from a master of observation.’ He turned bleak eyes on me again. ‘Matthew, you must help me solve
this.’
‘But, my lord—’
‘I can’t tell anyone else,’ he said with sudden passion. ‘I daren’t. If it got to the king—’ He sighed, a shuddering sound. It was the first time I had
seen Thomas Cromwell afraid.
‘You must solve this,’ he repeated. ‘You can have any authority, any resources.’
I stood on the fine carpet, my heart thudding. Once before he had sent me to investigate a killing, pitching me into horrors beyond imagining. Not again, I thought. Not again.
He seemed to read my mind and sudden anger flashed in his eyes. ‘Christ’s wounds, man,’ he snapped. ‘I’ve saved that girl’s life for you. Or at least
I’ll save it if you help me; Forbizer can be made to change his mind again if need be. My own life could be at stake here as well as everything you once believed in.’ I had a momentary
vision of Elizabeth, lying blank-eyed in her cell. And I knew that at a word from Cromwell I could be flung in gaol too, for knowing too much.
‘I will help, my lord,’ I said quietly.
He looked at me for a long moment, then gestured to Barak. ‘Jack, the Bible. Before I tell you more, Matthew, I must have your oath to keep this matter secret.’
Barak laid a luxury edition of the new Great Bible, which had been ordered to be set in every church, upon the desk. I looked at the brightly coloured title page: King Henry on his throne,
handing copies of God’s Word to Cromwell on one side, Archbishop Cranmer on the other, who in turn passed them down to the people. I swallowed and touched the book.
‘I swear I will keep the matter of Greek Fire privy,’ Cromwell said. I repeated the words, feeling I was turning a key in a set of fetters that bound me to him again.
‘And help me to the best of your ability.’
‘To the best of my ability.’
Cromwell gave a satisfied nod, though he still sat hunched over his desk like some great beast at bay. He picked something up and turned it over in his big hands: it was the miniature portrait
he had had at the Domus.
‘The reformist cause is tottering, Matthew.’ He spoke quietly. ‘It’s even worse than the rumours say. The king’s afraid and grows more afraid every day as Norfolk
and Bishop Gardiner tip their poison in his ear. Afraid of common people reading the Bible, fearing they’ll end by overthrowing the social order in bloody chaos like the Anabaptists at
Münster. Radical reformers stand in danger of the fire – you know Robert Barnes is under arrest?’
‘I had heard.’ I took a deep breath; I did not want to hear this.
‘The Act of Six Articles the king forced through last year takes us halfway back to Rome and now he wants the lower classes forbidden from reading the Bible. And he’s afraid of
invasion.’
‘Our defences—’
‘Could never withstand a combined onslaught by France and Spain. King Francis and Emperor Charles have quarrelled and the threat’s over for now, but things could change again.’
He took the miniature and laid it on top of the Bible. ‘Do you still paint, Matthew, for a pastime?’
I looked at him, puzzled by his change of tack. ‘Not for some time, my lord.’
‘Give me your opinion of this portrait.’
I studied it. The woman was young, with attractive if vacuous features. The image was so clear you could imagine you were looking through a window at her. From the jewels set in her elaborate
hood and in the collar of her high-cut dress she was someone of wealth.
‘This is beautiful,’ I said. ‘It could almost be by Holbein.’
‘It
is
by Holbein. It is the Lady Anne of Cleves, now our queen. I kept it when the king threw it in my face.’ He shook his head. ‘I thought I could shore up our
defences and our reformed faith at the same time by marrying the king to the daughter of a German duke.’ He gave a short, bitter laugh. ‘I spent two years after Queen Jane
this.’
‘But, my lord—’
‘I can’t tell anyone else,’ he said with sudden passion. ‘I daren’t. If it got to the king—’ He sighed, a shuddering sound. It was the first time I had
seen Thomas Cromwell afraid.
‘You must solve this,’ he repeated. ‘You can have any authority, any resources.’
I stood on the fine carpet, my heart thudding. Once before he had sent me to investigate a killing, pitching me into horrors beyond imagining. Not again, I thought. Not again.
He seemed to read my mind and sudden anger flashed in his eyes. ‘Christ’s wounds, man,’ he snapped. ‘I’ve saved that girl’s life for you. Or at least
I’ll save it if you help me; Forbizer can be made to change his mind again if need be. My own life could be at stake here as well as everything you once believed in.’ I had a momentary
vision of Elizabeth, lying blank-eyed in her cell. And I knew that at a word from Cromwell I could be flung in gaol too, for knowing too much.
‘I will help, my lord,’ I said quietly.
He looked at me for a long moment, then gestured to Barak. ‘Jack, the Bible. Before I tell you more, Matthew, I must have your oath to keep this matter secret.’
Barak laid a luxury edition of the new Great Bible, which had been ordered to be set in every church, upon the desk. I looked at the brightly coloured title page: King Henry on his throne,
handing copies of God’s Word to Cromwell on one side, Archbishop Cranmer on the other, who in turn passed them down to the people. I swallowed and touched the book.
‘I swear I will keep the matter of Greek Fire privy,’ Cromwell said. I repeated the words, feeling I was turning a key in a set of fetters that bound me to him again.
‘And help me to the best of your ability.’
‘To the best of my ability.’
Cromwell gave a satisfied nod, though he still sat hunched over his desk like some great beast at bay. He picked something up and turned it over in his big hands: it was the miniature portrait
he had had at the Domus.
‘The reformist cause is tottering, Matthew.’ He spoke quietly. ‘It’s even worse than the rumours say. The king’s afraid and grows more afraid every day as Norfolk
and Bishop Gardiner tip their poison in his ear. Afraid of common people reading the Bible, fearing they’ll end by overthrowing the social order in bloody chaos like the Anabaptists at
Münster. Radical reformers stand in danger of the fire – you know Robert Barnes is under arrest?’
‘I had heard.’ I took a deep breath; I did not want to hear this.
‘The Act of Six Articles the king forced through last year takes us halfway back to Rome and now he wants the lower classes forbidden from reading the Bible. And he’s afraid of
invasion.’
‘Our defences—’
‘Could never withstand a combined onslaught by France and Spain. King Francis and Emperor Charles have quarrelled and the threat’s over for now, but things could change again.’
He took the miniature and laid it on top of the Bible. ‘Do you still paint, Matthew, for a pastime?’
I looked at him, puzzled by his change of tack. ‘Not for some time, my lord.’
‘Give me your opinion of this portrait.’
I studied it. The woman was young, with attractive if vacuous features. The image was so clear you could imagine you were looking through a window at her. From the jewels set in her elaborate
hood and in the collar of her high-cut dress she was someone of wealth.
‘This is beautiful,’ I said. ‘It could almost be by Holbein.’
‘It
is
by Holbein. It is the Lady Anne of Cleves, now our queen. I kept it when the king threw it in my face.’ He shook his head. ‘I thought I could shore up our
defences and our reformed faith at the same time by marrying the king to the daughter of a German duke.’ He gave a short, bitter laugh. ‘I spent two years after Queen Jane
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