The Relic Murders

thought. You have seen Sir Hubert's strongbox, which contains the real Orb?' I nodded.
    'Well, last night, Theodosius sealed it with the Imperial seal. He outfoxed the King. If that box is opened again, and the seal broken, Egremont will know that a transfer has been made. The box will not be re-opened again: it is to be transported to Maleval Manor house near the Priory of St John.'
    I sat down and laughed. I just could imagine Henry's anger: that mad, fertile brain turning like a water wheel devising schemes and stratagems! If only the Great Beast had managed to have the replica in the metal box when Theodosius had fixed the seals, all would have been well. 'You can laugh. Shallot,' Agrippa declared. 'But the King is beside himself with fury. You see, he was wrong-footed and so was Berkeley. Berkeley had the replica in certain chemicals to take away any sheen and make it look older than it was.' 'But the replica is now ready?'
    'Yes, it's ready,' Benjamin replied. 'Tomorrow, Roger, we visit the King: he will give us our final instructions.' I groaned and patted my stomach. 'Master, why did you agree?'
    Benjamin gripped my hand. 'It was the only way, Roger. If I hadn't, you would have hanged!'

    'My dear, dear Roger! My beloved servant!'
    The Great Beast stood glowering down at me in his private chamber at Eltham Palace. He extended puffy fingers for me to kiss. I did so warily. Fat Henry loved to wear jewelled rings, and he was not above scoring a lip or knocking a tooth out of someone's mouth. Nevertheless, on that autumn morning, he seemed in fine fettle. He was dressed in a white brocaded jacket, stiffened and covered with jewels, and piped with ermine. He wore white hose and soft leather boots. Around his growing girth was a jewelled belt with a dagger hanging in a brocaded pouch. A quilted jacket of dark blue hung over his shoulders and a bejewelled bonnet of the same colour was on his dark red hair. Yet it was the face you watched.
    You are getting fatter, I thought, and more pig-like by the day! Henry's face was square and slightly swollen, the puffy red cheeks jutted up to high slanted eyes which could glare with all the hatred of a frenzied soul; he was strong jawed but with a woman's prim, pursed lips. I watched his eyes which were full of mockery. I think he would have liked to have taken my head and squashed it in his great fat paws. 'I am Your Grace's most faithful servant,' I stammered. Henry crouched down so he could stare into my eyes. 'Faithful Shallot, what were you doing in the cart on the way to Tyburn?' 'A misunderstanding. Your Grace.' 'A misunderstanding!'
    Henry got to his feet, smacking me playfully on the cheek. He turned to where Wolsey was sitting in a box chair next to the throne. Wolsey looked haggard, dressed in purple silk from head to toe: his black hair oiled and pulled to the back of his head. His face was lined with care, and there were deep pouches under those gleaming black eyes.
    The Cardinal lifted one gloved hand and quickly pressed a finger against his lips, a sign that I should be careful. You see, things had changed at court. Wolsey no longer regarded me as a fool. Indeed, in the last few months, the seeds of a deep friendship had been sown and I would stand by the great Cardinal when, like Lucifer, he fell from grace, never to rise again. The King, however, had forgotten me and had turned to Benjamin. This time his voice was free of sarcasm. He asked a series of short barbed questions about Venice: when my master gave him assurances that the Venetians would put galleys at his disposal, Henry smacked his hands and returned to sit on his throne.
    I stared across to where Agrippa stood in the shadows but the good doctor had his face turned away. I glanced round the chamber, which was fashioned in the Italian style: black and white tiles on the floor, light-coloured wainscoting against the wall. Above hung tapestries, and cloths of the same colour had been wound around the rafters. My knees were beginning to ache. I prayed the bastard would let us sit on the bench provided behind us. The Beast, however, was in one of his great statesmanlike moods, pondering strategy and subtle schemes. My gaze was caught by a spider which scuttled across the floor. I caught the Cardinal's faint smile and recalled the tale that, where he went, spiders followed.
    (I don't joke – at Hampton Court, at least when it was owned by Wolsey, the place crawled with them.) 'You may sit,' Henry