Thomas Cromwell put down the piece of parchment he was studying and with a brief wave beckoned them forward. “Master Bedwell, I know you. Please do me the honour of introducing your companions.”
His voice was relaxed and even, but firm in its understanding of power. It had been said by some at the Inns of Court that Cromwell was a man to watch. He knew the currents of power like a fish knew the river’s flow, and as secretary to the Lord Chancellor, Cardinal Wolsey, he was close to the most powerful men in the land.
Despite the pain in his shoulder and ribs, Ned bowed low in a manner he hoped showed sufficient and proper deference. The introductions were simple and without embellishment and at each one Cromwell’s eyes flicked to a parchment on the table. Ned thought he saw a sight twitch of recognition when he came to Mistress Black but he may have been mistaken.
“So why do I have three suspects for murder standing before me? And why would you wish to see Lady Anne? An interesting question ehh, Master Bedwell? Do you have an interesting answer for me?”
At the last instant Secretary Cromwell switched his beacon-like stare from the parchment in hand to Ned, who suddenly found his mouth very dry. He desperately tried to recall all he had ever heard regarding the Cardinal’s right hand man, even dredging up the boring anecdotes of his uncle. The man was a brilliant administrator. It was said, but not too loudly, that he was the reason for the Cardinal’s continued high standing, especially by his novel method of disposing of a large number of religious houses, thus acquiring the money needed for Wolsey to build his two colleges. That Cromwell was ruthless and cunning went without saying. He had steadily advanced in rank and power since he joined Wolsey’s service, and so here he was in the royal court, acting on behalf of his master-eyes, ears and cunning calculation.
“Secretary Cromwell, I bring the kind regards of my uncle and I humbly petition on behalf of myself and my companions to hear us out. We carry information of great import to His Majesty concerning treason.” If his uncle knew he was claiming his good name the man would have had a fit and disown his nephew immediately. No matter, Ned was desperate for any clawed advantage.
The dangerous statement of treason created only the smallest tremor of a frown on Secretary Cromwell’s fleshy face, but he did pull one of the clerks closer with a peremptory wave. The man lent in and nodded in obsequious acquiescence. In a minute the great hall was empty except for two guards who stood prominently either side of the door. A further snap of the Secretary’s fingers brought Ned’s wary band closer. “Master Bedwell, the merest whisper of the word treason, and you have my fullest attention.”
It was spoken in a soft voice but it carried well enough for them all to hear. What didn’t need to be said was that if the Secretary’s attention wavered they’d regret it-but not for long.
Ned stepped forward. Well his daemon hinted at last he had a chance to prove his leadership. It was ironic since the whole matter revolved around Smeaton and the Cardinal’s machinations. However it was impossible to summon the dead to speak the truth or otherwise, so amongst the three of them in this company of the Cardinal’s Angels, Ned was the only one who had a chance of keeping Cromwell’s interest. “Master Cromwell I have been falsely accused of the murder of John Smeaton, as have my companions.”
That didn’t even register an acknowledgement. Ned knew that despite the proclaimed requirements of English law for a coroner’s inquiry, in reality this was their trial and so he pushed on. “There was a brawl outside a gaming house in Southwark and the Cardinal’s man called upon me to aid him which for my honour and duty I did. However after I was struck down, another stabbed him, one who was with him in the Gaming house, a man who can be identified by these two Londoners.”
Ned waved for Robert Black to step forward then his sister Meg. Both repeated the tale of the assault and its aftermath. Their judge and jury gave a brief nod and waved them back.
Ned continued with a carefully edited version that removed details of the Cardinal’s gold and substituted ‘a learned gentleman’ for Dr Caerleon. He’d no idea how much Wolsey had shared with his secretary, but somehow he’d an inkling that most of this tale was beyond the usual purview of Cromwell. Ned concluded with a very brief version of their journey and the ambush, carefully editing names until he knew more of their court associations.
Through all this Cromwell just sat there, impassive and omnipotent, flicking his gaze between a couple of sheets of parchment and the accused. Surprisingly the Black siblings stood up well to this ominous intimidation.
“Master Bedwell you have been extremely circumspect in this but I want names. You have so far avoided any and I commend your caution. In the end I want them and your reason for the claim of treason.”
Ned tried not to look at his friends. It was really up to him now to pull it all together. He drew a deep breath and started. “Skelton, a northerner, killed John Smeaton outside the Cardinal’s Cap. He was also at the White Lamb and he was part of the ambush. I have been told that he serves the Duke of Norfolk though I cannot prove that. The other is Don Juan Sebastian, a Spaniard. He claimed to be in the service of Her Majesty Queen Catherine or the Imperial ambassador. I believe he was to meet Smeaton, but once more I have no proof. He did, however, have excellent knowledge of the matter and also was at the White Lamb and a part of the ambush. He offered me a considerable sum to hand over the information we’d found.”
That received the briefest of nods. Ned was sure the names had been noted and if required, Cromwell could come up with a complete profile on each within minutes.
“And why bring it here?”
This was going to be the difficult part. Ned squeezed up his courage, took a deep breath and spoke. “I may only have been at Gray’s Inn for this past year but I know enough of the law and practice to know when matters need to be passed on to others more qualified and experienced.”
A further cautious nod came from Cromwell. Daring all he plunged on. “I believe you should deal with this on behalf of His Sovereign Majesty and Lady Boleyn. I will never prejudge any man and I am not privy to the requirements of royal policy, and considering what we have seen so far, from the actions of others this is too dangerous for any to handle who do not have an intimate knowledge of the multifaceted affairs of state.”
Ned thought that had been pretty good, now for the flourish. He stepped carefully forward and slowly pulled out the battered satchel. The guards shifted. There was a loud metallic sound that sent shivers up his spine, but a short gesture from the Cromwell set them back to rest. The Cardinal’s secretary opened the wallet cautiously, and with a delicate touch that belied his bulk, examined the letters and the treasonous horoscope from the learned astrologer. Ned had removed the candles which were tucked in his doublet, just in case their secret contents were required for any last minute contingencies, like procuring an escape from prison.
He was close enough to see the impact of the review. There was a passing tremor along Cromwell’s jaw as the muscles jumped distractedly. At a guess this was all news to the Lord Chancellor’s principal servant. Once more he made a leisurely perusal of the damning documents comparing each one. Both of them knew it was the Cardinal’s hand. With that unique sense that one must acquire to survive at court, Ned could feel the balance tipping one way then another as Secretary Cromwell weighed up the causes and effects of these letters. It was almost as if a giant scale stood behind him, each word and cipher steadying or dipping depending on its merits and the shift in alliances and factions that its use would imply.