I looked at my companions. Philip sat composed, hands on his lap. He caught my eye. ‘Courage, Brother,’ he said with a quick smile. It was what I had said to him when he grew faint at Anne Askew’s burning. I nodded in acknowledgement. Edward Cotterstoke stared vacantly at the great facade of polished windows, his face like chalk. It was as though the full seriousness of his position had only just sunk in.
The boat halted at the long pavilion at the end of the Royal Stairs, green-and-white Tudor flags fluttering on the roof. We climbed stone steps thick with the dirty green moss of the river, then a door in the pavilion was opened by a guard and we were led into the long gallery connecting the boathouse to the palace, fitted out with tapestries of river scenes. We were hustled along the full length of the pavilion, past more servants carrying household goods, then into the palace itself. We found ourselves in a place I recognized, the vestibule which formed the juncture of the Royal Stairs with three other sets of double doors, all guarded. I remembered that one led to the Queen’s Gallery, the second to the Queen’s privy lodgings and the third to the King’s. It was the third door which was now opened to us by the guards. A servant carrying a decorated vase almost as large as himself nearly collided with me as he emerged, and one of our guards cursed him. We were marched quickly to a small door, the lintel decorated with elaborate scrollwork, and told we would wait inside until the council was ready. It was a bare little chamber stripped of furniture, but with a magnificent view of the gardens. A few minutes later an inner door opened and we were called into the council chamber itself.
PAGET BEGAN BY GETTING each of us to confirm our names and swear on a Testament to tell the truth before God, as though we were in court. They had that power. Then he said, with a note of heavy reproval which, I suspected from long dealings with judges, was intended to intimidate us, ‘You are all charged with heresy, denial of the Real Presence of the body and blood of Christ in the Mass, under the Act of 1539. What do you say?’
‘Sirs,’ I said, surprised by the strength in my own voice, ‘I am no heretic.’
Philip answered with a lawyer’s care, ‘I have never breached the Act.’
Edward Cotterstoke closed his eyes and I wondered if he might collapse. But he opened them again, looked straight at Paget, and said quietly, ‘Nor I.’
Bishop Gardiner leaned across the table, pointing a stubby finger at me. ‘Master Shardlake uses words similar to those his former master Cromwell employed when he was arrested at this very table. I remember.’ He gave a contemptuous laugh. ‘Parliament found differently. And so may the City of London court, if we decide to send them there!’
Paget glanced at Gardiner, raising a hand. The Bishop sat back, scowling, and Paget said, more mildly, ‘We have a couple of questions which apply only to you, Master Shardlake.’
He nodded to Wriothesley, who leaned forward, his little red beard jutting forward aggressively. ‘I understand you were recently sworn to the Queen’s Learned Council.’
‘Yes, Lord Chancellor. Temporarily.’
‘Why?’
I took a deep breath. ‘To investigate the theft of a most precious ring from the Queen’s chambers. Bequeathed to her majesty by her late stepdaughter, Margaret Neville.’ I was horribly aware that I was lying through my teeth. But to do otherwise meant revealing what I had actually been looking for and causing grave danger to others. I glanced at Lord Hertford and William Parr. Neither returned my look. I swallowed and my heart quickened. I had feared the floor might seem to tremble and shake beneath me but it had not, yet.
‘A rare and precious object,’ Wriothesley said, a note of mockery in his voice. ‘But you have not found it?’
‘No, my lord. And so I have resigned my position.’
Wriothesley nodded, the little red beard bobbing up and down. ‘I understand there have been several sudden vacancies in the Queen’s household. Two senior guards, a carpenter, Master Cecil who now serves the Earl of Hertford. Most mysterious.’ He shrugged. I wondered whether he was fishing or had just noted these changes and wondered if they were more than coincidence.
Then Richard Rich spoke, looking not at me but down at his clasped hands. ‘Lord Chancellor, these domestic matters are not part of the accusations. Master Shardlake has advised the Queen on legal matters for several years.’ Rich turned to look at Wriothesley. I realized with relief that his own involvement in my investigations meant it was in his interests to help me. Wriothesley looked puzzled by his intervention.
Gardiner knitted his thick black brows further, glowering at Rich. ‘If this man – ’ he waved at me – ‘and his confederates are under a charge of heresy, any links to her majesty must surely concern this council.’