Witchfall (15 page)

I did not know what to make of it. Had I really seen a vile black mass creeping from beam to beam above the dais? Or was it some sick fancy, the product of a feverish brain after my long hours of torture at the hands of the Inquisition?

‘Señor de Pero,’ the Queen greeted the Spanish priest eagerly, ‘you and your men must accompany the court to Oatlands too. I could not be without your reports.’ She signalled the Inquisitor to rise from his low bow. ‘How goes the true faith in England? I pray each night for my subjects to come with one accord to the Lord’s feast, though in my heart I know many of them are stubborn and wanting in faith.’

‘Their stubbornness will be burnt out of them, Your Majesty, as you have so wisely decreed. There is no greater trial for a heretic than fire. No fewer than five and twenty have gone to their deaths unrepentant this month, and I expect that number to rise as the summer passes into autumn.’

Queen Mary nodded, her narrow dark face solemn. ‘Those wretched unhappy people. I hate to think of their
suffering, both in death and in Hell. But I know it is the Lord’s work we do in this heathenish country. You are right, Señor de Pero. After so many years under false priests and teachers, there is often no remedy but to burn these unbelievers as an example to the rest. Only remind your Inquisitors we are not barbarians. Do not fail to offer any Englishman mercy if he will agree to embrace Catholicism with all his heart.’

Miguel de Pero bowed his head at her command. ‘You are a merciful Queen indeed. The question is asked of each man and woman as they are sentenced, Your Majesty, and yet again as they are whipped to the stake. A few accept the wickedness of their error, and so gain their lives. But I fear the English must be thick-headed as bulls,’ he told the Queen, and I could hear contempt in the priest’s voice, ‘for many still consent to be led to their deaths in the marketplace like holy martyrs, their hearts all swollen with pride for having refused Your Majesty’s edict. Poor fools! These heretics will dance in Hell for ever after our bonfires have put them on the path to the Devil.’

The Queen looked over his shoulder at Alejandro. ‘I recognize that young man.’

De Pero gestured Alejandro forward. His tone was reserved. ‘Your Majesty, may I present Alejandro de Castillo, the eldest son of one of Spain’s most respected noblemen? De Castillo serves as a novice in the Order of Santiago, one
of our most prestigious orders, only open to the highest families in the land.’

King Philip leaned forward to gaze at Alejandro with interest. ‘An eldest son in the church? That is most unusual.’

‘An accident of fate, Your Majesty,’ de Pero explained, turning to his sovereign. ‘Alejandro entered his priestly training as a younger son. But now his elder brother has died, he stands to inherit his father’s title and estate. Indeed, his family have requested that he should return to them at once. Nonetheless, I am told by his masters that de Castillo has a great career ahead of him in the Order of Santiago if he wishes to pursue the priesthood.’

This was news to me. Alejandro’s brother had died and he was now the heir to his father’s title? I tried not to appear too interested, for fear of betraying my feelings.

Queen Mary looked down at Alejandro as he swept off his cap and knelt respectfully before her throne. Her eyes narrowed assessingly on his figure. ‘You were in attendance on my sister at Woodstock with the venerable Father Vasco.’

‘I was, Your Majesty,’ Alejandro agreed, his dark head bent.

‘I remember your reports. They were always very welcome to me, even when not wholly positive.’ The Queen’s mouth tightened and she glanced briefly at the Lady Elizabeth. It struck me for the first time that her care for the princess was not wholly driven by malice and resentment, but also from a very real fear for her sister’s soul. She
gestured her sister to stand, for the Lady Elizabeth had been kneeling all this while. ‘You did well to ensure my younger sister continued to attend daily Mass during that time. However, I fear her lax nature has reasserted itself since then. Some who are close to the Lady Elizabeth tell me she has slipped from such strict observance since returning to court.’

Elizabeth’s eyes widened at this, a flash of anger in her face, but she said nothing, moving silently to the left of the dais.

‘This lapse may be partly my fault,’ her sister continued, a slight flush rising to her cheeks. ‘I have been too long in my own apartments and have taken Mass there privately instead of before the court. It is the duty of a prince to teach by example, after all. But once we are at Oatlands, I would have you attach yourself to my sister’s train and serve as her spiritual advisor. She is a young woman, and it may be that she will heed your teaching more keenly than that of an older priest.’

Miguel de Pero stirred uneasily at this startling suggestion. I remembered how he had warned me to stay away from Alejandro, and knew it would not sit easily with him to know that Alejandro was being given such an elevated status within a royal household.

‘Your Majesty, I am not sure if such an honour would be entirely appropriate,’ he said smoothly. ‘There are other priests better placed to undertake this duty, if you would permit me to suggest one or two names. Father Vasco must
soon return to Spain and I had hoped young Alejandro would accompany him. While his reports from Woodstock may have been glowing, I am far from convinced this was because your sister—’

King Philip held up his hand, interrupting the priest. ‘We have heard your objections. The Queen has made her decision. Your novice will attend the Queen’s sister as her spiritual advisor and make weekly reports to Her Majesty as before.’

The Chief Inquisitor hesitated – and I swear his nostrils flared – then swept them both an exaggerated bow and backed away from the dais, his head low. ‘Forgive me, Your Majesties.’

The Queen looked at her husband with a shy smile, no doubt to thank him for his intervention. But King Philip did not smile in return, glancing away as though he could not bear to look on her, his English-born wife who had not produced their longed-for heir – no, nor ever would now, for many believed Mary too old to bear a child.

The Queen’s countenance fell and she stammered, ‘My lord King,’ then fell quiet, twisting a handkerchief between her fingers.

As I watched, Queen Mary summoned the Lady Elizabeth to her side. For a few moments, with the whole court holding their breath, she spoke to her sister in a low tormented voice. Elizabeth nodded and curtsied to her sister, then left the Great Hall with only Blanche Parry in tow, her
reddish head bent over a rosary, her skirts rustling gently in the silence.

I did not know where her ladyship was going. I had no choice though but to remain where I was, not having been summoned by my mistress to accompany her. Perhaps she would be returning soon, I thought, and glanced down at the small lined basket of sweetmeats the princess had given me to carry. Should I wait here, or should I return to the Lady Elizabeth’s apartments so her sweetmeats did not spoil in the stuffy heat of the Great Hall?

‘I have heard there is still good hunting to be enjoyed, despite this changeable weather,’ the King remarked, clicking his fingers for another cup of wine. ‘Once the court has settled at Oatlands, I shall go up to Leicestershire for the month of August and hunt deer.’

Queen Mary’s face was rigid. ‘Go hunting for the whole of August? But my lord, I have been so unwell. I shall be in great need of your company at Oatlands.’

King Philip stroked his neat beard, frowning with displeasure. ‘But your ladies and your priests will be on hand to amuse you. I have done little these past few months but play chess and chequers. Your English court is nothing like my own in Spain. I tell you, I am half dead with boredom. And what better sport than hunting to blow away the cobwebs?’

Someone tugged on my gown from behind.

I turned, a quick reproof on my lips, and found myself looking into my brother’s face.

‘William!’ I cried in joy, then embraced him.

My brother smiled and stepped back. It was a warm smile, but his face was strained. ‘Dearest Meg, how well you look. That court gown is so fine, I almost did not dare kiss you for fear of creasing it.’

Alice was standing behind him, a smug look on her face. ‘This one swore blind he was your brother. He does have a strong look of you, Meg, so I brought him to find you. I told the guards he had permission to be at court. I didn’t do wrong, did I?’

‘Only if we are found out in a lie,’ I told her, but could not blame Alice for doing exactly as I would have done. ‘Never mind, it’s done now. And I am certainly glad to see my brother again!’

Some of the courtiers were glaring in our direction, their faces hostile. The King and Queen were still arguing, His Majesty’s voice raised in anger now. I realized it would not do to draw attention to ourselves at such a dangerous moment. Hurriedly I led Will into the passageway outside, which had the virtue at least of being less crowded than the Great Hall, and Alice followed us, her face alight with curiosity.

‘I thought you had found employment as a clerk in London, Will,’ I said, examining my brother’s face for signs of trouble. ‘What are you doing here at Hampton Court? Is anything amiss?’

William had looked close to despair when I had last seen him that spring, following the princess’s entourage back to
court bedraggled and downhearted. But some grief was only to be expected. He had betrayed my aunt by helping our father steal the letter that should have saved her, hoping the mere sight of Elizabeth’s signature would sway English exiles to attack Mary’s throne. But with no last-minute stay of execution, Aunt Jane had perished at the stake. ‘For the good of England,’ my father had claimed, showing no remorse except what lay at the bottom of a tankard of ale. But I knew my brother William had loved our aunt, and had perhaps not fully understood that she would be executed without the Lady Elizabeth’s plea for mercy. Though of course we had no way to be sure the letter would have made any difference to her fate.

He glanced at Alice, then back at me. ‘Perhaps we could talk more privately?’

‘You can speak in front of Alice,’ I said, and squeezed the girl’s hand, for I was beginning to think of her as a friend.

Will still looked wary however, so I gathered my skirts and hurried down the passageway, taking a turn which led out into the courtyard. It was hot and close outside, a dark bank of cloud blocking out the sunlight that earlier had streamed in through the high windows of the palace. It had been a strange unsettled summer, with periods of fierce heat and cold rotting damp following closely on each other’s heels, floods and droughts by turn across the country, and nobody ever sure from one day to the next if the sun would shine or rain would fall.

I waited for William and Alice to catch up with me, watching the farrier as he rapidly shaped a hot shoe to one of the Queen’s own horses. A young boy of perhaps nine or ten years old leaned against the wall of the smithy, holding a bucket of water for the farrier, his chest bare for the heat but so filthy he might as well have been clothed. As I watched, the farrier straightened and turned, dipping the hot shoe in the bucket of water. There was a violent hiss and steam filled the air like fine mist. The chestnut gelding shifted slightly in the farrier’s grasp, rolling its eyes, but did not seem otherwise alarmed.

‘We will not be overheard here,’ I told my brother im patiently as he and Alice emerged from the gloom of the passageway. ‘Say what is troubling you – and quickly, please, before I burst!’

‘You are right, Meg. I did find work in London,’ William told me, and I was surprised to hear his old childhood stammer return as he told his story. ‘I was private secretary to a merchant near Aldgate. His name was Lumdsen and he was quite a wealthy man. I lived well for the first month. Nor was the work too difficult, little more than keeping his accounts each day and overseeing shipments at the docks. I thought to have stayed with Lumsden a good few years, perhaps even settled there in the east of the city. But then one day we had an unexpected visitor.’ My brother shuddered, real fear in his eyes. ‘A Catholic priest, one of those they call the Inquisition.’

I began to understand. I gripped his arm as he faltered. ‘Go on, you are among friends now.’

‘My master was one of those who had sought reform before Her Majesty came to the throne. Everyone knew that in Aldgate and no one held it against him. Once the Queen’s rule was heard, that we should all be Catholics again, Lumsden returned to the old religion like everyone else. That is what he told us and I believed him.’ William hesitated. ‘Only . . . only he did not burn all his papers and books, as he ought to have done.’

‘So they arrested him?’

William nodded, swallowing hard. ‘And charged him with heresy before the week was out. Once they searched his house and discovered his chest of forbidden writings, my master was put to the rack and confessed it all. It seems he and two other men had been meeting secretly each Sunday night to worship as Protestants. One of their servants got wind of it, told the local priest, and that was when the Inquisition came to his door.’

Alice was staring, her blue eyes wide with horror. ‘The poor man. What happened to him?’

‘Master Lumsden was burnt before the city wall at Aldgate, him and his two friends.’ William crossed himself and closed his eyes. After a moment, he seemed to shake the memory away, then carried on in a low voice. ‘It was only by the grace of God that his wife did not burn with her husband, for they arrested her too. But the priests could find
no evidence against her. Though her life was ruined anyway. After my master’s death, his goods were forfeit and his land confiscated by the crown. His widow and three young children were turned out of their home and forced to leave London.’ William’s face was hard. ‘I wanted to help the family, but Mistress Lumsden would have none of it. She said I was as much a Protestant as her husband and should have burnt too.’

‘Oh, William!’ I embraced him tightly. ‘She must have been in great distress to have said such a thing.’

He nodded grimly. ‘I know it, and hold her no grudge.’