I sighed. ‘I am bound to Cromwell. And to help my country.’
‘And how do you think Cromwell, and King Henry, would use Greek Fire, ruthless men of blood that they are? For murder and mayhem, that is how.’ He was angry. ‘This is far worse than Scarnsea, Matthew. Cromwell has used you again not just to hunt a murderer, but to aid him in a brutal, cruel blasphemy.’
I bit my lip.
‘And Barak,’ he continued, ‘how does he see things?’
‘He is utterly loyal to his master.’ I looked at Guy. ‘I will tell him nothing of this conversation.’ I leaned back on the bed with a sigh. ‘You do well to upbraid me,’ I said quietly. ‘I have worried about what Greek Fire may do, but - yes, I have been driven on by a passion to catch these murderers, recover what was stolen. And to save Elizabeth Wentworth. At any cost.’
‘That cost may be too high. You must decide when the time comes, Matthew. It will be between you and God.’
Chapter Thirty-three
IT WAS LATE MORNING by the time we arrived home. I opened the front door quietly, hoping we might get upstairs without Joan seeing our sorry condition, but paused at the sight of a note in Godfrey’s large round hand on the table. I broke the seal.
‘Bealknap’s back!’ I said. ‘He’s in his chambers. Thank God, I feared he might be—’ I did not finish the sentence.
‘Let’s get a message to Leman then,’ Barak said, ‘and go to Lincoln’s Inn.’
Just then Joan appeared from the kitchen, alerted by our voices. Her eyes widened at the state we were in.
‘Sir, what’s happened now?’ There was a slight quaver in her voice. ‘When you didn’t come back last night I was worried.’
‘There’s been a bad fire over at Queenhithe,’ I said gently. ‘We were caught up in it, but we’re all right. I’m sorry, Joan, there have been many turmoils this week.’
‘You look worn out, sir. What happened to your hair, Master Barak?’
‘It got singed. I look monstrous, hey?’ He gave her his most charming smile. ‘What I need is someone to cut the other side, so I don’t frighten the children.’
‘I could have a try.’
‘You are a pearl among women, Mistress Woode.’
While Joan fetched some scissors and took Barak up to his room, I scribbled a note to Leman and gave it to a wide-eyed Simon to take to Cheapside. Then I went up. I shut my bedroom door and leaned on it wearily. Guy’s words about the nature of my mission returned to me. I had been too tired, too frightened for myself and the others involved, to think much further than uncovering the conspirators. But what if I were to succeed? What if the time came when the Greek Fire formula was in my hands? What would I do then? I remembered poor Bathsheba’s words. A plot against Lord Cromwell. Just what had Michael and his brother planned that had been interrupted by their deaths? I shook my head. For now there was nothing to do but go on, beard Bealknap in his den now I had the chance. It was the fifth of June, I realized, only five days left.
AT LINCOLN’S INN I left Barak and Leman in my rooms, then crossed the courtyard to Marchamount’s chambers to enquire after him. Distasteful though the prospect was, I had to talk to him about Lady Honor once I had seen Bealknap. His clerk, though, said he was out at Hertford, appearing in a case before the circuit judge, and would not be back until the morrow. I cursed inwardly. At least on my mission for Cromwell three years before I had had all the parties secure in a monastery enclosure. I told the clerk I would return on the morrow also, and went back to where Leman and Barak waited, watching Skelly laboriously copying out the application for the Chancery writ for Bealknap’s case. Leman, who seemed more confident today, asked if Bealknap was in his rooms.
‘So the message said. I shall just check with my colleague,’ I replied.
Leman smiled, a grim smile that anticipated revenge.
I knocked at Godfrey’s door and went in. He was standing looking from the window, a troubled expression on his thin face. He gave me a watery smile.
‘Come to see Brother Bealknap, Matthew? I saw him go to his chambers earlier.’
‘Good. Are you all right, Godfrey?’
He fingered the hem of his robe. ‘I have had a letter from the secretary. It seems the Duke of Norfolk is not satisfied with my fine. He wants a public apology in hall.’
I sighed. ‘Well, Godfrey, you did break all the rules of courtesy—’
‘You know it is not about that!’ he snapped out, his eyes flashing. ‘However it is worded, it will be taken as an apology for my religious beliefs.’
‘Godfrey,’ I said seriously, ‘for Jesu’s sake, make your apology and live to fight another day. If you refuse you’ll be debarred, and a marked man.’
‘Perhaps it would be worth it,’ he said quietly. ‘It could become a legal cause célèbre, like the Hunne case.’