Heartstone

'I have lost the art.'

She reached out her hand and laid it on mine. A soft, shapely hand, scented. Then she lifted it abruptly as a knock sounded on the door. She called, 'Enter,' and Warner ushered in Richard Rich, his sharp little head buried in the thick fur collar of his grey robe, gold chain of office round his neck. His hard little eyes swept the room. Then he saw me, his eyes widened and he stepped back. I thought, so Barak was right, you thought me dead. Rich staggered and might have fallen had Warner not grasped his thin little shoulders. Rich looked at the Queen, remembered where he was, and bowed deeply. The Queen stared at him with eyes as hard as his own.

'Sir Richard,' she said grimly, 'I see you believed Master Shard-lake dead.'

Rich brought himself under control. 'I heard he was on the Mary Rose, your majesty. They said only a few sailors and soldiers survived.'

The Queen spoke quietly, her eyes never leaving Rich's face. 'I know you sent him on board the Mary Rose, to be killed by the man West, who is dead now, and who for all his grievous faults at least tried to protect the life of the woman whose life you helped him ravage.'

Rich gave me a wolfish look. 'I do not know what this man has told you, your majesty, but he is my enemy. He will say aught—'

'I believe what he has said, Sir Richard. It makes sense, given the things I know you are capable of. The killing of the clerk Mylling—'

'He shut himself in that chamber—'

She continued as though he had not spoken. 'Your conspiracy with West to murder Master Shardlake, your allowing Emma Curteys to go on the Mary Rose, knowing who she was, I know everything, all the way back to the time you stole the King's letter to Anne Boleyn and took it to Catherine of Aragon—'

Rich licked his thin lips. He pointed at me. 'Nothing of this can be proved. West is dead—'

'His mother lives. She could testify that letter was stolen; there are not many left who were at court nineteen years ago, but there may be some who will remember you going with West. I could soon start an enquiry. And the King will certainly remember that letter—'

Rich's eye began twitching. 'Bring me a bible, your majesty. I will swear on it before you—'

'When did you sell your soul to the devil?' the Queen asked quietly.

Rich reddened, opened his mouth, then closed it hard, his pointed little chin jutting but the tic under his eye twitching again. The Queen said, 'Listen to me, Richard Rich. The woman Ellen Fettiplace, and Master West's mother, are now under my personal protection. As West is dead, I shall pay Ellen's fees at the Bedlam myself so long as she chooses to stay there. If anything happens to her, or to Matthew, I promise you on my oath—and my

oath is not made lightly—I shall tell the King all you have done, starting with your theft of that letter, which gave Catherine of Aragon notice he intended to divorce her.'

Rich said nothing. The Queen's face flushed with anger.

'Do you understand? Answer your Queen, churl!'

He said, very quietly, 'I understand, your majesty.'

'One thing more,' I added. My voice sounded thick from the hatred I felt for Rich. 'There is a will, that he tricked me into making. He has a copy. It must be destroyed.'

The Queen turned to Warner. 'Robert, Master Rich will bring the copy to you within the hour. You will personally destroy it.'

Rich looked at the Queen with hunted, twitching eyes. She stared him down. 'I will bring it,' he said.

'Good. Then get out of my sight. And stay out of it.'

Rich bowed, then began walking backwards out of the room. From the doorway he gave me a look. It told me plainly that if ever I found myself at his mercy again, I would die, slowly and painfully, while he watched.

As the door closed behind him I drew a deep breath. Warner, too, visibly relaxed. The Queen alone still stared angrily at the closed door.

* * *

WARNER TOOK Barak and me to the gate of Portchester Castle. He had not spoken, but as we parted he said quietly, 'Regarding Sir Quintin Priddis and his son, the Queen may want to act against them, but I shall argue against it. It would make these matters public and do no good to the Court of Wards. The King much values the profits it brings, and I do not want the Queen arguing with him.'

'I understand,' I said.

He took a deep breath. 'And after this I feel it might be safer if the Queen did not instruct you in any more cases.'

I nodded. 'Given where this one led?'

He spoke quietly. 'If you love her, as I do, you will leave her in peace now.'

'I agree, Master Warner. And I am sorry again that I accused you.'

He nodded, then reached out a hand. 'Goodbye, Matthew,' he said.

'Goodbye, Robert, and thank you.' I hesitated, 'Beware of Richard Rich. I fear I have made him into the Queen's enemy.'

'I will.'

Barak and I rode across the bridge over the moat. My eyes turned to the sea, then flickered away. I drew a deep breath.

'To Hoyland,' I said. 'Then home.'

We turned and rode away from Portchester Castle, away from the sea.