As I watched, a group of guards exited the ornate door of the King’s Guard Chamber and took up places before it. Then another group, Gentlemen Pensioners in their black livery decorated with gold, marched out with their halberds. Then came the King. As he was on the side nearest to me, I could only catch a glimpse of the Queen on the other side of that vast bulk, a quick view of a brightly coloured dress. Those who wore caps took them off and then loud cheers erupted from the crowd.
I looked at Henry. Today he was dressed in formal finery: a long cream satin robe with broad padded shoulders furred with marten. He looked slightly less obese than when I had seen him last, and I wondered if he was corseted, as he was said to be when he went abroad in public. Those huge bandaged legs were covered with black hose. He walked very stiffly, leaning on a thick, gold-headed walking stick, his other arm through that of a Gentleman Pensioner.
The King walked round the courtyard and turned to smile at the crowd, at one point doffing his black cap embossed with little diamonds. I saw, though, how his lips were clenched together and sweat stood out on his red brow and cheeks. I could not help but admire his courage in still presenting himself to his public as a man who could walk. It must cost him great pain. He doffed his cap once more, his little eyes darting round the courtyard, and for a moment I thought they rested on me. He passed on slowly, down the other side of the courtyard and in through the doorway of the Great Hall. Senior officials and councillors followed: I saw the stern bearded face of Paget; thin-faced, red-bearded Wriothesley; the red-robed Duke of Norfolk in the procession.
‘I thought he looked at me for a second,’ I whispered to Cecil.
‘I didn’t see. I should think he was concentrating on keeping his feet. They’ll put him in his wheeled chair as soon as he’s out of sight.’ He shook his head sadly.
‘How long can he go on?’ I asked.
Cecil frowned and leaned in close. ‘Do not forget, Master Shardlake, it is treason to foretell the death of the King. In any way.’
I AGREED WITH CECIL that I would contact him again as soon as I had spoken with Stice. Once more I took a wherry to Temple Stairs, envying those citizens who, church over, had taken a boat onto the river to enjoy the sunshine. I walked to the narrow lanes off Amen Corner where I knew Nicholas lodged.
A young man who looked like another student answered my knock. He seemed a little reluctant to take me to Nicholas. ‘Are you his pupil-master?’ he asked.
‘I am.’
He said warily, ‘Nick’s been in a fight. He won’t say what happened, but I’m sure it’s not his fault – ’
‘I know about it. And no, it wasn’t his fault.’
The student took me up a flight of stairs and knocked on a door. Nicholas answered. He was in his shirt, the strings untied, showing the line of the bandage across his chest. The bruises on his face had come out yellow and black. He made a sorry sight.
‘How are you?’ I asked.
‘It looks worse than it is, sir. And my chest is healing well.’
I followed him into an untidy room thick with dust, unwashed plates on the table, law books scattered about. It took me back to my own student days a quarter-century before; though I had been tidier than this. Nicholas evidently lodged alone, as I had. But whereas my father had not been wealthy enough to send a servant with me, Nicholas’s father had chosen not to; another sign, no doubt, of his disapproval. He invited me to take the only chair, while he sat on the unmade bed. I studied him thoughtfully. He had courage and intelligence, but also the reckless bravado of the young. But of his trustworthiness I felt certain now.
I said, ‘Nicholas, you saw last night that the matter I am involved in concerns the highest in the land. The one I am working for is of even higher status than Rich.’
His eyes widened. ‘The King himself?’
‘No, not that high. Nicholas, you spoke to me once about the religious quarrels that ravage this country. You said you wish to steer clear of it all, to be left alone and have others left alone. That is my wish, too. But what I am working on now concerns a struggle at court. On the one side are those who would keep the Mass, and in some cases perhaps bring back the Pope. On the other, those who would end what Catholic ceremonies remain. Involvement in that struggle can end in torture, murder and burning. For some, it already has.’
He fell silent. I could see my words had impressed him. ‘You still have not told me who you are working for,’ he said at length.
‘Nor can I, unless you swear an oath of secrecy.’
‘Is Jack working with you?’
‘Yes. He insists.’
‘And you need more help?’
‘Yes.’
He smiled sadly. ‘Nobody has ever asked for my help before.’
‘I say in all honesty, it may be better for you to stay out. Not because I doubt your courage or loyalty, but because of the danger. As I said last night, I can arrange for you to work for another barrister. Nicholas, you should not just think of yourself. Consider your parents, your inheritance, your future as a gentleman.’ I smiled, thinking that would get through to him as nothing else could.