you and your men. For shooting the bear last night. I fear if you had not arrived when you did, it would have had me.’

‘We were just doing our duty,’ he said stiffly. ‘Though I wondered if it was a ruse to distract me and free the prisoner; I wondered whether it was safe for us to lock Broderick up and go to the church.’

‘Thank Jesu you did. I shudder to think what might have happened had you not been so close.’

He nodded, but his look was still cold.

‘Sergeant,’ I said, ‘I have been thinking on your parents’ troubles. That it seems I helped land them in. It struck me: I made that arbitration without knowledge of any underleases or copyholds. Do your parents have any documents about their tenancy?’

He shook his head. ‘No. The manor court records were destroyed in a fire years ago. But they always thought they were tenants of the monks.’

‘I did not have that evidence before me. It might have made a difference, especially if any records could be found.’

‘My parents can barely read or write,’ he said awkwardly. ‘They rely on my uncle, and he is no great reader either. And they are not people who can afford a lawyer.’

‘How long before they have to be out?’

‘Six months. Spring quarter-day.’

‘Listen, sergeant, I feel some responsibility for this. When we get back to London, if you wish, I could try to help.’