This was it, all or nothing. Ned eased out a breath and began a highly edited explanation. “As you are aware my lord, Sir Roderick had been charged with investigating the murders on board the Ruyter of Bremen, while I had been given the same task by Privy Councillor Cromwell. As we were both servants of His Majesty, we decided to combine our efforts.”
If Ned read the Lord Chancellor correctly, the crinkling of an eyebrow indicated that this did not fit in with established practice, or his prior knowledge of the facts. “My lord, I have a signed warrant from Sir Roderick, signed before witnesses, setting this forth.”
Ned presented the document for the Lord Chancellor’s perusal. He could tell that the Pursuivant had failed to mention its existence to his master, who read through it thoroughly, obviously looking for loopholes. Perhaps Sir Roderick should have been more honest in his reports to his master.
“It is his mark.” This was a reluctant acknowledgement, but Sir Thomas had to concede the point.
“My lord, we tracked the heinous slaying back to two men who worked at the Tower, where Sir Roderick had also discovered these miscreants were also involved in some foreign plot with a Hanse merchant regarding His Majesty’s Gonne powder stores.”
Now this did get a response. Sir Thomas gave a nod of limited acceptance, but Ned could tell he had all the Lord Chancellor’s attention now.
“Together with Sir Welkin Blackford, Master of the King’s Ordinance, we set a trap for the conspirators last night.”
That also gained a further nod. Sir Thomas More wasn’t giving anything away it seemed.
“From what we can ascertain, the two powder sorters, Watkins and Edwards, gave access to a party of foreigners to explode the Tower magazine.” Ned was watching carefully. The Lord Chancellor refused to take the bait.
“In the affray, Sir Welkin and Sir Frederick seized the traitors, who in despair of their capture threw a lantern into an open barrel of Gonne powder, slaying many.” Ned bowed his head and made the sign of the cross.
The Lord Chancellor frowned at the retelling. It was plain he found the tale difficult to accept. “Can Sir Welkin verify this record of events?”
Ned was about to speak, but Master Robinson hobbled into view, leaning heavily on a pair of crutches. “My Lord Chancellor, I fear not. He was also slain in the explosion. I am Sir Welkin’s clerk, my lord. He set me to investigate irregularities with the Gonne powder records, and in that capacity I was seized and held prisoner by the two traitors. In my hearing they openly gloated about their evil deeds, both the murders and the attempted treachery.”
That sounded so much a better statement than the frank admission that Sir Welkin was shot trying to escape during the Lion Tower assault.
As a court room lawyer, Sir Thomas was excellent. Not a wince or twitch at this very reworked, but impossible to disprove, version of events.
“Did these miscreants ever mention who they were in league with?” A question of some concern to the Lord Chancellor, as it would be to any Royal official such as Blackford or Belsom.
Master Robinson, having been in the King’s service for some years, was unlikely to fall for that trap. “I fear not, my lord. They made reference to foreign gold and obliging friends across the waters, but mentioned no names other than the Hanse merchant.”
It would also seem that Norfolk was going to back up his promise, for now Skelton also took a step forward. “It’s as the clerk says m’ lord. They wer’ slain when the powder went. Tis nay a good way fo’ a man to go.” Skelton shrugged with evident regret at such an unmanly demise. It was a safe and bland statement of fact.
More was a skilled player at Court. He could read volumes into the vast omissions in Skelton’s claim, but he only allowed himself a brief question. “I was not aware that my lord of Norfolk had an interest in this affair.”
“My lord does nay keep with any who try an’ sully his family name with the call o’ treason. The duke ‘ad trade aboard that ship.An wants nay part o’ this.” Skelton gave a brusque wave, and Rob Black stepped forward, depositing a sack of books in front of the Lord Chancellor.
That single pile of books had almost cost Ned more pain than the rest of the affair. They were translated bibles pried off Meg Black. True, they were broken, battered and in some cases rejected due to serious flaws in printing. Even so, despite the fact that they could never be sold or used, Ned had been forced to argue well into the early morning that they had to have something to give to the Lord Chancellor. Reason or exhaustion had prevailed.
“This were got out o’ the shipmaster’s cabin. Seems the Hanse merchant, Hagan, were into a bit o’ smugglin’ along with the powder. There’s another pair or so o’ barrels out with ye men.”
The Lord Chancellor’s eyes burned with a fierce longing as he beheld the gathered collection of heretical works. His reputation as an unforgiving enemy of any writings contradictory to the writ of Holy Mother Church was already infamous. This offering was bound to whet his interest, and from what Ned had found out, equalled the last three seizures.
“What of the Hanse who trafficked in such blasphemies?”
Ned spoke up before Skelton could ruin their tale. “My Lord Chancellor, the Hanse, Albrecht Hagan, has already paid the ultimate price for his treachery. He was amongst the slain last night.”
Sir Thomas fixed Ned with an especially keen glare. “This unfortunate accident with the King’s powder seems to have removed a remarkably convenient number of people, Master Bedwell.”
“Over twenty we think, my lord, though it’s a bit difficult to tell, what with the few pieces we have been able to find.” That handy piece of information came from Rob Black, and the Lord Chancellor switched his fascinated attention to the apprentice artificer.
“Pieces?” The tone of surprise was unfeigned
“Aye my lord. We think there were four or five barrels that went up, taking out the building and one of the wharfs. Not much left after that.”
Perhaps honesty from a man like Rob was outside of Sir Thomas’s experience, for the Lord Chancellor just frowned and tapped the arm of his chair distractedly. Or maybe it was the ‘bits and pieces’ concept that was difficult to encompass. Whichever it was, Ned was very relieved. The disposal of the remains of the affray had been a cause of concern, until Gruesome Roger had suggested an appropriate and simple solution.
Ned had originally been aghast at such a method, until he considered the elegant symmetry and the fact that the people along the riverside who had suffered under the sustained abuse would see it as a fitting revenge. When he had seen the results of just five barrels, he was doubly glad they’d foiled the plot. If the traitors had set off the six thousand barrels, as originally planned, it would have truly devastated the city. Such an awesome power of destruction should only be the preserve of an almighty and forgiving God, rather than the fallible hands of man.
The Lord Chancellor, having been deflected from the affair of the Gonne powder and smuggling, was left with only two avenues of approach. Somehow it seemed appropriate for him to start with the one closest to his passion. Anyway it was past time that Meg Black had a serving of the Lord Chancellor’s interest. That was, after all, just and fair.
“Mistress Black, during the investigation of heresies your name has come to my attention. My pursuivants…” The Lord Chancellor halted there. Obviously he had recalled the fate of his most recent servant, and paused in distasteful thought. No doubt the word ‘pieces’ wafted into consideration
“There have been rumours that you are involved in the subversion of His Majesty’s explicit command regarding the import of heretical texts.” Sir Thomas had regained his accustomed stride, and while not prosecuting in the courtroom, he made it seem that Mistress Black was indeed on trial.