WE WERE TRAVELLING DOWN a long stretch of road. I was still on the horse I had been given yesterday, for Genesis’ cuts were not healed sufficiently for me to ride him. He was at the back of the Progress, with the spare horses. Alongside me, Barak sat wearily in Sukey’s saddle; he had insisted on riding today, despite his leg. Giles was not with us; he had wakened feeling ill and weak, his face grey. I suspected he was in pain and had begged a place for him to travel in one of the carts. I too was feeling the effects of the previous night. Although I was thickly swathed in my coat, I felt cold.
We had an even longer ride today: to Leconfield Castle, five miles north of Hull. The country beyond Howlme was less flat, with low round hills capped with trees whose leaves glowed red and yellow this bright, cold autumn morning. It made a pretty picture. Away to the east I could see a line of hills I heard someone call the Yorkshire Wolds. All around us the Progress thundered and clattered. Behind, the procession of carts disappeared out of sight beyond a bend in the road. Ahead, the feathers in the caps of the officials bobbed up and down, while on either side the soldiers in their bright uniforms rode, with harnesses jangling, and the messengers ran up and down the verges.
The picture of Jennet Marlin with her head staved in kept coming into my mind. I guessed Giles’s state of health this morning was at least partly a reaction to what he had had to do. I recalled his shocked expression and his words, ‘I have never killed another person.’
‘Penny for ’em,’ Barak said.
‘I was thinking of last night. Mistress Marlin lying dead on that hill.’
‘I saw Tammy this morning, before we set off. She said Lady Rochford had looked terrified when Maleverer came to question her. He questioned Tammy too, but there was nothing she could tell him.’ He glanced at me. ‘She was sore upset to learn the truth about Mistress Marlin. She was in tears when I saw her.’
‘Upset that her mistress was a murderess?’
‘And that she was dead.’
‘Lady Rochford must have been scared the Queen’s foolery had been discovered.’
‘Ay. But none of the ladies knew anything. Mistress Marlin had no friends apart from Tamasin. She used to go off for walks on her own sometimes, but no one knew where she went.’
‘To spy on me,’ I said.
Barak lowered his voice. ‘You were right all along not to tell Maleverer about Culpeper. Cheer up, you are safe. It’s over. And you can stop worrying about that family tree, and who Blaybourne was.’ He grinned. ‘Stop moithering, as the Yorkers say.’
‘I wonder,’ I said quietly.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Jennet Marlin never actually admitted to taking the papers.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Surely she of all people would have made sure I was dead when I was struck down and the papers stolen at King’s Manor.’
‘You mean she had a confederate?’
I shook my head. ‘No, she worked alone on her mission.’
‘Then who else can have taken them?’ Barak sounded exasperated.
‘I don’t know. But why did she not kill me at once when she had the chance last night? She could have shot me in the back as I stood there pissing against that beacon. But she made me stand there.’ I shuddered. ‘I think if she had had the time she might have asked me if I knew where the papers were.’
‘You can’t know that.’
‘No. But if she thought I had them it would explain why she was so sure I had seen the papers incriminating Bernard Locke.’
‘But she didn’t try to question you before. The bitch just tried to kill you.’
‘She didn’t have the opportunity before. If one of her earlier attempts had succeeded she might have somehow found the chance to go through my papers at the lodging house. Bribed a servant to do it, perhaps.’
Barak shook his head. ‘I can’t see it.’
‘I’ve no proof. If it was someone else who struck me down at King’s Manor, someone linked to the conspirators, the papers would probably have been despatched to them long ago.’
‘So they’re gone, whatever they were?’
‘Long gone, I’d say.’ I sighed. ‘Maleverer said they would subject Bernard Locke to stiff questioning now. Perhaps they will learn more from him.’
Barak shrugged. ‘I guess they’ll rack him.’
‘Yes.’ I shuddered. ‘And what will he say? I hope the name Martin Dakin does not come up. That would just about finish the old man.’
‘There’s no reason it should. Just because they share the same chambers.’
I nodded thoughtfully. ‘There’s an age difference, too. Giles said Dakin was over forty, and Locke must be about ten years younger if he was of an age with Jennet Marlin.’
‘There you are. Barristers with that much difference in experience wouldn’t normally mix much.’
‘Unless they have other things in common.’ I sighed again. ‘I must visit Broderick when we arrive at Leconfield. I never went back to his carriage yesterday.’
Barak shifted his position to ease his leg. ‘You should tell Maleverer what you have been thinking. That the papers might not have been destroyed.’
‘I will. But he will probably only scoff. He will believe what he wants to believe, which is that it is all over.’
Barak looked round him at the crowds. ‘Who could it have been?’
I followed his gaze. ‘Anyone. Anyone at all.’
WE PASSED THROUGH the little town of Market Weighton without stopping. The King and Queen were at the head of the Progress, far out of sight. People stood in the streets and watched the Progress as they had in the villages, with caps off but generally stony faces, though I heard some ragged cheers up ahead as the King and Queen went by.
Towards evening we came upon a wooded area where trees pressed upon the road, slowing our speed from the usual walking pace. As the sun was beginning to set we came to a halt in a grassy space before an enormous mansion, enclosed by a moat in the old fashion. We got down from our horses. Grooms made their way down the Progress, collecting the gentlemen’s mounts.
‘Do you know where we are billeted?’ I asked the groom who took our horses.
‘One of the steward’s men will tell you, sir. You should wait here till then.’
I helped Barak; with his left leg useless he could not dismount unaided. He cursed and grumbled. Giles appeared; he looked better though he still leaned heavily on his stick. We sat on the grass and looked over the moat to the house and the procession of carts and people spreading out into the neighbouring fields. Already tents were starting to go up. My attention was drawn by a familiar black carriage, ringed by soldiers on horseback that had pulled into the next field. ‘Broderick,’ I said.
Giles looked at me curiously. ‘Sir Edward Broderick of Hallington? I knew he was taken. Is he being brought south?’
‘Ay.’ It was inevitable, now the Progress was on the move again, that questions would be asked about that closed and guarded carriage. I looked at Giles. ‘Did you know him?’
‘Only by reputation. As a fine young man, a good landlord.’ He smiled sadly.
‘I am responsible for seeing he is properly looked after. At the request of Archbishop Cranmer.’
‘On top of everything else?’ Giles looked at me seriously. ‘You carry a heavy load, Matthew.’
‘Not for long, now we are on the move again. I had better go and see how he does. Excuse me.’ I left the others sitting on the grass and walked across to the carriage.
Sergeant Leacon, who was brushing his horse, bowed to me. ‘I was expecting to see you last night, sir,’ he said.
‘Something happened to detain me.’ I looked at the closed carriage. ‘How is the prisoner?’
‘Listless.’
‘And Radwinter?’
He spat on the ground. ‘The same as usual.’
‘I had best look in on them.’
‘Sir William Maleverer was here last night, looking grim. He spent some time talking to the prisoner alone. Made Radwinter wait outside, which did not please him.’