Heartstone (Matthew Shardlake #5)(4)

Barak gave me a penetrating look. ‘You’ve become too ready to see madness in people. It’s because you give so much time to Ellen Fettiplace. Have you answered her latest message?’

I made an impatient gesture. ‘Let’s not go over that again. I have, and I will go to the Bedlam tomorrow.’

‘Bedlamite she may be, but she plays you like a fisherman pulling on a line.’ Barak looked at me seriously. ‘You know why.’

I changed the subject. ‘I went for a walk earlier. There was a View of Arms in Lincoln’s Inn Fields. The officer was threatening to make pikemen of those who hadn’t been practising their archery.’

Barak answered contemptuously, ‘They know as well as anyone that only those who like archery practise it regularly, for all the laws the King makes. It’s hard work and you’ve got to keep at it to be any good.’ He gave me a serious look. ‘It’s no good making laws too unpopular to be enforced. Lord Cromwell knew that, he knew where to draw the line.’

‘They’re enforcing this. I’ve never seen anything like it before. And yesterday I saw the constables sweeping the streets for the beggars and vagabonds the King’s ordered to be sent to row on the galleasses. Have you heard the latest word – that French troops have landed in Scotland and the Scots are ready to fall on us too?’

‘The latest word,’ Barak repeated scoffingly. ‘Who sets these stories running about the French and Scots about to invade? The King’s officials, that’s who. Maybe to stop the people rebelling like they did in ’36. Against the taxes and the debasement of the currency. Here, look at this.’ His hand went to his purse. He took out a little silver coin and smacked it down on the desk. I picked it up. The King’s fat jowly face stared up at me.

‘One of the new shilling coins,’ Barak said. ‘A testoon.’

‘I haven’t seen one before.’

‘Tamasin went shopping with Goodwife Marris yesterday in Cheapside. There’s plenty there. Look at its dull colour. The silver’s so adulterated with copper they’ll only give eightpence worth of goods for it. Prices for bread and meat are going through the roof. Not that there is much bread, with so much being requisitioned for the army.’ Barak’s brown eyes flashed angrily. ‘And where’s the extra silver gone? To repay those German bankers who lent the King money for the war.’

‘You really think there may be no French invasion fleet at all?’

‘Maybe. I don’t know.’ He hesitated, then said suddenly, ‘I think they’re trying to get me for the army.’

‘What?’ I sat bolt upright.

‘The constable was going round all the houses in the ward last Friday with some soldier, registering all men of military age. I told them I’d a wife and a child on the way. The soldier said I looked a fit man. I flipped my fingers at him and told him to piss off. Trouble is Tamasin told me he came back yesterday. She saw him through the window and didn’t answer the door.’

I sighed. ‘Your over-confidence will be the end of you one day.’

‘That’s what Tamasin says. But they’re not taking married man with children. Or at least, not many.’

‘The powers that be are serious. I think there is going to be an invasion attempt, or why recruit all these thousands of soldiers? You should take care.’

Barak looked mutinous. ‘None of this would be happening if the King hadn’t invaded France last year. Forty thousand men sent over the Channel, and what happened? We were sent running back with our tails between our legs, except for the poor sods besieged in Boulogne. Everyone says we should cut our losses, abandon Boulogne and make peace, but the King won’t. Not our Harry.’

‘I know. I agree.’

‘Remember last autumn, the soldiers back from France lying in rags, plague-ridden, on all the roads to the city?’ His face set hard. ‘Well, that won’t happen to me.’

I looked at my assistant. There had been a time when Barak might have seen war as an adventure. But not now. ‘What did this soldier look like?’

‘Big fellow your age with a black beard, done up in a London Trained Bands uniform. Looked as if he’d seen service.’

‘He was in charge of the View of Arms. I’d guess a professional officer. No man to cross, I’d say.’

‘Well, if he’s viewing all the mustered men, hopefully he’ll be too busy to bother any more with me.’

‘I hope so. If he does return, you must come to me.’

‘Thank you,’ he said quietly.

I reached for the letter on the corner of my desk. ‘In return, I’d like your view on this.’ I handed it to him.

‘Not another message from Ellen?’

‘Look at the seal. It’s one you’ve seen before.’

He looked up. ‘The Queen’s. Is it from Master Warner? Another case?’

‘Read it.’ I hesitated. ‘It worries me.’

Barak unfolded the letter, and read aloud.

‘I would welcome your personal counsel on a case, a private matter. I invite you to attend me here at Hampton Court, at three o’clock tomorrow afternoon.’

‘It’s signed—’

‘I know. Catherine the Queen, not lawyer Warner.’