‘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.’