Dark Fire

'I'm afraid of fighting nobody, but the balance of forces needs to be right. When I faced the northern rebels three years ago I hadn't enough men to meet them, so the king and I got them to disband their forces with sweet words. Then we hammered the churls.' He smiled coldly.

Marchamount leaned across. 'And we can't do that with the French and Spaniards.'

'I dare say not,' Cuffleigh agreed hesitantly.

'That's why we need peace. A half-baked alliance with a bunch of squabbling Germans is no use.'

Old Brother Fox leaned across to me. 'I see his grace is talking to the treasurer,' he said. 'You know, Thomas More refused the treasurership and was fined a pound. Ah, the king exacted a higher penalty when More refused to recognize Nan Bullen as queen.'

'Brother Cuffleigh looks a trifle anxious,' I said, to divert Brother Fox before he began his reminiscences of More's time at the Inn.

'Cuffleigh is a reformer and the duke loves baiting evangelicals.' Fox, a traditionalist, spoke with satisfaction. The duke was smiling coldly at the treasurer now. 'Not just apprentices,' I heard him say loudly. 'Even silly little women fancy they can read the Bible now and understand God's Word.' He laughed.

'It is permitted, your grace,' Cuffleigh replied weakly.

'It won't be for long. The king plans to restrict Bible-reading to heads of households. I'd restrict it further – I'd only permit it for the clergy. I've never read it and never will.'

All along the upper part of the tables, where the duke's words could be heard, men were looking at him, some approvingly and others with set faces. He glanced over the assembly with those bright, hard eyes and smiled cynically.

Then, before I could stop him, Godfrey rose in his place. All eyes turned to him as he took a deep breath, faced the duke, and said loudly, 'God's Word is for all to read. It is the bringer of the sweetest light there is, the light of truth.'

His words rang and echoed round the hall. All along the tables eyes widened. Norfolk leaned over, resting his chin on a beringed hand, and stared at Godfrey with cold amusement. I grabbed at the sleeve of his robe and tried to pull him down but he shook me off.

'The Bible brings us from error to truth, to the presence of Jesus Christ,' he continued. A couple of students clapped until furious glares from the Inn's officers scared them into silence. Godfrey reddened, as though he suddenly realized what an unforgivably bold thing he had done, but he went on. 'Were I to be killed for my beliefs, I would rise from the grave to proclaim the truth once more,' he said and then, to my relief, sat down.

The duke rose in his place. 'No, sir, you would not,' he said evenly. 'You would not, you would be screaming in hell with all the other Lutheran heretics. You should have a care, sir, that your tongue does not lose you your head and put you in the pit before your time.' He sat down again. Leaning over to Marchamount, who was glaring at Godfrey as though he could have slain him, he began whispering in his ear.

'Jesu, man, what were you thinking of?' I asked Godfrey. 'You'll be disciplined for this.'

He looked at me. His normally soft features had taken on a steely expression. 'I care not.' He almost spat the words. 'Jesus Christ is my Saviour, through grace, and I will not have His Word made mock of.' His eyes gleamed with self-righteous anger. I turned away. When his emotions were roused by his faith Godfrey could sometimes change into a different person, a dangerous one.

***

AT LAST THE MEAL ended. The duke and his retinue filed out and at once a buzz of conversation erupted. Godfrey sat there, taking satisfaction, it seemed to me, from a myriad stares. Some barristers, the traditionalists mostly, got up and left. Old Brother Fox, looking much disturbed, rose from his bench. I stood up too. Godfrey gave me a reproachful look.

'Will you stay a moment?' he asked. 'Or do you not wish to be associated with me any more?'

'God's wounds, Godfrey,' I snapped, 'I've work to do, a cartload of it. There are others in the world besides you. I have to see Bealknap before he disappears.' And indeed he was even now heading for the door. I hurried after him, catching him as he stepped into the sunny quadrangle, blinking in the light.

'Brother Bealknap,' I said crisply, 'I need to talk to you.'

'About the case?' He smiled. 'Your friend made a monkey of himself in there, by the way. He'll be disciplined -'

'It is not about the case, Bealknap. I have a commission, from Lord Cromwell. To investigate the murder yesterday of Michael Gristwood.'

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. If he was acting ignorance, it was a good performance. But lawyers can act better than any mummer in a mystery play.

'Your chambers, I think.'