Chapter Ten

 

therefore it seemed much more eligible that the king should improve his ancient kingdom all he could, and make it flourish as much as possible; that he should love his people, and be beloved of them; that he should live among them, govern them gently and let other kingdoms alone, since that which had fallen to his share was big enough, if not too big, for him:

Utopia by Thomas More (translated by H. Morley)

 

“Who’s behind the talk?” Parker rose to his feet, his fists clenched.

Simon winced. “Wolsey.”

There was silence. Little spikes of panic and fear leapt in Susanna’s chest, and when she spoke, her words were thick and bitter on her tongue. “When did you hear this?”

Simon picked up the poker and stirred the coals, then threw on another log. It caught with a little pop and sizzle as the sap burned up and illuminated the high cheekbones and beautiful curves of his face. “Just a little while ago. I overheard Wolsey telling His Majesty.”

“Did the King believe the snake?” Parker sank back down onto the chair, his face too pale, too drawn with pain.

Damn Jan. Damn Lucas as well, for that matter.

“You must have angered him tonight, because he was not in the best of moods where you are concerned.” Simon glanced at Parker. Hesitated. “If he had simply been going to bed, Wolsey would have had more luck, but Wolsey delayed the King’s departure. I was to take him . . . somewhere, and he was eager to get there. He did not take well to Wolsey telling tales so late.”

A look passed between Parker and Simon, and Susanna realized the matter of the King’s late night trip was something known to both of them. She thought of the flushed, curved girl he’d danced with earlier in the evening, and came to her own conclusions.

“So, Wolsey’s spy in the Queen’s chamber lost no time running to him with news we wished an audience with the Queen.” Parker took another deep gulp of pain-killing tea. His hand was rock steady. “And it means his spies in Margaret of Austria’s court have warned him that something is going on. He may just be guessing at the connection between Margaret’s secret dealings and your urgent visit to the Queen, but given your father’s position, it is a sound guess.”

“But we didn’t speak with her. And the spy would know that. So why call me traitor before I even had a chance to say anything?” Susanna sat back in her seat, her legs weak beneath her.

Simon turned sharply, his eyes narrowed. “There is something to tell?”

“No.” Parker spoke with force. “We were given information, but we had no intention of passing it to the Queen.” He tapped his lips with his forefinger. “But that is a good question. Why call traitor when it can be proved you didn’t speak with her?”

“Perhaps his excitement at having something against me meant he didn’t think the matter through.” Susanna wondered if that were possible. If Wolsey’s hatred of her and Parker would be enough to cause that sharp, cold mind to trip.

“What did the King say?” Parker set his cup down.

“That he would turn his attention to the matter on the morrow.” Simon took a step to the door.

“You think they will come for me? That you will suffer for your friendship with us?” Susanna spoke slowly. There was a ringing in her ears, and a terrible, heavy feeling in her stomach. She looked at her feet, and wondered how so much could have changed in a single day.

“If you are not a traitor, then why did you ask to see her?” The words burst from his mouth.

“Someone tried to kill us today.” Susanna pointed to the door, to the scar where the bolt had been pulled from its wood. “We hoped they would no longer have a reason to silence us, if they knew we had seen the Queen.”

“If the shooter was not Jean.” Parker was watching Simon, his mouth a thin line.

She closed her eyes. “Aye. If the shooter was not Jean.”

“You can go.” Parker rose up again, and his colour was better, his voice stronger. “There is no need to taint yourself with our company, Carter.”

Susanna lifted her head. It felt like a lead weight.

Because it was so hard, she forced her chin even higher, at a defiant angle.

“Parker . . .” Simon looked between them. His hand was already on the door. “I’m sorry.” He slipped out.

She stared at the door as it swung closed, and wondered how many more would close against her in the days to come.

“What now?” She did not know, for the first time in a long time, what to do next.

“Now we get some rest.” Parker held his hand out. “On the morrow, we go to the King.”

She nodded. Allowed him to pull her to her feet. “Before he comes to us.”

* * *

Parker stepped out of the King’s Chambers, to the hall where Susanna waited. “The King is not here.”

“Where is he?” She frowned.

“Wherever Simon took him last night, I’ll wager.”

“Ah.” Understanding lit her face, and she stared at the door. He lifted his hands, and felt her shoulders, taut as the strings of a bow beneath his fingers. “Do we go to him?”

Parker shook his head. “He is . . . private about these things.”

He saw her lips open, as if to say something, and then close.

“Parker and the lovely Mistress Horenbout.” Will Somers stepped out of the gloom of the passage behind them, his voice deep and resonant. It was as if he’d been there all along.

Parker would have sworn not, but with the King’s Fool, he never truly knew.

“Good morning, sir.” Susanna dipped in curtsy, and Parker saw Somers’ eyes flicker.

“A good morn to you, too.” He took a step closer, his eyes going to the bruise on Parker’s forehead. “I see you are still fighting battles, Parker. I know you never take a turn in the lists, yet you sustain many hurts.” He rubbed his hands together. “What is afoot?”

Parker did not answer, as Somers knew he would not, and the Fool chuckled.

“You never know, I might keep it to myself.” Somers cocked his head as he spoke, and wriggled his hand from side to side.

“I don’t trade in maybes.” Parker held his arm to Susanna. Time was slipping. A sense of urgency pressed on him, forcing him forward. They needed to confront Wolsey’s accusation head on, or he could see nothing ahead but trouble.

Susanna stepped closer to him, to take his arm.

“A word of wisdom, fair lady, for one who always greets me as well as she greets the King himself.” Somers hand came out, and gripped Susanna’s wrist.

Parker’s eyes narrowed, but the Fool ignored him, his gaze locked with Susanna’s.

“Go to the Queen. Go openly. Make her come out into the main chamber where all can see you, and talk to her of painting. Talk on and on about painting.” He let go of her and stepped back into the gloom behind him. “Go now.”