Tombland

Josephine returned with Dr Belys, who had treated Toby after our fight with the twins, his sharp-featured face serious. With a curtsey, Josephine took up Mousy and left the room. Belys raised a hand. ‘Do not move your back, or you will hurt yourself.’

Gripped with a sudden terror, I said, ‘Will I be able to walk again?’

‘Certainly, certainly.’ He smiled. ‘You were lucky, you could have broken your spine, but God must have you in his view, for you only damaged the soft tissues of your upper back. For now they are stiff as a board. But soon, if you do as I say, you should be up and about again. I examined you thoroughly while you were unconscious. Fortunately for you, I have made a specialism of bone and muscle ailments.’

‘You have?’

‘I like their – practicality, shall we say, compared to some of my colleagues’ weird potions.’

‘How long have I been unconscious?’

‘Near a day. It is Saturday morning. But you have not fractured your skull, only given it a nasty jolt when you fell. There was much blood, as always with scalp wounds. The crowd thought you dead.’ The doctor reached for a pitcher of small beer on the table by my bed, and made me drink slowly. Then he sat, put his hands on his knees and, looking serious, said, ‘You have made yourself the talk of Norwich.’

‘Josephine said Boleyn lives –’

‘Yes, when the executioner pulled you away and you fell off the scaffold, your young colleague held Boleyn up, saved him from strangling. I am told Master Overton was screaming at the executioner that he had killed you, that there was a pardon, and he would end up being hanged himself.’ Dr Belys looked at me seriously again. ‘Had you landed slightly differently, you could have smashed your spine, and never walked again.’ He let that sink in. ‘The executioner took Boleyn down, and he has been returned to Norwich Castle. He cannot speak yet, and has nasty compression marks on his throat, but he is safe. His wife asked me to attend him too.’

‘And the others hanging? Those still waiting in the carts?’

‘All the other executions went ahead, of course.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘The commons say the gentleman they had come to see hanged was saved by legal artifice, but the poor folk all died.’

‘There is truth in what they say.’

He gave me a sidelong look, then changed the subject. ‘You are lucky you have such good friends. Master Overton contacted Goodman Barak and Goodwife Brown, and the three of them have been taking turns to sit with you. Now, the spasms will ease, but only if you move slowly and carefully, and you must stay in bed at least a day. Tomorrow, or the day after, you may get up. I like my patients up and about as soon as possible. Meanwhile, with my approval, Master Overton has written to your doctor in London.’

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘I think you and Guy might like each other. Have you read Vesalius on anatomy?’

‘I have a copy.’

‘So does Guy. Thank you, again.’

Dr Belys smiled. ‘Wait till you see my bill. Doctors charge even more than lawyers.’ He hesitated. ‘Two things more. I have a concoction of my own that should ease the pain, but do not take too much. Also, it would help if you were to have your back gently massaged twice a day. Goodwife Brown has offered to do that. A woman’s hands are best.’

I drew in a deep breath. I found it distasteful for anyone to see my bent back, and a woman, Josephine –

Belys saw my hesitation. ‘She has already agreed. And Goodman Barak or Master Overton will be present as well, to avoid any suggestion of impropriety.’

‘It will help?’

‘Greatly.’

‘Barak, then,’ I said. ‘He has seen my back before.’

‘Good. But for now, lie still.’ He looked at me, with my lined face and prematurely white hair. ‘I am told you are forty-seven.’

‘I am.’

‘And with your disability – are you not getting a little old for such escapades?’

* * *

AFTER HE LEFT , Barak and Nicholas entered. Nicholas looked pale, troubled. I thanked him for his part in saving Boleyn. ‘I don’t know how I managed it,’ he said seriously. ‘I held him up, taking the weight of his body, those poor people kicking and choking all round me, the executioner trying to pull me off, I thought you were dead –’ He broke off, shaking his head.

Barak also looked strained, but punched Nicholas lightly on the arm. ‘There must be some muscle on the beanpole, after all.’

‘And a good thought, Nicholas, to write to Guy.’ Then I remembered, ‘The letters to Parry and the Lady Elizabeth –’ Without thinking, I tried to sit up, and another spasm sent me gasping.

Nicholas said, ‘I sent them off as soon as I got the stay of execution from the court office. They swore blind they’d sent a copy of it to the castle constable.’

Barak said, ‘The constable says he never got it. I wonder what happened there. But it’s too late to find out, the judges move on to Suffolk this afternoon.’

I looked at him. ‘You should have been with them. I’m sorry.’