The King's Evil

'The mobs thought so,' said Henry ruefully. 'They beat confessions out of any Catholic they could find. Innocent foreigners were attacked at random. Frenchmen, Italians and the like who were unwise enough to venture into the streets were set on without mercy. The fortunate ones got away with cuts, bruises and broken bones. I have no sympathy for the Old Religion - remember to tell that to our father - but I do not wish its practitioners to be torn to shreds by an enraged mob. I abhor violence of any kind. It was shameful to behold.'

'Were any arrests made?'

'Dozens. But since most of the prisons were burned down, there was nowhere to keep the miscreants. It has been a gruesome week.'

'Who, then, did start the fire?'

'Investigations still continue but the finger points to a careless baker in Pudding Lane. That is certainly where the blaze began.'

Christopher gulped. 'A vast city razed by the folly of one man?'

'The fellow denies it hotly but he looks like the culprit.'

'Who will buy bread from him after this?'

'Ship's biscuits. That is what he made. Hard tack. I should know,' observed Henry, straightening his back with self-importance. 'His output helps to victual our fleet. His damnable name has probably passed before my eyes a dozen times at the Navy Office. But enough of the fire,' he said, crossing to rest an elbow on the marble mantelpiece and display himself to full effect. 'It has wreaked its havoc and been brought under control. What we must look to now are the rich pickings it may offer.'

Christopher was puzzled. 'What rich pickings? The city has been reduced to a state of abject poverty.'

'Use your imagination, brother.'

'To what end?'

'Future prospects. One city may have vanished but another one must rise in its place. The opportunities for a talented architect are unlimited. Scores of them will be needed to act as midwives if the new London is to be brought into being.'

'That thought did cross my mind,' admitted the other.

'Seize on it, Christopher. It is the chance you have wanted.'

'I never wanted such wholesale destruction.'

'Nor more did I,' said Henry smoothly, 'but I am alert to the openings it suddenly provides. I know you think me heartless and given over entirely to a life of vice but I do honour my promises. When Father enjoined me to take you under my wing in London, I vowed that I would. I am sure that you will be gracious enough to concede that I have kept that vow.'

'You have,' said Christopher. 'I made much of the point to Father. It was the one honest thing I could say in your favour.'

'Did he have no strictures for you?'

'Indeed he did, Henry. He taxed me with my inability to settle in a career and he was not at all impressed when I argued that I had made my mark in several. As I reminded him, I studied law at Cambridge then became embroiled in anatomy before trying my hand, with some success, at writing poetry. Astronomy was my next love and I prospered in its study until the blandishments of philosophy seduced me away. I spent a whole year among fine minds. I tell you, Henry, there is nothing which thrills the blood so much as a lively debate with fellow- philosophers.'

'I would take serious issue with you over that,' said his brother, arching a lecherous eyebrow. 'When I wish to thrill the blood, I do not require the presence of a fine mind. A voluptuous body alone suffices. But come to your latest enthusiasm, brother.'

'It is much more than that.'

'That is what I hoped.'

'Architecture is my obsession.'

'For how many weeks is it likely to last?'

'Indefinitely,' said Christopher with polite vehemence. 'I have found my true metier at last. Architecture embraces all the other disciplines. It combines the severity of the law with the fascination of anatomy, the joy of poetry, the mystery of astronomy and the intellectual stimulus of philosophy. When you add the iron logic of mathematics, you have a profession which outstrips all others. An architect is at once an artist and a scientist. What could be nobler?'

'Nobility can wait,' said Henry, strolling across to him. 'All that I am concerned with is securing a regular income for you. I have seen your drawings and was much impressed. They are brilliant. And I know that you have applied yourself diligently to this new interest.'

'Oh, it is not new, Henry. The seeds were sewn long ago in Rome when I chanced to meet Signor Bernini. He designed the Piazza of St Peter's and much else besides. Albeit a Catholic - I have not dared to breathe his name to Father - Bernini opened my eyes to the beauty of architecture. I have been putting my ideas down on paper ever since.'

'To good effect. You are clearly very gifted.'

'It is one of the reasons I went to Oxford,' continued the other as the glow of idealism lit up his features. 'To watch the progress of the Sheldonian Theatre. It is an extraordinary building. Wren is a genius. His design is breathtaking.'

'I am glad you mentioned your namesake. Christopher Wren is indeed a genius. The Great Fire will be the making of him.'

'In what way?'

'He has been invited to prepare a plan for the rebuilding of the city,' explained Henry knowledgeably. 'Wren is not the only one, mark you. I happen to know that John Evelyn will be submitting his own scheme, as will others. I have also caught wind of a notion put forward by a certain Captain Valentine Knight, involving the building of a wide canal from the River Fleet to Billingsgate. Ha!' he sneered with a gesture of disgust. 'Have you ever heard such nonsense?'

'You are amazingly well informed, Henry.'

'I consort with the right company.'

'Which of these many plans will be adopted?'

'That is the one thing I cannot tell you. They will have to be assessed in due course. But my guess is that Wren will emerge as the leading figure. Pattern yourself on him.'

'That is my intention.'

'Carpe diem, Christopher. Commit yourself. Study in earnest. It will be months before any rebuilding is allowed and that gives you time to hone your skills. Be ready to help the phoenix rise from the ashes.'

'Nothing would please me more!'

'I will do my share,' volunteered Henry. 'It is astonishing what information trickles into my ears. When new houses are in demand, I will assuredly learn who wishes to commission some of them. My advice may even be sought in certain cases. How convenient it would be if I could recommend, as an architect, my own brother.'

Christopher was touched. 'Would you do that for me, Henry?' he said, unused to such filial assistance. 'I would be eternally grateful.'

'You can repay me by harping on my generosity when you next write to Father. Play the architect in your correspondence. Design a Henry Redmayne who is more appealing to a Dean of Gloucester.'

'That is a feat beyond even my talent,' said his brother with a chuckle. 'But I will do my best. As for your offer, I embrace it warmly. I will serve a speedy apprenticeship and be ready when the call comes.'

'Then there is no more to be said.'

They exchanged a warm handshake then Henry drifted to the mirror to make a few adjustments to his apparel. Christopher came up behind him with a knowing smile.

'You are going out this evening, I see.'

'I'll not let a fire deprive me of my pleasures.'

'But all your haunts have been destroyed, surely?'

'Some escaped,' said Henry suavely, brushing a fleck of dust from his sleeve. 'Besides, I am bidden this evening to an establishment in Faringdon Without. That ward was unmolested by the fire. Many who fled from the