I heaved myself into the saddle. Barak had come to the door, that speculative look still on his face. I gave him a brief wave and rode off.
I decided to go to Lady Honor's house by the quieter route, via Smithfield and entering the City through the Cripplegate. It would give Genesis a chance to get used to me. I rode on steadily, half an eye always open for danger. I had brought the Greek Fire papers with me and they bumped against my side in the knapsack I had used yesterday to hit Wright. I shuddered again at the thought of his axe.
My thoughts turned to the Wentworths. What in God's name was going on in that family? I could not see any of the family engaged in what now seemed likely to be more than one murder. The old woman was harsh and ruthless, but her interest was only in her family and her blindness prevented her taking an active role in any devilry. The two girls too surely had no horizons beyond their family and a good marriage; if Sabine was engaged in some girlish fancy for the steward that was surely not so unusual. Both were classic Little Lady Favours, well-brought-up, well-mannered girls as content with their lot as cows in a field.
I turned my thoughts to Sir Edwin. He was a man consumed by fury and sorrow and it was hard to guess what he was like in normal circumstances. From all I had heard he seemed to be a typical rich merchant, concerned above all to build up his and his family's status. Needler, the steward, was a nasty piece of work but his main interest seemed to be keeping well in with the family. All normal, really. In fact the only members of the Wentworth household whose behaviour was abnormal were Elizabeth, whom I believed innocent, and Ralph himself.
We had reached Smithfield. I looked around the open space, St Bartholomew's Friary and the hospital still empty and guarded. By the market I saw men in City livery stacking temporary seats in tiers. Others were hammering bolts with chains attached into a long wooden pole. I remembered Vervey telling me there was another burning planned for the next week, a pair of Anabaptists who denied the sacraments and would hold all goods in common. I shuddered, praying they might repent and be spared this horror, and turned the horse towards the priory and Long Lane, where my route lay.
I noticed a little group of retainers in the red and gold Howard livery standing quietly holding their horses by the gatehouse. Then I saw the Duke of Norfolk himself was by the doorway, his scarlet robe a bright slash of colour against the grey stone. He was talking to another man, who stood in the gatehouse doorway with arms folded in a proprietorial gesture. To my surprise I recognized Sir Richard Rich.
They had already seen me and were staring across at me. The duke raised an arm. 'Hey, master lawyer! Over here!'
Hell, I thought, what now? I turned Genesis's head towards the group, praying the horse would continue to behave. I noticed there was a new doorman on the gate, and wondered what had happened to the fat fellow Barak had kicked out of the library. As I pulled up, Rich gave me a cold, angry look, though Norfolk for once looked amiable enough. I guessed Rich had been in the act of welcoming Norfolk to the priory when I turned up and I had a feeling they were not pleased at having been seen together. So febrile was the atmosphere lately that whenever two councillors were seen talking together away from Whitehall, rumours of plots were sparked. And indeed they were an unusual pair to be meeting out here, Cromwell's protégé and his greatest enemy. I dismounted and bowed to them.
'Master Shardlake.' Norfolk's lined face cracked into a thin smile. 'Lord Rich, this is a clever lawyer I met at a banquet of Lady Honor's the other night. Not one of your Augmentations brood, I think.'
'No, he's a Lincoln's Inn deviller, isn't that so, Brother Shardlake? Though he devils in some strange places – I found him wandering about in my garden a few days ago. You haven't come to steal my washing, have you?'
I laughed uneasily at the jest. 'I was passing only, on my way to Bishopsgate. I have a new horse, I wanted to avoid taking him through the City crowds.'
Norfolk turned to Rich. 'A colleague of Master Shardlake's was impertinent to me at Lincoln's Inn a few days ago, read me a lesson on the new religion.' His cold eyes glittered at me. 'But you tell me you're not a Bible puncher, don't you?'
'I follow the rules our king has laid down, your grace.'
Norfolk grunted. He turned to Genesis, looking the horse over with a professional eye. 'That's an ordinary-looking nag. But you can't take a horse of spirit to the City. And I suppose you might have difficulty with a hard ride,' he added brutally, with a glance at my back. He stretched his arms. 'God's wounds, Richard, I'll be glad when parliament rises and I can return to the country. Though you're another City urchin, aren't you?'
