'You are the forces of Babylon, you seize God's chosen children! The righteous will prevail, the mighty shall be pulled down!'
The guards pinioned his arms behind his back and hauled him away, still kicking. Some of the crowd yelled catcalls after him, others shouted support.
'Be steadfast, brother! The Lord's chosen will triumph!'
I heard another rider at my elbow, and turned to see the sardonic features of Pepper, the fellow lawyer I had encountered the day I undertook the mission to Scarnsea.
'Ho, Shardlake!' he called amiably. 'So they've taken another hot gospeller. An Anabaptist by the sound of him. They'd have all our property, you know!'
'Is there a round-up of unlicensed preachers? I've been out of London again.'
'There's talk of Anabaptists in London, the king's ordered all suspects to be taken. He'll burn a few and just as well. They're more dangerous than the papists.'
'There is safety nowhere these days.'
'Cromwell's taken the opportunity to have a general round-up. Cutpurses, fraudsters, unlicensed preachers, they've all been lurking in their dog-holes in this fearsome weather and he's rooting them out. Not before time. D'you remember that old woman with the talking bird we saw?'
'Aye. It seems an age ago.'
'It turned out you were right; the bird just repeats words it's taught. They've brought in a couple of boatloads of the creatures and they're the talk of the City, everyone with a town house wants one. The old woman's been charged with fraud, she'll probably be whipped at the cart's tail. But where have you been, keeping by your fire in this cold?'
'No, Pepper, I have been out in the country, Lord Cromwell's business again.'
'I hear he's looking for a new bride for the king already,' he said, fishing for gossip. 'There's talk of a marriage among the German princes, Hesse or Cleves. That'd tie us to the Lutherans.'
'I have heard nothing. As I say, I have been away on Lord Cromwell's business.'
He looked at me enviously. 'He keeps you busy. D'you think he might have work to spare for me?'
I smiled wryly. 'Yes, Pepper, probably he would.'
===OO=OOO=OO===
At home I looked over the correspondence I had been too weary to do more than glance at the night before. There were letters about cases I was handling; people were becoming anxious for replies on several matters. There was also a letter from my father. The harvest had been poor that year, the farm would show little profit and he was thinking of running more land for sheep. He hoped my business was prospering and that Mark was doing well at Augmentations — I had said nothing of his disgrace. He added that it was said in the country more monasteries would come down. Mark's father said that would be good, it would mean more work for Mark.
I put the letter down and sat staring gloomily into the fire. I thought of Mark Smeaton on the rack under torture, guilty of no crime. And Jerome on the same rack. No wonder he hated the office I embodied. So all he had said was true. He must have known of the link between Singleton and Mark Smeaton, or why tell me the story? Yet he had sworn no one in the monastery had killed Singleton. I tried to remember his exact words, but I was too tired. My thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door, and Joan came in.
'A letter has just come, sir. From Lord Cromwell.'
'Thank you, Joan.' I took the thick letter from her and turned it over in my hands. It was marked 'Most secret'.
'Sir,' she said hesitantly. 'May I ask you something?'
'Of course.' I smiled at her; her plump face was anxious.
'I have wondered, sir, is all well with you? You appear troubled. And Master Mark, is he safe down there on the coast?'
'I hope so,' I said. 'I do not know about his future, though, he does not want to return to Augmentations.'
She nodded. 'That does not surprise me.'
'Doesn't it, Joan? It did me.'
'I could see he was unhappy there. I have heard it is a wicked place full of greedy men, if you will forgive me.'
'Perhaps it is. But there are so many such places. If we were to avoid them all and just sit by our fires, we should all be beggars, should we not?'