Heartstone

'Good morning, Serjeant Shardlake,' Carver said heartily. 'I am sorry to hear of your clerk's problem.' He turned to the soldier. 'Master Goodryke wished to be here, as the matter concerns him.' The officer's heavy brows drew together in a frown.

'Your man was impertinent, sir,' he said. 'His behaviour was a defiance of the King's authority. He does not possess a bow and did not even pretend to have been practising.'

'That seems to be true of many,' I answered mildly.

'It is no excuse. I'm told by the constable this Barak is of Jewish stock; perhaps that's why he shows no loyalty to England when we're about to be invaded.'

I thought, so that story's got round. I forced a smile. 'Barak can be—a little disrespectful. But he is a loyal Englishman; he worked for years for Lord Cromwell.'

'Who was executed for treason,' Goodryke countered sharply. 'I don't see any reason this man should be exempted because he used to work for a traitor.' He tilted his chin at me aggressively.

I tried again. 'He has things on his mind. His wife has a baby due in a few weeks, and they lost the last one.'

Alderman Carver nodded, looked sad. 'Ah, that is hard. Is it not, Master Goodryke?'

Goodryke was unmoved. 'He flicked his fingers at me and told me to piss off, as though I were any common churl and he could shirk his duty where he liked. Many of the soldiers I've seen are unfit for service, but he seems a good strong fellow. He could make a pikeman.'

'Well,' I said quietly, 'can we not come to some arrangement?'

'Yes,' Carver agreed eagerly. 'Master Shardlake has acted for the Guildhall many times, I can vouch for him. And I have seen this Barak, he must be in his thirties now. Old for service. If you could show latitude I am sure Serjeant Shardlake would be willing to show his appreciation. Some contribution to your company, perhaps—'

Goodryke reddened even further. 'This is not about money,' he said in a stern voice, causing passing merchants to turn and stare. 'That man is eligible to be called into service and needs to be taught discipline and loyalty.'

Carver bit his lip and looked at me. 'Serjeant Shardlake,' he said, 'perhaps we could have a little word, if Master Goodryke will allow us.' Goodryke shrugged, and Carver took my arm and led me to a corner.

'I miscalculated there,' he said. 'I thought he might be bought off. But Goodryke is a fierce fellow, he's got the bit between his teeth. He has been a whiffler for many years—'

'A what?'

'A junior officer in charge of training and discipline in military companies. He retired from the army, but joined the Trained Bands. He was only a watchman before and he is jealous of the authority the war has returned to him. He believes Barak has dishonoured our forces.'

'Alderman, the welfare of Barak and his wife are important to me. If you can resolve this I would be happy to contribute a goodly sum to Goodryke's company, though heaven knows I have little enough free cash with the next instalment of the Benevolence due.'

'Leave it with me.'

'Thank you.'

'I have not forgotten how you won those lands my cousin claimed from me, against the odds.' Carver raised his eyebrows. 'And I know how Barak must feel, the army wants gentlemen to be captains of companies and they asked me to lead a company of London men. I managed to persuade them I would be of no use. I'll talk to Goodryke's superiors. I know you get cases from the Queen: can I mention that?'

I hesitated, for I did not like to use the Queen's name too readily. But I nodded.

'As for Barak, make sure he doesn't get into any more trouble. I'll send a message as soon as I have news.'

'Thank you.'

Carver lowered his voice. 'I saw you looking on at the muster on Tuesday. To be honest I felt a fool sitting on that horse. This war—all because the King wants to hold Boulogne, which has no value.'

I nodded in agreement. 'Indeed. Do what you can, sir. Please.' I turned away, nodding to Goodryke. He barely acknowledged me.

* * *

I WALKED the short distance to Fall Lane. It was off Basinghall Street. London Wall and the high towers of the Moorgate were visible at a little distance. The houses were prosperous looking, with fine windows of mullioned glass and beautifully carved doorposts, backing onto the wide gardens of Drapers' Hall. A merchant's wife walked past, accompanied by two armed servants, a cloth vizard covering her face.

A small old church stood at the top of the lane. I saw the pointed steeple with its gleaming weathercock was new; this was a wealthy parish. Barak sat on the wall by the lych gate, looking pensive. He stood as I approached. 'The verger says Vicar Broughton will be along shortly,' he told me, then added, 'what news?'

I told him of my encounter with Goodryke. His face fell when he realized the matter was not resolved. 'Tammy will have my guts.'

'Alderman Carver will do what he can. He's on our side. The Common Council is weary of the King's endless calls for them to raise more men. But they haven't forgotten what happened to Alderman Read.'