Revelation

'The man we are after has a religion all his own,' I said grimly.

'You are sure he is still there now?' Harsnet asked.

'Oh, yes. The man I have watching sent a message half an hour ago saying there were lights at a window.'

Russell stood up. 'I hear horses. Somebody is coming.'

We all turned to the door as it opened, and Sir Thomas entered with four more armed servants. Dean Benson was with him as well, wrapped up against the cold in a heavy dark coat, looking miserable and afraid. Like Russell's men, Sir Thomas' new servants were soberly dressed, but Sir Thomas himself wore a cap with a red feather, a doublet sewn with little pearls and silk gloves.

He smiled at the company. 'Well,' he said. 'We are all here now. The dean here took some persuading, but he came.' He made a mock bow to Benson. 'Perhaps we can promise you some excitement.' The dean did not reply, but gave him an angry look. Sir Thomas laughed. He strode towards the map, studying it with professional interest. The steward explained the layout of Goddard's house. Sir Thomas thought a moment then turned to the company. 'We shall go in as soon as it is light. We have sixteen men now, a goodly number.' He looked round the room. 'Are you ready to storm this villain's citadel?' he asked.

'Yes, Sir Thomas!' The reply came in a chorus. Harsnet and I exchanged glances. These men did not realize what they might be facing.

The magistrate called the innkeeper and asked him to prepare some breakfast. It was only bread and cheese but it was welcome after the long journey. As we breakfasted a man came with a message that smoke was still coming from Goddard's chimney.

'All night?' I asked.

'Yes, sir.'

'That's strange,' Russell said. 'He's waiting for us,' I said quietly.

AFTER WE HAD eaten there was nothing to do but wait for dawn. We all fell silent. Dean Benson sat by himself, pretending to read a book that trembled in his plump hands. Some of Sir Thomas' men closed their eyes to catch a little rest while they could; Barak too. I was too tense; I sat instead and looked out of the window. At length the light began to change, the sky outlined in dark grey instead of black. I heard the birdsong begin, a few cheeps at first then growing louder. Russell looked enquiringly at Sir Thomas. He nodded, and stood. Men who were awake nudged their dozing comrades. I could feel the tension rising around the room.

'Time to go in,' Sir Thomas said. 'Come, all of you, look at this plan.'

When we were all gathered round the table, Sir Thomas pointed with a gloved hand at the rough-drawn map. 'I'll post eight men around the house, in the woods. The rest go into the house, with me. And you, young Barak.' He turned to where I stood, the first notice he had taken of me. 'Also you, master crookback, I want you to go in too. Goddard has shown great interest in you.'

'Very well,' I said quietly. My heart raced.

'Coroner Harsnet, come with us, but I do not want you to go into the house. Magistrate Goodridge, I would like you to lead us there. You know the way. Dean Benson, you can keep your fat little rump on this chair here.'

The dean's shoulders sagged with relief.

Outside, a couple of pails had been set in the yard. They were full of mud. At Russell's request we all blackened our faces with the stuff, that we might not be seen while we were watching the house. As we went outside I heard the steward suggest to Sir Thomas that perhaps he should cover his fine clothes with a cloak. He acquiesced with a sigh, putting on a cloak fetched from the innkeeper. As I blackened my face I saw him look at the rough material with disgust. I thought, how many men of high estate are protected from their foolishness by their servants. Sir Thomas scowled as he caught me watching him. I thought, why does he dislike me so? Perhaps I offended his ideals of what a man should be and should look like, as once I had offended the King.

WE SET OFF along the country lanes as the sun rose over the fields, revealing trees dusted with the light green of new leaves. A woman passed through a cattle meadow with pails hanging from a shoulder harness, milking the fat kine that gave the village its name. Wood-smoke rose from some of the poor houses dotted along the lanes, but no one was out ploughing or sowing yet. The woman stared in astonishment at the troop of armed men.

'There'll be gossip in the village soon,' Barak said.

We arrived at length at a stretch of woodland. The house was set in a little hollow in the middle; we caught a glimpse of it before descending into the trees. In the early light I saw an old manor house of white stone. A plume of smoke rose from one of the tall brick chimneys. Russell whispered to his men to move through the wood as quietly as possible.