Wrenne nodded at the side-chapel. ‘That is the Constable chapel.’
‘Sir Robert Constable’s family?’
‘Yes. They have been landowners here for centuries. A chantry priest still says a daily Mass for their souls. The priest of the church when I was a lad was a Constable.’
‘Were they good landlords?’
‘No. They were hard, grasping men, Robert Constable as much as any of them. Yet he died for his beliefs in the end.’
As I told Sergeant Leacon that Broderick would, I thought. ‘I hear his bones still hang over the gates of Hull.’
‘Yes. We shall see them.’ He thought a moment. ‘I sold the farm to the Constables after my father died. It made no sense to keep a farm so many miles from where I lived. No more than it makes sense for you. You should not feel guilty at selling your father’s farm, Matthew.’
‘No, you are right.’
He looked at me and shook his head. ‘You have had much to bear. First your father, now these attacks on you. There have been others, you said?’
I took a deep breath. ‘Three counting the thorn under Genesis’ saddle. Not counting the time when I was struck down and those damned papers stolen. A week ago someone tried to ram a spit through me at the camp.’
His eyes widened. ‘Jesu.’
‘And then a bear was let loose in my path.’
‘Dear God.’
‘I fear the person who is after me may think I learned more than I did from the papers inside that box. I only had time to glance at a few of them.’ I paused. ‘One of them was the Titulus.’
‘Ah.’
‘That was how I knew it was dangerous for you to have a copy.’
‘I understand now. What others did you see?’ he asked curiously. ‘When he questioned me, Maleverer said you had had no time to look.’
‘Nothing of note.’
‘Maleverer must have been angry with you for that.’
‘He and the Privy Council.’
‘How have you borne it all?’ he asked gently. ‘That and what happened at Fulford as well?’
‘One bears things because there is no alternative.’ I looked at him. ‘As you have cause to know, better than anyone.’
‘Ay.’ He nodded his head slowly. ‘Ay. The Lord lays heavy burdens on us. Heavier than a man should have to bear, I think in dark moments.’
I shifted in the narrow pew, my neck was becoming uncomfortable again. ‘I think we should go back now. It will be getting dark.’
‘Allow me a few minutes more,’ he said. ‘I would like to say a prayer.’
‘Of course. I will wait for you by the beacon.’
I LEFT THE CHURCH. Outside the sun was below the horizon now, the churchyard dim. I walked through the gate. I looked out over the camp: torches and bonfires were alight across the fields, all the windows of the manor house were brightly lit. The King and Queen would be there now; Master Craike would have made sure all was ready for their comfort.
Giles was taking a long time at his prayers. I fingered the thick ropes holding the beacon upright, tied tightly to the top of an iron pole that protruded from the centre of the huge bonfire and secured to stakes in the ground at the bottom.
I was conscious of pressure on my bladder. I looked round the churchyard and the trees that bordered the open space to make sure no one was there. I unlaced my hose and sighed with relief as I let out a jet of piss against the beacon. I finished and laced myself up again. I turned, then stood stock still, rigid with shock. Jennet Marlin stood ten feet from me. She wore a dark coat with a hood and her mouth was set in its grimmest expression. She was holding a crossbow, and it was aimed at my heart.
I stared at her, my mouth open. She shifted the weight of the crossbow slightly on her shoulder. I flinched, waiting for the bolt to thud into me. But though her hand was on the trigger she did not fire.
‘This time I have you,’ she said, her voice sharp as a file.
I glanced over her shoulder at the church, a black shape against the evening sky, the light from the chapel outlining the windows in a dim red glow. She gave a rictus of a smile and shook her head. ‘Do not look for help from the old man,’ she said.
‘What – what have you done to him?’
She looked at me with those large eyes. They were afire with gloating anger.
‘I have secured the church door with a spar of wood through the handles. He is trapped, that is all. I do not take life unless it is necessary.’
‘And mine?’ I asked. ‘Is it necessary to take mine?’
She did not answer. I saw the crossbow tremble in her arms a moment. She was at a great pitch of tension. I prayed her hand did not slip -
I knew I had to keep her talking as long as I could, keep her from pressing that trigger. ‘It was you who tried to spit me at the camp? You who let the bear loose and put that thorn under my horse’s saddle?’
‘Yes. Seeing you in the camp that first time was a lucky chance – I was walking down by the river.’ There was hatred in her look now. Why? What did she think I had done? ‘As for the bear, I knew from Tamasin that you had gone into York and I waited by the outbuildings for your return. I thought there would be a chance in the dark. You came back and when you walked through the church I ran along the side and got behind the bear’s cage. Oh, I have watched you for the last two weeks,’ she added with intensity. ‘From the windows of the manor, from the camp, from hidden places in the courtyard. When I saw you from the camp tonight, walking up the hill, I knew this was my best opportunity.’
‘You got that crossbow from the overturned cart.’
‘Yes.’ She seemed steadier now, eyeing me along the length of the weapon.
‘I thought someone was watching from the woods.’ Keep her talking, I thought, keep her talking. ‘You killed Oldroyd?’ I asked her.
‘Yes. Oldroyd had to die. He had that damned casket. He would not give it up to me even though I told him I came from Bernard.’
‘You are on a mission from your fiancé? So Bernard Locke was a conspirator?’
‘Yes, he was.’
‘But I thought you were a reformer?’
‘I am. Bernard regrets what he did. He wanted the contents of that box destroyed – they could endanger the throne, he told me. He has repented. Like me, he would save the King from treasonous conspiracies.’
I wondered whether Bernard Locke had truly repented. No, I thought – he has used this besotted woman as his catspaw.
Behind her, I saw a movement, a big dim shape edging towards her. It was Giles. He had got out of the church somehow and was approaching Jennet Marlin slowly, his stick raised in both hands, his expression intent as he tried to get closer to her without making a sound. I forced my eyes back to Jennet Marlin.
‘Bernard told me the papers were in the possession of Master Oldroyd of York, kept in a secret place at his house. He told me I would have to kill the glazier and take his keys from his body to get hold of them. He would never give them up.’
‘You toppled that defenceless man off his ladder, in cold blood.’
‘I had no choice.’ Her steely voice did not waver. ‘And was he not a conspirator, deserving of a traitor’s death? If it was not for his horse bolting when he fell, I would have had the keys to his house from his body, but that sounded the alarm.’
‘You heard us coming and hid in the church?’
‘Yes, you and that lout Barak nearly had me there. It was as well I had taken care to find keys. But then before I could get to Oldroyd’s house, you appeared with that box. A jewel casket, just as Bernard had described to me.’
‘And so you made friends with me, planning all the time to kill me. Because you thought I knew the contents of that box?’
Giles was right behind her now. He had lifted his stick high above her head with both arms but he hesitated – he must fear that if he struck her she would loose the bolt from the crossbow as she fell.
‘Yes, to see what I could find out. As you pretended to be my friend, laughing in your sleeve all the time because you knew that some of those papers incriminated Bernard. It was harder to be civil than to try to kill you. Every time I saw your crooked form I wanted to be sick -’