'Less than the earl has asked of me. Well? It was part of the bargain, Barak, that you'd help me with the Wentworths.'
'All right. I owe you a favour; I suppose I put you out of sorts with your friend.' I realized this was the nearest he would come to an apology.
Just then a wherry with a canopy pulled up at the wharf, depositing a pair of well-dressed Flemish merchants on the steps. Barak and I took their places and the boatman pulled away. It was pleasant to be out on the smooth brown water. I watched the stately swans bobbing by the banks. Shouts of laughter came from the tilt boats around us and the gulls cried overhead.
'You've got your case against Bealknap tomorrow, haven't you?' Barak asked.
'Don't remind me. I'll have to spend tonight preparing. But it will be a chance to quiz him again.'
'These serjeants, like Marchamount, what does their rank signify?'
'Only serjeants have the right to be heard in the Court of Common Pleas. There aren't many, they're appointed by the Crown and the other judges. The judges themselves are always appointed from the Serjeancy.'
'You ever been considered for it?'
I shrugged. 'These things are all decided by murmurings behind the scenes.'
I jumped at the sudden, piercing sound of a trumpet. The boats in the middle of the river rowed frantically out of the way as an enormous canopied barge painted in bright gold appeared, a dozen oarsmen in the king's livery making rapid sweeps through the water in time to the beating of a drum. Our little wherry bobbed wildly in the royal barge's wake as, like everyone else in the boats, we doffed our caps and bowed our heads. The king's canopy was drawn shut, protecting him from the sun. I wondered if Cromwell was in there with him, or perhaps Catherine Howard. The barge swept upriver to Whitehall.
The boatman spoke. 'They say if Queen Anne goes down there'll be more religious changes.'
'Perhaps,' I replied noncommittally.
'It's hard for common folk to keep track of it all.' He lowered his head to the oars.
THE WHERRY DROPPED US at St Mary Overy steps on the Southwark side. I followed Barak up to the wharf. Winchester Palace came into view as we mounted the slippery stairs. I paused a moment to catch my breath and looked at the facade of the forbidding Norman building, the glass in its enormous rose window glinting in the midday sun. The Bishop of Winchester owned most of Southwark, including the brothels; the palace was his London residence and the king was said to have dined there with Catherine Howard many times that spring. I wondered what plots against Cromwell had been hatched within its walls.
Barak made off along the side of the high palace wall towards the warren of poor houses that lay to the east. I followed.
'Have you visited Southwark before?' he asked me.
'No.' I had travelled the main road to Surrey many times but never ventured into the streets beyond, haunts of whores and criminals. Barak walked along confidently. He favoured me with one of his mocking grins.
'Ever been to a whorehouse?'
'Yes,' I said shortly. 'But a better class of one.'
'Ah, with gardens and shady nooks?'
'When I was a student and knew no better.'
'The Winchester geese can be shy birds if they think you're anything official. If we let out even a hint we're on any business other than trugging before we're well inside they'll fly off down the alleys faster than you could believe. You need to follow my lead here.' He looked at me seriously.
'Very well.'
'Take off your robe – it'll scare them. We'll pretend we're customers, all right? I'm your servant that's brought you over the river for a bit of fun. The madam will invite us to have a drink with the whores; if she offers you food, take it, no matter how much it costs. It's one way they make money if the whores are cheap, which these will be.'
I took off my robe and stuffed it in my satchel. It was a relief to be rid of it.
'When we're inside I'll ask for Bathsheba Green, say she's been recommended, then you get her alone and question her. I wouldn't get too familiar, though. These houses are famous for the French pox.'
'How do you know she's there?'
'I've contacts among the street urchins, I've paid them to watch a house for me before.' He smiled and lowered his voice. 'A member of the conservative faction, a most holy cleric, used to frequent one of the boy-houses down here. That information was very useful to my master.'
I shook my head. 'Is there nothing he won't do?'
'Not much. The lads know Bathsheba's working times – she'll be there this afternoon.'
