'Break your fast!' he hissed. 'The food is not tainted. We may be in danger here!'
I cursed but did as he requested and afterwards we slipped down the darkened stairway out of the main door where Benjamin had ordered a sleepy-eyed groom to bring round the horses. We mounted and rode across the darkened causeway, past the sentry, half-sleeping at the open gates and on to the trackway. The corpse of the household servant still swung from the branch of an elm tree. Good Lord, I remember the scene well to this day. Terror seemed to permeate the very air. It was bitterly cold, at that moment just before dawn when the demons and evil sprites which live under heaven make their final assault against the human soul. I looked round to glimpse the dark mass of Royston Manor and the swaying corpse of the hanged man caught my glance. Panic throbbed through my body and, if I hadn't been made of sterner stuff, I would have dug spurs into my horse and galloped as fast as I could back to Ipswich. The guard did not challenge us and we followed the faint trackway till Benjamin reined in and offered me a bulging wineskin.
'Drink as much as you want, Roger,' he whispered. 'I understand. I found this on our table when I woke.'
He stretched out his hand and I saw the small, faded, white rose lying there. I shivered at the warning. Benjamin threw the rose down.
'Now, Roger,' he continued briskly, 'I apologise for my rudeness yesterday evening but you do realise we are in great danger? There's something about this matter which could lead us to the gallows or on to the knife of some hired assassin. A dark, sinister masque is being played out and we do not know whom to trust. My uncle? The King? Queen Margaret? Doctor Agrippa? Something does not ring true… but what can we do? If we return to London empty-handed, we are finished. If we pursue this, we could very well be placing our heads in a noose. We do not know who are our friends and who our enemies. Two things may protect us: first, the Lord Cardinal treats me as his favourite nephew and that will afford us some protection; secondly, our investigations safeguard us. There are those who skulk behind and let us run hither and thither while they watch what we find out.'
His cool eyes holding mine, he leaned closer. 'We are in a dance of death. As long as the dance continues we are safe, but if we try to step out we will either be pushed back or killed. By whom I do not know but I intend to find out. For what else is there, Roger? Who is waiting for you or me?' He blinked and looked away. 'Who would miss us?' he added softly. 'Who loves you, Roger? Who loves me? Where is our home, where our loved ones? Look at us now, on this wild heathland with only the grass and the sky to keep us company. And our defence? Our health, the weapons we carry and the money we share. That's all there is, Roger.'
For once in my life I admit my master truly terrified me because he was right. My belly rolled in terror. I could have vomited with fear and had difficulty controlling my breathing at the silent horrors my master described. Benjamin took me firmly by the wrist and my horse whickered softly.
'Yet I have you, Roger, your friendship, and you have mine.' He threw back his head and laughed at the grey, lonely skies. 'What more could a man want?' He laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks. 'I mean, Roger, how many friends does the Lord Cardinal have? Not the King!' He suddenly sobered. 'Sometimes,' he whispered, as if the very bushes concealed royal agents or spies, 'I fear for my uncle.'
'What do you mean, Master?'
'Although he has the King's friendship…'Benjamin was on the point of replying when we heard the clip-clop of horses' hooves and saw Doctor Agrippa making his way slowly towards us; his mount, a gentle cob, ambling along as if it was a balmy summer's day.
'Good morning, Benjamin, Roger.' The doctor drew back his dark cowl. 'You were in a hurry to leave Royston.'
Benjamin grunted.
'Why?' Agrippa continues. 'What dangers threaten you?'
'You know very well,' Benjamin snapped back. 'Murder lurks there. Selkirk, Ruthven, Irvine… sooner or later it will be our turn. I am right, am I not?'
Agrippa's candid eyes rounded in mock amazement. 'But you are the Cardinal's nephew and Roger is your good friend. Your deaths,' he emphasised, 'would have to be explained, if not avenged.'
'Don't play games, Doctor. We air stand on the edge of a darkened ring. There is a great mystery here.'
Agrippa turned to me. His eyes seemed to glow in the darkness.
'And you, Roger, if your remarks in the Chapter House mean anything, believe I am at the centre of this darkened ring?'
My long-suffering patience broke. 'Who are you?' I accused. 'What magic arts do you dabble in?'
Agrippa shrugged. 'What is magic, Roger?' He pointed down to his stirrup. 'Many centuries ago, a Roman Army was wiped out by the Goths at Adrianopolis. Do you know why?'
I shook my head.
'The Goths wore stirrups and, because they did, could fight more efficiently on horseback. To many Romans at the time, the Goths were demons who used magical arts to gain victory.' He shook his head. 'And what was their magic? Something we don't even think about today.'
'You weave spells,' I challenged. 'Carey says his father saw you in Antioch years ago! How can a man live so long?'
Agrippa laughed softly. 'You are right, Shallot. Nothing is what it seems to be.' He leaned forward, his face serious. 'Who I am and what I do does not concern you. I am the Lord Cardinal's man!'
'Does the Cardinal need such protection?' Benjamin queried.
Agrippa chewed his lip. 'Your uncle is hated. He needs to protect himself: men say he has a magic ring which he uses to raise demons to control the King. They also claim that the Lord Cardinal has hired a famous witch, a murderess named Mabel Brigge, who has King Henry in thrall through the St Trinian's fast, a three-day period of abstinence from food and drink which leaves the strongest subjects under her control.' Agrippa stopped and looked at a lonely bird shrieking above us as if it was a devil let loose to wander this lonely wilderness.
I shivered as more silent terrors gripped my soul.
'I don't believe that,' my master replied.
'Oh, yes, you do,' Agrippa murmured. 'The only man your uncle should fear is the King himself. You have heard the prophecies?'
Now fascinated by Agrippa's sepulchral tones, I shook my head and wondered what powers he really had. The good doctor looked at us sharply.
'I trust both of you, so I shall tell you. They say King Henry is the Dark One, he is the Mouldwarp, the Prince of Darkness foretold by Merlin, the great wizard of King Arthur's court. According to his prophecies, the king of the twelfth generation after John will be the Mouldwarp, a hairy man whose skin will be as thick as a goat's. At first he will be greatly praised by his people, before sinking down into the dark pit of sin and pride. He is condemned by God to end his reign in gore and destruction. We are the twelfth generation after John and Henry is our King. We see him now as a golden sun but what will happen to him as the day dies and the sun begins to set? Then how long will he tolerate your uncle? And if the Lord Cardinal goes, falling from the heavens like Lucifer, you, the little ones, will be dragged down in his wake!' He spurred his horse. 'That is why we must succeed, not just for ourselves but for the Lord Cardinal. Who knows whether our success or failure might bring the prophecies about?' He glanced over his shoulder. 'We must go on, lest the shadows catch up with us.'
We urged our horses forward. I forget the details of the journey. Both Benjamin and I were lost in our own thoughts and I was mystified by Agrippa's revelations. A strange man whose like you will not meet again in my memoirs.
[Do you know, I lately financed a trip under one of Raleigh's captains to the Americas. When the fellow returned I entertained him here in the manor house. He told me strange stories of red-skinned men who wore eagle feathers, and their wise man fitted Doctor Agrippa's description. A strange world isn't it? My chaplain snorts in derision but what does he know? He lusts after Fat Margot's tits and is jealous because tonight I'll cup them in my hands. Oh, yes, the juices still run hot and I, past ninety, can do what many a thirty year old finds impossible! Do you think I am lying? Read my memoirs. When I was locked hidden away in Suleiman the Magnificent's harem, I satisfied every one of his houris but, as I keep saying, that's another story.]
Eventually, Agrippa, Benjamin and I entered Nottingham, going through the main archway into a dirty maze of streets. After the fresh airs of the countryside, we gagged at the smell of stale urine, stinking cats and rotting
