Revelation

'Yes. Do not forget my parents were moriscos, Moorish Spaniards made to leave Spain by the Inquisition. I too have seen the wildness that follows when fanatics without self-doubt gain power.' He looked at me gravely. 'But mark this. Whatever wrongs it has done, the Catholic Church has always believed in free will, that men by their actions as well as their faith may choose to come to God. This new Protestant radicalism will not allow for that, everyone is either saved or damned through God's will, not free will. They may pray to be saved once and for all, may feel they are saved once and for all, but for them it is God's decision, not man's. And so we have Adam Kite, who thinks that God will not have him.'

'And his wretched vicar, because he cannot cure him, believes he is possessed.'

'It is a way of explaining failure.'

'I never supported Luther on predestination, Guy. I was on Erasmus' side in their debate on free will.' I looked at him seriously. 'I saw a non-licensed preacher taken to St Paul's in sackcloth and ashes this morning. Bonner is going to crack down on the Protestants, and they will not take it quietly. It is not going to be a good time for outsiders.'

'Yes, you are right. With my dark face and monkish past, I am best to keep quiet and stay indoors when I can. And not talk too widely about the discoveries of Vesalius, still less this Polish scholar who says the earth goes round the sun. But what peace of mind is there even at home?' he added, so quietly I barely heard him. His face was suddenly full of pain and sadness.

'Are you all right, Guy?' I asked quietly. 'Have you some trouble of your own?'

'No.' He smiled. 'Only the aches and pains of old age. And I have had enough of wine and should go to bed.' He rose. 'Goodnight.'

'I shall tell Adam Kite's parents you will see them. They will be relieved.'

We shook hands and I left. I was glad we had parted on good terms after all. But I did not believe him when he said nothing was wrong.

Chapter Eight

NEXT MORNING I went to fetch Dorothy to accompany her to the inquest. She had not been out of doors since Roger's death, and I was worried about how she would cope. Crossing Gatehouse Court I saw that as at Westminster the fountain's underground valve had been turned and the water had come on; it splashed merrily into the huge bowl. The weather was still mild, the birds chirking in the trees. The world of nature was being reborn, though I could take no pleasure in it.

Dorothy sat in her chair by the fire, the faithful Margaret beside her. Both were dressed in deepest black and wore coifs with long black wings behind, the pale oval of Dorothy's face staring out starkly. I was reminded of that other mourner I had recently seen, Catherine Parr. Dorothy gave me a brave smile.

'Is it time? Yes. I see from your expression that it is.' She sighed, looking at the frieze above the fireplace. I followed her gaze. A weasel looked out at me from between thick wooden vines. 'How lifelike that is,' I said.

'Ay, Roger was so fond of it. He was displeased with the repair of that corner after it was damaged.'

'Are you sure you can bear this?' I asked, looking at her white face and sunken cheeks.

'Yes,' she said with a touch of her old firmness. 'I must see Roger's killer caught.'

'I will do the identification of the body, if you wish.'

'Thank you. That — that might be too much.'

'We shall take the boat to the Guildhall.'

'Good.' She hesitated, then asked suddenly, 'What are they saying, in the streets?'

'Just that there was a nasty murder here.'

'If I hear anyone speak badly of Roger I shall fly at them.'

'That's the way, mistress,' Margaret said approvingly. She helped Dorothy rise to her feet.

THE GREAT PILLARED vestibule of the London Guildhall was as busy as usual. Unusually, a pair of constables in city livery were posted by the door. Within, council and guild officials scuttled to and fro. Some glanced curiously at a large group of black-robed lawyers gathered in a corner. I recognized the stern face of Treasurer Rowland; the others were all Lincoln's Inn barristers — the jury. I was surprised that apart from Treasurer Rowland they were all very young; there was no one else there of any seniority. Some looked distinctly uneasy, as did the two students who had found the body and who stood on the fringe of the group. Guy stood a little apart, talking to Barak.

Dorothy looked at the crowd, hesitated, then moved to a bench by the wall. She sat, signalling Margaret to join her. 'We will wait here until the court opens,' she told me. 'I cannot face talking to anyone.'

'Very well.'

I crossed to Barak and Guy. 'Good day, Matthew,' Guy said. He looked across at Dorothy. 'Is that the poor widow? She is very pale.'

'It has cost her much to come today. But she is brave.'

'Yes, one senses strength beneath her suffering.' He nodded at Barak. 'Jack here has noticed something strange.'

'What?'