Heartstone (85 page)

'But your majesty--'

'Have him fetched,' she repeated, steel in her voice. She turned to the ladies. 'Leave us, this is a privy matter.'

Warner hesitated, then bowed and left, the maids-in-waiting following. The Queen and I were alone. The anger in her brown eyes had changed to concern. I felt tears come to my eyes again.

'The
Mary Rose
- it must have been terrible. The King saw her go down - he was stricken by it. Lady Carew was with him, he comforted her.'

'The soldiers on the aftercastle, it was because of me they were brought there. Barak says if it had not been them it would have been another company, and he is right, but - I keep seeing them, thinking I caused their deaths.'

'That is natural, if wrong.' She smiled again, sadly. 'But words do not help, do they? Only time and prayer can do that.'

'Prayer, your majesty?' I repeated hollowly.

'Yes, prayer.'

'I have lost the art.'

She reached out her hand and laid it on mine. A soft, shapely hand, scented. Then she lifted it abruptly as a knock sounded on the door. She called, 'Enter,' and Warner ushered in Richard Rich, his sharp little head buried in the thick fur collar of his grey robe, gold chain of office round his neck. His hard little eyes swept the room. Then he saw me, his eyes widened and he stepped back. I thought, so Barak was right, you thought me dead. Rich staggered and might have fallen had Warner not grasped his thin little shoulders. Rich looked at the Queen, remembered where he was, and bowed deeply. The Queen stared at him with eyes as hard as his own.

'Sir Richard,' she said grimly, 'I see you believed Master Shard-lake dead.'

Rich brought himself under control. 'I heard he was on the
Mary Rose
, your majesty. They said only a few sailors and soldiers survived.'

The Queen spoke quietly, her eyes never leaving Rich's face. 'I know you sent him on board the
Mary Rose
, to be killed by the man West, who is dead now, and who for all his grievous faults at least tried to protect the life of the woman whose life you helped him ravage.'

Rich gave me a wolfish look. 'I do not know what this man has told you, your majesty, but he is my enemy. He will say aught--'

'I believe what he has said, Sir Richard. It makes sense, given the things I know you are capable of. The killing of the clerk Mylling--'

'He shut himself in that chamber--'

She continued as though he had not spoken. 'Your conspiracy with West to murder Master Shardlake, your allowing Emma Curteys to go on the
Mary Rose
, knowing who she was, I know everything, all the way back to the time you stole the King's letter to Anne Boleyn and took it to Catherine of Aragon - '

Rich licked his thin lips. He pointed at me. 'Nothing of this can be proved. West is dead--'

'His mother lives. She could testify that letter was stolen; there are not many left who were at court nineteen years ago, but there may be some who will remember you going with West. I could soon start an enquiry. And the King will certainly remember that letter--'

Rich's eye began twitching. 'Bring me a bible, your majesty. I will swear on it before you--'

'When did you sell your soul to the devil?' the Queen asked quietly.

Rich reddened, opened his mouth, then closed it hard, his pointed little chin jutting but the tic under his eye twitching again. The Queen said, 'Listen to me, Richard Rich. The woman Ellen Fettiplace, and Master West's mother, are now under my personal protection. As West is dead, I shall pay Ellen's fees at the Bedlam myself so long as she chooses to stay there. If anything happens to her, or to Matthew, I promise you on my oath - and
my
oath is not made lightly - I shall tell the King all you have done, starting with your theft of that letter, which gave Catherine of Aragon notice he intended to divorce her.'

Rich said nothing. The Queen's face flushed with anger.

'Do you understand? Answer your Queen, churl!'

He said, very quietly, 'I understand, your majesty.'

'One thing more,' I added. My voice sounded thick from the hatred I felt for Rich. 'There is a will, that he tricked me into making. He has a copy. It must be destroyed.'

The Queen turned to Warner. 'Robert, Master Rich will bring the copy to you within the hour. You will personally destroy it.'

Rich looked at the Queen with hunted, twitching eyes. She stared him down. 'I will bring it,' he said.

'Good. Then get out of my sight. And stay out of it.'

Rich bowed, then began walking backwards out of the room. From the doorway he gave me a look. It told me plainly that if ever I found myself at his mercy again, I would die, slowly and painfully, while he watched.

As the door closed behind him I drew a deep breath. Warner, too, visibly relaxed. The Queen alone still stared angrily at the closed door.

W
ARNER TOOK
Barak and me to the gate of Portchester Castle. He had not spoken, but as we parted he said quietly, 'Regarding Sir Quintin Priddis and his son, the Queen may want to act against them, but I shall argue against it. It would make these matters public and do no good to the Court of Wards. The King much values the profits it brings, and I do not want the Queen arguing with him.'

'I understand,' I said.

He took a deep breath. 'And after this I feel it might be safer if the Queen did not instruct you in any more cases.'

I nodded. 'Given where this one led?'

He spoke quietly. 'If you love her, as I do, you will leave her in peace now.'

'I agree, Master Warner. And I am sorry again that I accused you.'

He nodded, then reached out a hand. 'Goodbye, Matthew,' he said.

'Goodbye, Robert, and thank you.' I hesitated, 'Beware of Richard Rich. I fear I have made him into the Queen's enemy.'

'I will.'

Barak and I rode across the bridge over the moat. My eyes turned to the sea, then flickered away. I drew a deep breath.

'To Hoyland,' I said. 'Then home.'

We turned and rode away from Portchester Castle, away from the sea.

Chapter Fifty

T
WO HOURS LATER
we rode again down the narrow lane to Hoyland Priory. We passed through the gate and faced the house. Poor Abigail's flowers had mostly died and the grass on the once neat lawns was starting to grow high. The windows were shuttered. I saw the butts by the nuns' graveyard had gone.

I had been relieved to turn inland, but now, as we rode towards the porch, the gentle motion of the horse seemed all at once like a heaving deck. I grasped the reins, pulled Oddleg to a halt, and closed my eyes, breathing heavily.

'All right?' Barak asked anxiously.

'Yes. Just give me a moment.'

'There's Dyrick.'

I opened my eyes. Dyrick had come out onto the steps. He stood there in his black robe, frowning at us. The sight restored me; I would not let that man see my weakness. Dyrick called over his shoulder into the hall, and a boy ran out to take the horses.

'You're back at last,' Dyrick said in his grating voice as we approached. 'It's been four days. Master Hobbey has been out of his mind with worry. Where is Emma? Did you find her?'

I had to smile at how, even now, he had to be argumentative. Yet I could see he had been mightily worried; fearing no doubt that what the Hobbeys had done to Emma might have been discovered.

'I found her, Dyrick. But she would not return with me. She ran away again, I do not know where she is.'

'We heard of the
Mary Rose
sinking, the attack on the Isle of Wight.'

'The French failed to take it. Though they are still in the Solent.' I had already agreed with Barak to say nothing about being on the
Mary Rose
. There was no point. 'The lawn is starting to look unkempt,' I said.

Dyrick grunted. 'Half the servants have left. Even that old crone Ursula has gone, saying the household's cursed. They've all run back to the village, to try and ingratiate themselves with Ettis. He has been released, by the way. Master Hobbey kept his word.'

'Where is he?'

'In his study. He never leaves it now, save to go to his son.'

'How is David?'

'Recovering, but they think he will never walk properly again. And Jesu knows what is happening in his mind. I fear he may spill out the whole story,' Dyrick added in a pettish tone. 'He needs to be kept somewhere where he can be watched.'

I stared at him. His words reminded me of how West and Rich had protected themselves after Ellen's rape. Nothing like that, I would make sure, would happen to David.

N
ICHOLAS
H
OBBEY
sat at his desk. When we came in I saw the sad blankness that had been on his face since Abigail's death, then a kind of desperate eagerness. He had, I saw, lost weight.

'Emma! Have you news of her? We have been waiting.' There was an old man's querulousness in his voice now.

'We were detained in Portsmouth. There has been fighting--'

'Yes. They brought the news the
Mary Rose
was lost. But, sir, Emma - '

I took a deep breath. 'I found her, but she ran away again. She has left Portsmouth. I do not know where she is now.'

His face fell. 'Is she still - pretending to be her brother?'

'I think she will continue to do so. That identity is all she has known for years.'

Dyrick said, 'She can't last for long on the road. She took no money.'

'It is possible she may try to join a company somewhere.'

Hobbey groaned. 'Sleeping in hedges, stealing food from gardens - '

Dyrick added angrily, 'And any day she could be caught and exposed for who she really is.'

I said, 'Emma is intelligent. She will realize she cannot support herself, that she risks discovery. I think there is a chance at least that she may seek me out.'

'In London?' Hobbey asked.

'I told her I was taking her wardship, that I would leave her to decide what to make of her life.'

'Then pray God she does come to you.' Hobbey sighed, then added, 'I plan to go back to London myself, sell this wretched place and buy a small house, somewhere quiet. It will be easier for David, and I can find better help for his afflictions there.'

'Afflicted he is,' Dyrick said emphatically.

'Do you think I, of all people, do not know that?' Hobbey snapped. He turned back to me. 'I will get a good price for this house and all these woods. Sir Luke Corembeck has expressed an interest.' He turned to Dyrick, with another touch of his old sharpness. 'Make sure of the price, Vincent. I leave the negotiation to you. Whatever we make will be all David and I have to live on in the future, once - once my old debts are paid off. Master Shardlake, will you hold Emma's share if she has not returned by the time Hoyland is sold?'

'I will.'

'We'd get more if we had the village woodlands,' Dyrick grumbled.

'Well, we don't,' Hobbey said. 'Leave tomorrow, Vincent, get the negotiations moving from London. I am sick of the sight of you,' he added. Dyrick's face darkened. Hobbey turned to me. 'Master Shardlake, I want you, if you will, to see David. To reassure him you plan to say nothing of what happened to his mother.'

I nodded agreement. I still felt the responsibility of keeping that secret; I needed to see how David was.