In the Shadow of Lions: A Novel of Anne Boleyn (Chronicles of the Scribe #1)

“Write for me two warrants,” Henry said.

The scribe picked up the feather quill, dipping it in ink and tapping.

“Write for me an arrest warrant for Cardinal Wolsey. He is to be tried for praemanuire, challenging the king’s authority by exercising too much of his own. He will be tried in Leicester at my first convenience. Write a warrant for Cardinal Fisher, too, the priest who botched Catherine’s trial and sent the case to the Pope. The Pope finds great delight in this man’s clever thinking. We will send the Pope his head, with our best wishes for a speedy conclusion to my great matter.”

The scribe made a noise like he was choking as he tried to swallow. Anne’s skin grew hot and prickly, her breath shallow as she met Henry’s eyes. He was smiling. The scribe worked quite fast, no doubt having written many such warrants for Henry in his time here. His was, in fact, the only safe job in the castle, as Henry’s wrath was always narrowly focused on another when his work was being done.

The scribe stood, the documents finished. He held a dish over the candle and nodded in Henry’s direction. Henry took off his ring and handed it to Anne.

“Seal the warrants,” he said.

Anne held the heavy gold ring with his seal.

The scribe poured the melted red wax onto the paper, and Anne watched the thick red pool as it reflected the candlelight. All waited. She felt them all tensing, all except Henry, who pursed his lips in pleasure, as if watching a cockfight. She held the ring a moment more, and wished it were a dagger that she could drive into her stomach. She heard a heavy coarse breathing, and realized it was her own. The wax was cooling on Wolsey’s warrant. She tried to summon an image of the man at his worst but instead saw his watery eyes, looking at her with pity on her first visit to his office. He had not wanted her here, and he had been right.

“I will send men to investigate Sir Thomas,” Henry promised. “Perhaps there is something out of order in his estate.”

She plunged the seal into the wax, scalding her fingers where she held the ring too close. Wolsey had not saved her, and he was damned. Maybe they both were.

Next was Cardinal Fisher’s warrant. The scribe poured the wax and stepped back. Anne turned and looked at Henry. He looked alive with pleasure. He saw her faltering and stepped to her side.

“Anne, Anne,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “Finish it and we will be together.”

Anne began to say something but Henry whispered again.

“If it proves too difficult for you, I will finish. But I will write more. Your brother, for instance. He is guilty of an unspeakable crime, isn’t he? One deserving a wretched, public death.”

Anne clenched her jaw and forced the seal into the wax. The servants slipped the papers from under her hands and fled.

Anne turned and looked at Henry, her stomach sickened. She thought she was going to faint and reached out to him to catch herself. He caught her and dragged her into his embrace.

“That was,” he said, “delicious.”





Chapter Twenty

Rose shoved the coins into the leather drawstring. She looked around the room for anything else of value that might fit. She spied a ring with a nice thick pearl. Margaret never wore it. It would not be missed. She was slipping it into the bag when she was aware of someone watching her.

Spinning around, she saw Sir Thomas in the doorway.

“You’re stealing from Margaret,” he said and sat on her bed with a sigh.

Rose held the bag in plain sight, being too late to hide it.

“She’s gone to the kitchen to ask for milk,” he said. “We’re alone.”

Rose did not like him sitting on the bed or his casual manner. It frightened her.

“What have you done, Rose? What have you infected my children with?”

“I do not know what you mean,” she replied.

“They were obedient children until you came here. Margaret is reading this snake they call Hutchins; her mind is poisoned by sick rhetoric. Who are you, Rose? A spy sent by him to destroy me? To get at me through my children?”

“I was no one before I came here. I never heard of Hutchins.”

“That’s a lie. The day I questioned you in my study, you told Cardinal Wolsey and me that he was preached in your parish.”

“I just wanted to give you the answer you wanted. I was afraid you might throw me out if I didn’t please you.”

“I’m going to throw you out now.”

“No, you’re not. Margaret needs me.”

“Margaret needs a steady hand. I won’t have her infected by the world. Not their lies and not yours. I will keep her in this house, and in the Church, and you will not taint her!”

Rose bowed her head. “Everyone is tainted, Sir Thomas. We are all scarred, we all have secrets, and not one of us is clean. This is the truth you hide from the people, and from your daughter.”