Heartstone (48 page)

'Sir Quintin,' I asked, 'when you refer to routine queries do you mean the cutting of Master Hugh's woodlands?'

'Indeed. Master Hobbey has always thought these were good times to exploit the demand for wood. I advised him that would be legal if Hugh was credited with the profits. Exploiting a resource on those terms is not waste, rather a wise benefiting from market conditions.'

Edward laid his hands on the papers. 'There are notes here of my father's discussions with Master Hobbey. You are welcome to see them.'

'I am concerned that the amounts recorded in Master Hobbey's accounts may not reflect the amount of prime oak I have seen in the remaining woodlands.'

Hobbey looked at me sharply. Dyrick addressed Priddis. 'The woodland that has been cut had much less oak than that which remains.'

'You will have seen the lands before the woods were cut down, sir,' I said to Priddis.

'I remember seeing mixed woodland. But that was five years ago, at the first cutting. And travel through woodland presents difficulties for me now.' He nodded at his dead white hand.

'Master Hobbey said your son rides the lands for you.'

'That is true,' Edward said. 'And I am sure my father's assessment is right. However,' he added smoothly, 'we will be staying in Portsmouth a few days more, and can journey out to Hoyland. I have no objection to riding out with you to look at the lands. You can show me what you mean.'

And you can interpret it as you like, I thought, for there is no real proof; it is too late to do anything. But, if nothing else, I wanted to get to know this pair better, for Ellen's sake. Edward Priddis would have been around twenty at the time of the fire, I thought, his father in his forties.

Sir Quintin smiled. 'Good. I will come out to Hoyland with you. I could do with a day away from this stinking town. I can still just about ride, but I will have to rest at Master Hobbey's fine house. Well, Master Shardlake, you see how we make every effort to cooperate with the court. We could come next Monday, the thirteenth. In the afternoon.'

Hobbey looked worried. 'Sir, we are having a hunt on Monday. It has been planned for many weeks. It would be awkward--'

'Ah, the hunt,' Priddis said wistfully. 'I used to love hunting. Well, Monday is the only day I can come. I am due to set off for Winchester on Tuesday. We need not get in your way. The hunt should be over by three o'clock, I hazard.'

Dyrick spoke then. 'I see little point in riding through the remains of long-felled woodland to try and work out what sort of trees once grew there. And the Bill of Information that started this matter spoke of monstrous wrongs. But Master Curteys has no complaints, I believe.'

Sir Quintin turned to Hugh. 'What say you, lad? Has any wrong been done to you by Master Hobbey or his family?' I looked at the feodary. He was relaxed, he knew what answer the boy would make.

'No, sir,' Hugh answered quietly. 'Only that I am not allowed to join the army, which is what I wish.'

Priddis laughed creakily. 'So many avoiding their obligations, and here is a fine lad offering to serve. But, young man, your place is at home. And in three years' time, you will be able to sue out your livery and take your place as a gentleman with your own lands.' He waved his good arm. 'Take your hand from your face; I of all people have reason not to be put off by blemishes. Stand forth boldly! If one attracts stares, that is how one must react. Eh, Master Shardlake?'

I did not reply. Hugh lowered his hand, and Priddis studied him a moment more. Then he looked at Hobbey. 'The boy has a pleasant aspect, despite those scars. Is there a marriage in prospect?'

Hobbey shook his head. 'I am leaving Master Hugh free to choose whom he would marry. There is no one at present.'

Priddis looked at me severely. 'It seems, Master Shardlake, that you may have been sent on a fool's errand. Your client risks heavy costs when the case returns to Wards.'

'It is my duty to investigate everything.'

Priddis inclined his head. 'I suppose that is your prerogative.'

Dyrick spoke scathingly. 'I fear Brother Shardlake will be pulling up the floorboards at the priory to see if there are any mice that might bite Hugh.'

Sir Quintin raised a reproving finger. 'Now, Master Dyrick, I am sure he would not go quite that far.'

Edward Priddis murmured to his father, 'We must consider the papers on Sir Martin Osborne's case this morning--'

'Quite right,' Sir Quintin agreed. 'Thank you, gentlemen, I will see you on Monday.' He smiled at Hobbey. 'If your hunting guests see me, tell them I am an old friend who has called by.' He gave his little cackle.

We bowed and left. Outside, Dyrick rounded on me angrily. 'God's blood, Shardlake, why will you not let this go? You saw what Sir Quintin thought of it all. Are you out to embarrass Master Hobbey on the day of his hunt?'

'Calm yourself, Brother. You heard Sir Quintin, he will not advertise his business.'

We walked downstairs in silence. The clerk who had shown us up was talking in deferential tones to two men standing in the doorway of the Guildhall. Both were dressed in fur-lined robes and caps despite the July heat, and each had a fat gold chain round his neck. They turned, and I recognized Sir William Paulet and Sir Richard Rich. I was so shocked I stopped dead at the bottom of the staircase, so that Hobbey bumped into me from behind. Paulet threw me a severe look, but Rich gave a little snort of laughter.

'Master Shardlake,' he said. 'We will not eat you. On my oath, you are turned into a nervous fellow since your time in the Tower.'

Mention of the Tower brought the buzz of conversation among the people in the hallway to a halt. Everyone looked round.

'Your enquiries are still proceeding, Brother Shardlake?' Paulet asked coldly. 'You must have been here, what, a week?'

'Five days, Sir William.'

Rich gave his thin smile. 'Oh, Master Shardlake was ever a persistent fellow. No matter what trouble his persistence may land him in.'

'I act only within the confines of the law,' I answered steadily.

'So must all men,' Rich answered.

'I take it you have been seeing Sir Quintin Priddis?' Paulet asked.

'We have, sir.'

'Quintin Priddis, eh?' Rich's grey eyes widened with curiosity.

'He is the feodary of Hampshire,' Paulet said.

'I knew Sir Quintin when I was studying for the Bar thirty years ago. He gave me some interesting insights about the use of the law. Well, it is a small world at the top. And everyone of importance is heading for Portsmouth now. You should not be so astonished to see me, Master Shardlake.'

'I knew you were coming, Sir Richard. You passed us on the road last week.'

'I did not see you.'

'I was travelling with a company of soldiers.'

'Soldiers, eh? Well, I am in charge of finance for supplying the army, as I was in France last year. Making sure the merchants do not cheat the King.' He snuggled his pointed little chin into his fur collar, a courtier enjoying the display of power. 'Governor Paulet has been seeking my advice on security matters,' he went on. 'There is fighting between the soldiers and sailors who find their way to the city every night. If we could hang a few more--'

'We're short enough of men,' Paulet answered curtly. 'We can't go hanging the ones we've got. I'll speak to the officers again. Now, Sir Richard, the mayor is waiting within - '

'A moment, Sir William,' Rich said softly. 'I would have a brief word with my friend Shardlake.' He waved a hand at our party. 'The rest of you, go.' Barak hesitated, and Rich snapped, 'You too, Jack Barak. Always nosing around, ever since you served Lord Cromwell that lost his head.' Barak turned reluctantly and joined the others at the entrance.

'Now, Matthew Shardlake.' Rich stood close, I saw the heavy gold links of his chain, the smoothness of his narrow cheeks, smelt garlic on his breath. 'Listen to me, well and carefully. It is time for you to complete your business and hasten back to London. The King and Queen are at Godalming, they will be here in the middle of next week. My intelligence is that the King does not know you are Queen Catherine's friend. And if he did, and saw you here, he might be displeased with you again.' He leaned forward, poked my chest with a narrow finger. 'Time to be gone.'

'Sir Richard,' I asked quietly, 'why does it matter to you where I am or what I do?'

Rich inclined his head and smiled. 'Because I do not like you. I do not like the sight of your bent back or your long nose or your busy little eyes with their censorious look. And I am a member of his majesty's Privy Council, so when I say it is time for you to go, you go.' He turned away, his long robe billowing as he walked back to where Paulet stood watching inside the doorway. I went back to the others, my stomach churning. Dyrick looked at me curiously.

'Was that Sir Richard Rich?'

'It was.'

Dyrick laughed. 'I think he does not love you, Brother.'

'No,' I answered quietly. 'No, he does not.'

T
HE OSTLER
brought the horses round. There was little space to mount in the crowded street; one of the horses almost backed into a water carrier bent double under his huge conical basket.

'What did that evil little arsehole want?' Barak whispered.

'Not now. I'll tell you when we're on our own.'

Hobbey looked at David and Hugh. 'We shall ride down to the bottom of Oyster Street. We should be able to see the big ships anchored at Spithead from there. But then we will leave Master Shardlake to meet his friend and go home.'

'Could we not ride out to South Sea?' David asked. 'Look at the new castle?' There was still a sadness in his face; I thought, he seeks distraction.

'I have preparations to make for the hunt. And I want you boys back home. Apart from anything else, these scabby crowds will be alive with fleas.'

I wondered if the boys would argue further, but Hugh merely shrugged. David looked surly.

We rode on down the High Street, past the church, a solid Norman building with heavy buttresses. At a little distance I saw the walls of what looked like a former monastic house; tall, narrow buildings were visible over the wall, and the round tower of a large church.

'That is the old Godshouse,' Hobbey said. 'It was a monastic hospital, and lodging for travellers. It is being used as a meeting place now, and a storehouse for military equipment. We must turn here.'

We had halted in a broad space where several streets met. Opposite us the walls ended at a large square tower. Bronze and iron cannon pointed out to sea, the sun glinting on the bronze barrels. Some soldiers were drilling on a wide platform. Hugh and David looked at them with keen admiration. We turned right into a paved street fronting a little tidal bay almost enclosed by a low, semi-circular spit of land. 'That little harbour is the Camber,' Hobbey said. 'God's death, it smells foul today.'

'The marshy spit is the Point,' Hugh added.

'If we ride down to the other end we can see the ships across the Point,' Hobbey said. 'Come, let us get on.'

It took only a few minutes to ride down Oyster Street. The town wall continued along the eastern half of the spit opposite us, ending in a high round tower topped with more heavy cannon. Oyster Street was full of shops and taverns. Labourers stood outside, drinking beer. We rode carefully past soldiers and sailors, carters and labourers, and numerous merchants engaged in busy argument. At the far end of the street the circular spit of land ended at a narrow opening to the sea. Opposite the opening, at the end of Oyster Street, a broad stone jetty stood surrounded by warehouses. Goods were being carried in constantly from carts that pulled up outside, while other men brought out supplies and loaded them onto little supply boats.

We rode to the jetty, passing a group of well-dressed merchants disputing the price of biscuit with an official. Hugh's gaze was drawn by two labourers carrying a long, slightly curved box carefully to the jetty.

'A longbow box,' he said wistfully.

W
E HALTED
a little beyond the jetty, where a walkway ran under the town walls. From here we could see across the narrow harbour entrance to the Gosport shore. There several more forts stood, mightily armed with cannon.