The Relic Murders

bastard loved to bait me!

    'A man has to take a fox, a chicken and a bowl of grain across the Thames. His boat can only take the man and the fox or the man and the chicken or the man and the bowl of grain at any one time. If he takes the grain, the fox will eat the chicken. If he takes the fox, the chicken will eat the grain. How does he get all three across?'
    Henry took a sweetmeat from a bowl on the table beside him then wandered across to wipe his fingers on my hair.
    'Now, if you can't solve it, Roger,' he declared, 'you'll have to be punished. But if you can -' he pushed my head back and glared down at me '- you'll win a prize. Now, let that be a warning.' His voice fell to a whisper. 'Never, never, mention my son again!'
    The King swept out of the room. We sat in silence. From the door behind me I could hear those bloody dogs still scrabbling and growling.
    'The King is vexed,' Wolsey declared. He breathed in noisily through his fleshy nose and glanced pityingly at me. 'Shallot, if you have a brain in your head, I would advise you to solve that riddle.' He clapped his hands. 'But enough is enough, we have business in hand. Doctor Agrippa, bring in Theodosius, Lord of Egremont.'
    I was about to ask my master if he had any possible solution to the riddle when Egremont strode into the room. The light of day did nothing to improve my judgement of him. He was the same lean-visaged, cruel-eyed man I had glimpsed in Berkeley's house. A wolf in looks and a wolf in nature: he stood, legs apart, surveying us all. A quick curl of the lip left us in no illusion as to what he thought of Benjamin and myself. Beside him Sir Thomas Kempe looked like a stick next to an oak: a small, jovial-faced man with sandy, thinning hair. He was dressed in a dark-green doublet and hose with a cloak of dark murrey, a broad leather sword-belt clasped around his waist. He kissed the Cardinal's ring and made his own blunt introductions to Benjamin and myself. Of course, we had met before but I was not taken in. A native of Yorkshire, Kempe prided himself on his directness and honesty, but only a fool believed this. Kempe's eyes betrayed his soul; dark, black and cold as marble.
    Three other men had followed them in. At first I thought they were friars: their heads were shaved and they were dressed in brown gowns which fell just below the knee, with leggings of the same colour pushed into black, high-heeled riding boots. Yet they were not friars. Oh no, not these three lovelies! Leather baldrics hung from their shoulders, each had at least three dagger pouches containing throwing knives. Around their waists were thick black belts with dagger and sword pushed through loops. They didn't swagger, they moved with menace, hands pushed up the voluminous sleeves of their gowns. They bowed very low towards Wolsey, gazed curiously at Agrippa and, with a nod of their heads, acknowledged us. Egremont deliberately allowed us to study them carefully. It was the leader who fascinated me. He was broad and square-faced, with hooded eyes, a sharp, thin nose slightly broken, lips fleshy and full, slightly open as if ready to challenge whatever we said or did.
    "This is Cornelius.' Egremont's voice was soft, his English was good, only the slight roll on the ‘r’ betrayed his foreign origin.
    'He is a member of my entourage. A special envoy from the Emperor.'
    'And leader of the Noctales?' Agrippa broke in. 'The Men of the Night.'
    'Ah yes.' Egremont's face broke into a lopsided grin. 'There are so many legends about these.'
    'And they are all true.' Cornelius spoke up, his gaze fastened on me as if inviting contradiction. I just swallowed hard and hoped I didn't start belching, a sign that I was highly nervous. Cornelius took a hand from his gown. I glimpsed the black diamond fixed into the ring that he wore on his little finger.
    'Everything they say about us,' he declared, has voice soft, almost dreamlike, 'is true!'
    (By the way, have you noticed, as I have in my long and varied life, how foreigners speak better English than we do? I blame our teachers: they all need a damn good thrashing!)
    'There's no need to bring your guards to England.' Wolsey's voice was a harsh rebuke.
    'I'm not here because the Lord Egremont asked me to be here,' Cornelius retorted.
    A flicker of annoyance crossed Theodosius's face. Oh dear, dear, I thought, so there's division in the visitors' camp.
    'I am here,' Cornelius continued, 'because His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor