Tombland

Barnabas said, ‘Don’t you remember, though, you couldn’t find your purse when we were at the inn afterwards, you’d taken your doublet off because it was hot and left it with your purse on the bench. The key was in it.’

Gerald rounded fiercely on his brother. ‘Shut your fucking clack-box, Barney! I found it, there where I had left it.’

‘How long was it on the bench?’ Nicholas asked.

Gerald hesitated. ‘Only half an hour. And the key was there. Nobody had time to take it.’

‘So who was at the inn that night?’ I asked quietly.

‘A load of people. All the friends we mentioned before. Chawry, too, our father’s steward, drinking on his own and looking sorry for himself. He’s often there nowadays. Anyway, what the hell does it matter? The key was never lost.’

I looked at Barak over Gerald’s head. He mouthed the word, ‘Wax.’ I understood. Barak knew a good deal about locks. The boys had been boasting about their planned prank; everyone knew they had the key. Someone, using a candle, could have made a quick wax impression of it and taken that to the locksmith.

I said, ‘All right, I think we’re done. But don’t threaten us. There will be a full account of our meeting going to the Lady Elizabeth and her Comptroller tomorrow morning. If anything happens to any of us, the authorities will know where to look.’

Barnabas and Gerald glanced at each other. Barnabas laughed. ‘Reckon we’ve wasted your time, fine sirs,’ he said. ‘That was a clever trick, though, waiting for us in here.’

‘Ay, full marks for trying,’ Gerald agreed.

Toby lowered his sword. ‘Get out, then.’ Barak and Nicholas also stepped back. The twins looked down to where their swords lay on the ground. ‘Going to let us have our weapons back, then, Master Hunchback? You wouldn’t have two poor lads that will soon be orphans walking through Norwich unarmed at night, would you? What with all the sturdy beggars around?’

‘I think you’re safer without them,’ Barak said.

‘Come on,’ Barnabas said heatedly, ‘they’re our only ones. They’re expensive, too.’

‘Look,’ Gerald said, ‘we’ll put them straight in our scabbards and walk out. You have us well covered.’ They did not wait for a reply, but slowly bent and picked up their swords, making to put them back slowly in their scabbards.

We all relaxed slightly, and that was our mistake. Acting as one, the twins pulled out their swords again and lunged at us. Gerald swung at Barak with a fury; he parried, but his left hand was not as strong as his right had been, and his sword fell from his hand. Gerald lifted a foot and kicked him mightily in the gut; Barak fell over. Then he turned on Toby, while Barnabas clashed swords with Nicholas. Both managed to parry a couple of thrusts, but though they were good swordsmen the twins were experts. Gerald’s next thrust ran Toby through the right arm and he staggered, dropping his sword and grasping his arm, blood welling through his fingers. Then Gerald turned on me, his face twisted in an expression of ferocious rage. I heard Nicholas and Barnabas fighting hard, the clash of swords ringing loud in the enclosed yard; Nicholas, at least, seemed to be holding his own.

I expected Gerald Boleyn to run me through, but instead he pinned me against the wall of the yard, then held the sword to my guts, putting his other arm across my throat. He was very strong; I could not move. My heart pounded hard.

Gerald’s eyes looked into mine; they were wide now, blazing. ‘You bent, crawling lawyer,’ he hissed. ‘You think Barney and me murdered our mother! Did you ever have a mother , or were you hatched out of some fucking egg? We loved our mother, do you hear, loved her, and we’ll see our father hang for what he did to her. I’ll kill you for what you said!’ He gave a shrill, deranged laugh. ‘You know what’s inside your guts where my sword is?’ He made a little jab to emphasize his point. ‘It’s where your shit is, it’ll all fall out. That’s the right death for you! What’s left inside will poison you, and you’ll die slowly.’ The boy smiled widely, showing even white teeth, even as he drew the sword back slightly for the killing blow. I closed my eyes, thinking, I never imagined it would end like this, after all the dangers I had faced, killed by an eighteen-year-old.

And then, suddenly, Gerald fell down like a felled tree, his sword ringing as it hit the ground. By the light of the lamp I stared dazedly at his still form. Nicholas stood facing me, breathing heavily, his shirt gone, his slim athletic frame white in the moonlight. He was holding his sword, but by the blade, wrapped in his shirt. I stared at him foolishly, then over at Barnabas, who was nursing a wound on his shoulder, Toby standing over him.

‘What – what did you do?’ I asked.