They halted before us, and Maleverer put his hands on his hips.

‘Well?’ he barked. ‘I hear you’ve had trouble again.’

‘That man can never keep out of it,’ Rich added waspishly.

‘What happened?’

I nodded to where the servant was still pruning the roses by the house. ‘Someone got hold of a pruning from a rosebush and put it under my horse’s saddle.’ I raised the twig, which I was still holding.

Maleverer whistled. ‘God’s death, that’s bold.’

‘Not really. There was such a mêlée in the church, no one would notice who was in a particular stall. With their high sides someone could stand with their back to the open end and slip something under the saddle without being noticed.’ I thought, Dereham was in the stable. And Craike said he had been in there early. It could have been any one of hundreds.

‘Pox on it,’ Maleverer said. ‘This is a clever opportunist. So he has not given up, and we are no nearer finding him.’ He frowned, and I thought, yes, you are using me as bait.

‘Are you coming with the Progress, Sir William?’

‘I am coming all the way to London. I have business there.’ He smiled. ‘You are not rid of me yet.’ He looked at Genesis. ‘What about your horse?’

‘He won’t let anyone ride him today.’

‘We’d better find you another. Yours can be led behind. This will delay everything. The carts can’t start moving till the officials have taken their place at the head of the Progress.’ He glared at me as though I had sabotaged the arrangements on purpose. ‘Wait there.’ He strode off.

Rich smiled at me. ‘I hope nothing else happens to you, brother. What would they do without you at the Guildhall?’ He turned and followed Maleverer. Giles looked at me. He was pale, his brow furrowed with concern.

‘Someone has been trying to kill you?’ he asked, aghast.

I sighed. ‘For some time. This is their third attempt.’

‘But – but why?’

‘I do not know. It may be because they think I saw the papers in that damned casket we found at Oldroyd’s house.’

‘You think it is the thief?’ He looked shocked.

‘Yes. And the irony is, I saw hardly any of the papers. Not enough to understand their import. Giles, I am sorry, I have put you in danger too.’

‘No wonder you have looked so strained,’ he said. ‘I had no idea.’

A middle-aged soldier with an untidy brown beard appeared, leading a large grey horse. ‘My name is Temple-man,’ he said. ‘I’ve brought this horse for you, sir; I’ve been told to lead yours.’

‘Thank you.’ I suggested Wrenne take this animal while I mounted Sukey. The soldier took Genesis’ reins and followed us to the gate. I gave St Mary’s one last glance and rode out.

WE RODE SLOWLY through York, the King and Queen and their households in front, then the nobility, then the officials with us lawyers at the rear. Behind us rumbled the great train of carts. Lines of mounted soldiers rode two deep on either side of us. It felt strange to be part of the great concourse, like being washed along by a vast river. The Yorkers had got used to us – there were few faces at the windows today. Those that were there looked grimly pleased to see the Progress leave at last.

We took a road that headed east, travelling at little more than a walking pace, the sound of hooves all around and the rumble and creak of hundreds of carts behind. The countryside was flat and low-lying, with ponds and water meadows. A wind blew across the flatlands, ruffling the horses’ manes and tails and making the banners the soldiers carried wave and snap. Occasionally a man on horseback would ride along the grass verge between the road and the field, carrying messages between different sections of the Progress.

Towards noon the great train slowed as it crossed a humpbacked bridge across a fast-flowing river. ‘The Derwent,’ Giles said. ‘It is full after all the rains.’

‘So I see.’ I looked at him. He seemed to have rallied from his shock, there was colour in his cheeks again. We rode on through the afternoon, along roads commanding a wide view of the flat empty countryside. I studied the grey sky and the wide misty horizon, realizing only now how crowded and claustrophobic St Mary’s had been. The country was scantily populated, with only a few poor villages through which we rode without stopping. The inhabitants gathered in their doorways to watch us pass; mothers holding children tightly to them, faces expressionless.

Towards noon the order to halt for lunch was given. Everyone stopped but remained in their places while a procession of cooks brought baskets of bread and cold meat up from the rear. We were all hungry and glad of the food. As we sat eating I heard hooves approaching from behind. Jennet Marlin on her little grey horse drew to a halt beside us, followed by Tamasin on her palfrey. ‘There you are, sir,’ Tamasin said. ‘I rode back to see Jack.’

‘Where is he?’

‘A quarter of a mile back, in a cart full of waterproof coats. He says he feels a fool.’ She looked at me seriously. ‘Sir, please make sure he rests when we reach Howlme.’

‘I will, I promise.’

Just then the cry of ‘Fall to!’ sounded again; the King, it seemed, was indeed keen to move on. Tamasin and Mistress Marlin fell into place beside us.

‘I was shocked to hear what happened to you,’ Jennet Marlin said. ‘They are saying someone put that thorny branch under your horse’s saddle so it would throw you. Why would anyone do such a terrible thing?’

‘Someone thinks I know a secret, mistress.’

She turned in the saddle a moment and looked back over the great concourse. Then she turned back. ‘This concourse is full of evil. Cannot you return straight to London?’

‘No, I am not allowed.’

‘I am sorry,’ she said.

‘Make way! Make way!’ A messenger, riding forward with some message for one of the officials, came to a halt. Jennet Marlin pulled ahead to let him pass. Tamasin leaned in close to me. ‘What did it mean?’ she asked in a low voice. ‘Lady Rochford coming over to us like that when Jack fell?’

‘I do not know. She looked afraid.’

‘And I have to go among them tonight. I hoped our troubles might end when we left York.’

‘We must keep up our courage, Tamasin.’

Jennet Marlin looked over her shoulder. ‘We had best return to the household.’ She looked at me. ‘Take care, sir.’

‘Thank you.’ They rode away towards the front of the Progress. I turned to find Giles looking at me quizzically.

‘Who can be doing this to you?’

‘I do not know. It would be better if I said no more.’

We rode on in silence. The road was raised above the level of the fields now, we looked down on soggy water meadows. After a while these gave way to uncultivated marshland, brown and dreary and spotted with dark reedy pools. The gloomy surroundings seemed to affect the Progress, the buzz of conversation dying away.

‘A miserable setting,’ I observed to Wrenne.

‘Ay, Spalding Moor was ever a dreary and dangerous spot. But see ahead, our destination.’ He smiled, then lifted a hand and pointed. Far ahead I saw a hill that rose, unexpectedly high, out of the marshland, crowned with an ancient church and thick with trees, their leaves red and gold. A straggle of houses lined the steep sides.

‘There it is. Howlme.’

‘You know it?’

He smiled for the first time since we had left York. ‘Oh yes,’ he said. ‘I was born there.’

I HAD WONDERED IF the Progress would try to mount the steep hill; getting all those carts up there would have been a mighty job. But we halted at the bottom, where a large mansion stood in the midst of fields carved out of the marshland. Everyone dismounted and stood waiting. Four huge carts containing the King’s greyhounds in great cages rumbled past us, the animals barking and whining.