Lamentation (The Shardlake series)

I remembered Okedene saying that he had heard them arguing loudly with each other in Greening’s shed, especially recently. ‘Did they disagree much between themselves?’


Myldmore nodded. ‘Often, though usually on points I found obscure, like whether someone baptized as a child needs a complete immersion when they are rebaptized as an adult.’

‘What about matters concerning the social order? Did anyone disagree with Elias’s remarks about throwing down the rich, for example?’

‘No. No, they all agreed on that.’

I smiled back. ‘People fierce in their righteousness?’

‘Ay. Though Greening was a gentle and amiable man until you got him on to religion. The Dutchman was the worst; sometimes his accent was hard to understand, but that did not stop him calling you names like “blind simpleton” and “foolish sinner destined for Hell” if you disagreed with him. He was the one who spoke most often of John Bale.’ I wondered, did Vandersteyn know the English exile? As a Dutchman involved in the cross-Channel trade it was not impossible.

Myldmore went on. ‘The Scotchman, too, was an angry man, bitter, I think, at being thrown out of his own land. He could be frightening, big glowering man that he was. I think they treated him badly in his own country. I know he had a wife left behind there.’

‘And Leeman?’

‘The gentleman from Whitehall? I felt a brotherly spirit with him, for he was much worried, as I am, over the question of whether God had elected him for salvation. Like them all, Leeman was always talking about the coming of the End Time, as foretold in the Book of Revelation; how the Antichrist was about to come and we must be ready for judgement. I did not understand it all.’

The coming of the Antichrist prophesied in the Book of Revelation. It was another belief characteristic of the Anabaptists and other radical Protestants. Okedene had mentioned Bertano in that connection, and his name had been on the lips of Greening’s killers at the inn yesterday. I asked, as casually as I could, ‘Many have identified the Antichrist with a particular individual. Did the group ever mention a name?’

He looked genuinely puzzled. ‘No, sir.’

‘An Italian one, perhaps?’

‘The Pope, you mean? They mentioned the Pope only to curse him.’

I realized that if the group had decided this Bertano was the Antichrist they would not mention his name to someone they did not fully trust. I said quietly, ‘And this whole group has disappeared now. Why do you think that may be?’

A muscle in Myldmore’s cheek twitched for a moment. Then he said, ‘I think perhaps they have fled because of the book.’

I looked at his anguished, worried face. Then I took the plunge. ‘You mean the book which Michael Leeman took?’

He stared at me blankly. ‘Leeman? No, it was I who smuggled the book from the Tower and gave it to Greening. Anne Askew’s account of her examinations.’

For a moment my head span. We stared at each other. As calmly as I was able, I said, ‘Tell me about Anne Askew’s book, Thomas.’

He frowned. ‘Do you not know? I thought that was why you were at the Tower yesterday.’ He shifted in his seat, and for a moment I feared he might panic and run.

‘You are right,’ I lied. ‘I am concerned with Anne Askew’s book. But I was misinformed about who gave it to Greening.’ I continued calmly, ‘You have told me much, Thomas. Best tell me the rest now. I swear to you, I am no enemy.’

He looked at me again, then bent his head. ‘It seems I have no choice.’

I did not reply.

He took a deep breath, then he recounted the next part of his story in quiet, even tones, without looking up at me; his voice trembling occasionally so that I had to bend to catch his words.





Chapter Twenty-five


‘IT WAS ON THE twenty-ninth of June, a Tuesday. Three weeks ago, though it seems a year. Anne Askew and those three men had been condemned to death for heresy at the Guildhall the day before. Everyone was talking of it. We expected she would lie in Newgate prison with the others till she was taken to be burned. That afternoon I was on duty in the Tower, checking on the prisoners in the dungeons and giving food to those allowed it. Afterwards I went to report on how they fared to Master Howitson – you met him yesterday.’

‘Yes, I remember.’

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