‘It’s all right, wench, I’ve hurt my leg, that’s all.’
‘I heard you cry out, I thought someone -’
‘No, ’twas just an accident.’ He looked round at the crowd with embarrassment. Sir James Fealty appeared, frowning angrily.
‘What in Jesu’s name is going on here?’ he demanded angrily. ‘Get up, woman!’ he snapped at Tamasin. ‘This is unseemly!’
‘My clerk has hurt his leg!’ I said with asperity.
‘Yes.’ Wrenne got shakily to his feet. ‘He saved my life,’ he added.
I was aware the crowd had suddenly gone quiet, and looking up I saw Lady Rochford standing above us. There was something frightened in her expression.
‘What has happened?’ she asked.
Wrenne bowed to her. ‘An accident, my lady. This man has broken his leg.’
She looked at Barak, then at Tamasin and me. ‘Nothing worse?’
‘No, my lady,’ I said.
She stalked away, the crowd parting to let her through. ‘Come, Tamasin,’ I said quietly, lifting her to her feet. ‘You should go too. I will see Jack is safe.’
She gulped and nodded, then looked at Genesis, still straining against the men who held him. ‘Why did the horse buck like that?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘It is as though he were trying to get rid of the saddle.’ She caught her breath. ‘Look, sir, there is blood!’ My eyes widened as I saw a thin trickle of blood running from underneath the saddle, staining the horse’s flank.
‘Tamasin,’ I said quietly. ‘Help me get this off. Be careful, or he’ll buck again.’
Watched by the curious group of lawyers, we lifted off the saddle. My eyes widened with horror. Underneath was a little thorny piece of branch from a rosebush, the thorns embedded now in my poor horse’s flesh.
‘It was put here so the horse would rear when someone sat on it,’ I breathed. ‘This was another attempt to kill me.’
Chapter Thirty-two
ALL THE LAWYERS HAD seen us find the branch under Genesis’ saddle, and word went round the courtyard like wildfire. I waited with Barak until a doctor from the royal household appeared and examined him. His ankle was not broken, I was relieved to hear, but he had damaged his ligaments. The doctor bandaged up his foot and warned he would be unable to walk properly for some time. A crutch was improvised from the branch of a tree and a servant was sent for, to help him to one of the carts which were waiting in line at the camp. He would have to travel to Howlme in it. The King and Queen had already ridden out, and the vast train of courtiers and officials was starting to move, one group after another riding under the gate of St Mary’s.
‘Damn this,’ Barak said as the servant offered his arm. ‘I hate being laid up.’
‘You must rest your foot,’ Giles said. ‘I want to see you fit again soon. Thank you once more.’
‘I am glad I saved you, sir.’ Barak looked round the emptying courtyard at the horsemen riding out, the men on ladders removing the roofs from the pavilions, the big silent church. ‘I’ll not be sorry to leave here.’ He hopped away with the servant. As he did so I saw a large figure walking towards us. Maleverer. Beside him was Sir Richard Rich, resplendent in a black robe edged thickly with fur.
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.’