‘And?’

‘He was quite unrepentant. When I gave him an English book of prayers to read he threw it across the cell. So I decided to bring him to his senses by hanging him from the ceiling by his wrists, his toes just touching the floor. I am told the Scotch have a variant where they hang you by your thumbs, but of course the thumbs are wrenched out after a while and I wanted this Brother Frederick to suffer a good while.’

I gave him a look of disgust, which perhaps was what he had been waiting for.

He smiled again. ‘That silenced the good old brother. It is hard to breathe in that position, as well as very painful. But I had not realized Brother Frederick had a weakness of the heart. Oh, I should have considered the possibility, I see that now; he was fat and had a high colour and wheezed when he was led up the stairs to the Lollards’ Tower. On the second day I found him hanging dead in his chains. The Archbishop was sore angry with me, I confess. He sent me on a visit to the Tower, where I learned from the experts how to judge how much a man may take.’

‘Cranmer did that?’

‘Yes.’ Radwinter inclined his head. ‘So now I have the skill to weigh a man’s condition.’

‘You are a vile creature,’ I said.

‘You feel sorry for that monk, crookback? Well, reflect that his death was easier than being drawn and quartered for treason. I did the churl a favour.’

I turned away, but he called me back.

‘I hear you have been talking to Broderick while I was away. About who has the right to the throne. You mentioned the Queen may be pregnant.’ I looked at him in surprise. ‘Oh, the soldier outside listened to your converse, as I ordered him to. You had strict orders not to question him.’

‘It was merely conversation,’ I said dismissively.

‘Was it?’ Radwinter looked at me. ‘Sometimes I wonder if you have some private agenda, Master Shardlake, whether your concern for the prisoner is more than soft stupid pity. If it is, beware.’

I THOUGHT ANXIOUSLY on Radwinter’s words as I ate with Barak in the refectory. It was full of people snatching a quick meal before making their preparations for leaving. There was much shouting and calling, a palpable air of relief that the Progress was on the move again, on its final leg before the return to London.

I went over what I had said to Broderick a few days before. Nothing incriminating or dangerous. I had been careful, although I had not thought Radwinter would go so far as to get one of the soldiers to eavesdrop on me. He had bribed the man, no doubt. I wondered whether to report it to Sergeant Leacon, but decided to leave it. I must not take any risks with Broderick again.

‘How long do you think it will be before we reach London?’ Barak asked.

‘Three or four days to Hull perhaps, then maybe a week on the boat. Much will depend on the weather while we are at sea. Quicker than riding back, anyway.’

‘There’s been no trouble for a week,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Do you think maybe whoever attacked you has given up?’

‘I hope so. I’m not relaxing my guard.’

He smiled. ‘Well, in a couple of weeks we may be safe, back working at Lincoln’s Inn. Back to the grind.’

My heart lifted. ‘You’re definitely coming back to work in Chambers?’

‘Looks like it.’

‘When we get to Hull I will try to secure a place for Giles on the boat, and Tamasin too. Someone might have to be bribed but between us Giles and I could manage that.’

‘Thank you,’ he said quietly.

I SLEPT UNEASILY, for the work of moving and loading went on through the night, with a constant shouting and rattling of carts. I rose at the first light of dawn and dressed, putting on my coat and donning my riding boots for the first time since we had arrived. Some of the clerks were awake already, standing round the fire while one tried to light it. I gave them a cold nod and went outside.

It was a cool, damp day, the sky covered with a canopy of high milky cloud. Barak was already up, standing in the doorway looking out at the courtyard. It had been stripped almost bare. The paddocks that had housed the animals were being dismantled.

‘St Mary’s last moment of glory over,’ he said. ‘I hear the King has ordered the last windows taken out of the church, and the roof taken off.’

I looked at the church, its spire lost in mist again, remembering poor Oldroyd.

After breakfasting we walked to the church to fetch the horses. The carpenters were at work dismantling the pavilions now. What a vast amount of money and labour had been wasted. Servants from the royal household were carefully wrapping up a huge tapestry, glinting with gold leaf, in a waterproof cover. It was forty feet long and it took four men to roll it up, with infinite care, soldiers standing guard around the precious thing. There was a tremendous bustle around the main doors of the church, which had been thrown wide open. People were leading their horses out and taking their places among the groups that were forming all around the yard. We went inside into a great crush as people jostled up and down the rows of stalls, peering round the high walls in search of their animals. Most had already been saddled. I saw Sergeant Leacon among the throng. ‘Are you riding today?’ I asked.

‘Ay, if I can get to my horse.’

I felt myself pushed roughly against a stall, and turned angrily. ‘Make way there. Queen’s household.’ Surrounded by a retinue of servants who shoved aside everyone in their path, a group of courtiers was leading their horses towards the doors. I recognized Francis Dereham. Seeing me, he gave an unpleasant smile. The courtiers passed, and Barak and I returned to the stalls.

‘Take care, sir, take care!’ A woman’s voice I recognized, calling sharply. I saw Jennet Marlin just ahead. A young courtier was trying to calm his horse, which was tossing its head and neighing, upset by the crowd. It threatened to flatten Mistress Marlin against a stall. Barak stepped forward. ‘Look out!’ he called. ‘There’s a woman there.’ He helped the man calm the horse, while I gave Mistress Marlin my arm and helped her away from the animal. She gave me a startled look.

‘You? Oh – thank you.’

‘Are you seeking your horse?’

‘Yes, she is down here somewhere.’

Barak and I helped her find the stall containing her animal, a grey palfrey, ready saddled.

‘Come with us,’ I said. ‘We’ll just find our own.’

She coloured. ‘No, I am all right now. Thank you. I am obliged.’ She took her horse by the reins and led it away.

‘Doesn’t like to be seen as a poor weak woman,’ Barak said.

‘She certainly has her pride.’ We made our way to the stalls where Sukey and Genesis stood, ready saddled like the others. We led them out, not without difficulty for both were nervous. Barak’s Sukey had always been temperamental but I was surprised how skittish my normally calm Genesis was. ‘What a mêlée,’ I said. ‘This hasn’t been well organized. Someone could be trampled.’

IT WAS A RELIEF to get out of the church again. Little groups of men had formed all round the churchyard now, some mounted, some standing holding their horses: the households of the various nobles and officials and, by the gates, the King’s and Queen’s households. There was, too, a clutch of lawyers and clerks, grouped around the white-bearded Sir James Fealty. I saw him glance at us and cross a couple of names off a list he carried.

Among the Queen’s household I saw Tamasin sitting on a grey palfrey, next to Jennet Marlin on her palfrey, still looking a little flustered. Nearby Lady Rochford was resplendent in a plum-coloured cloak and sitting on a big black mare, next to Sir Richard Rich on a big grey. Looking at the King’s household I was disconcerted to see Maleverer among the brightly dressed throng. Was he to accompany the Progress? It was not a thought that pleased me. I sensed someone else looking at me and glanced round just in time to see Thomas Culpeper turn his handsome head away.