the present King of England's father that the Tudors would fight to protect Brittany's independence.' He shrugged. 'It just goes to show, princes are liars.'
(Well, that came as no surprise to me. Old Henry VII, father to the Great Killer, was a born miser and inveterate liar who wouldn't know the truth if it jumped up and bit him on the nose. Oh, by the way, Charles VIII of France was no better. He was a pygmy, an ugly little bastard, forever jumping on the ladies of the court as if he was a dog on heat. He fancied himself as a new Alexander and said he wanted to learn more about the Renaissance in the neighbouring country, so he invaded Italy. Charles sacked city after city. He also found syphilis, the first time that disease appeared in Europe. His soldiers caught it outside Naples and, when their balls began to drop off, he retreated. You must have heard how Charles died? Supposedly, he wandered into a darkened room and banged his head on a cupboard. I know different. He was murdered. I have met the assassin who was on top of the cupboard!)
'Brittany became part of France,' Ralemberg continued. 'I didn't care either way. I went to university at the Sorbonne in Paris, entered the royal service, and joined the French crown's legion of secret agents called the Luciferi, the Light-Bearers. These men move in the shadows. They do not act in the full light of day but deal in subtle trickery, clever fetches, secret assassinations, and every filthy trick of the devil. I became a high-ranking officer under the chief archangel, Vauban.'
He chewed his lip. 'The archangel is the title given to the leader of the Luciferi. He is appointed personally by the French king. I admit I was party to their tricks for a while but in Brittany the Luciferi began to remove, through assassination or spurious trials, any who opposed the French crown. One of these was my own brother who led the resistance in the countryside around Nantes.' He looked down at his splayed fingers. 'I suppose,' he murmured, 'that brought me to my senses. I began to see the Luciferi as evil. I fled from them and joined the rebels in Brittany.' He looked at the sea captain. 'De Macon was also one of us. When the resistance broke, I fled with what possessions I had.'
Ralemberg looked sharply at me. 'What's the matter, Roger? I thought you'd say this is England, the Luciferi have no power here?'
'I have met the Luciferi,' I replied, and heard Madame Ralemberg moan as I briefly described my assailants in the alleyway and the appearance of my mysterious protectors.
'Why didn't you tell us?' Ralemberg snapped.
'I thought they were another company, personal enemies. Threats,' I continued bravely, 'do not deter me. But you are right, Monsieur, this is England and the Luciferi have no real power.'
'The Luciferi are everywhere,' de Macon replied. 'Why do you think Monsieur Ralemberg needed your silver and gold? You were not the only one attracted by his business ventures. The Luciferi frightened the rest off.'
'Strange,' I mused.
'What is?'
'Well, Monsieur, before I met you in St Paul's, I found one of your handbills in my chamber at the Golden Turk. Would the Luciferi have put it there?'
'Yes, that is strange,' Ralemberg murmured. 'And you say that some others protected you?'
I nodded. He smiled thinly.
'You must have powerful protectors, Master Shallot.' 'What do you mean?'
'Well, the Luciferi threatened you but they were apparently warned off by someone more powerful.'
I went cold. I had this dreadful feeling that my journey to London and my meeting with this Frenchman had all been carefully managed by Cardinal Wolsey and his blackguard, Doctor Agrippa. Was that why Benjamin had let me go? Was that the reason I found the handbill in my chamber? I thought back. Everything had gone so smoothly. Here was I writing to Benjamin, boasting about being a merchant prince, and it had all been contrived. Now, I'd mentioned Benjamin to the Ralembergs but told them nothing about his near kinsman, the great cardinal.
'Monsieur,' I snapped, 'were you told about me before we met?'
Ralemberg shook his head. 'No,' he answered. 'All I do know is that others who approached me were warned off. At first, I thought it was just the Luciferi but, on one occasion, I am sure it was due to intervention from the English court.'
'Why?' I asked.
'Why what?'
'Why is the English court interested in you?'
Ralemberg smiled and gently removed the crumbs from the table with the tips of his fingers. His companions sat frozen like statues, watching me intently. I am sure de Macon had his hand on his dagger hilt and I realised for all they knew I could be a member of the Luciferi. That's why de Macon was present, in case their gamble went wrong.
'I accepted you, Roger,' Ralemberg said, 'because I liked you. I also suspected that you had powerful patrons, someone high in your king's court.' He licked his lips. 'I was given sanctuary in England in return for information about the Luciferi.' He shrugged. 'You know, the usual details: names, places, agents, ciphers and letters. I told them all I knew except the one thing the great cardinal wanted.' 'Which is?'
'The Luciferi have a spy, a very high-ranking spy, at the English court who provides the French with information about Henry's plans against France, even before such plans are implemented. Cardinal Wolsey thought I knew his name.'
'And do you?'
'No, only that the Luciferi call him Raphael, but Wolsey already knew that.' 'You say 'him'?'
'Yes.' Ralemberg smiled bleakly. 'Yes, you're right, Roger, it could be a woman. All I know is the name Raphael.'
'But Wolsey,' I persisted, 'and the Luciferi, think you know the identity of Raphael?' He nodded.
'So why don't the Luciferi just kill you?'
'My dear Roger, in London there are spies in the service of the Papacy, the Doge of Venice, the Emperor of the Romans, Ferdinand of Aragon… and the same is true of every capital in Europe. They are like parasites. They are tolerated here because France tolerates English agents in Paris, but there are certain limitations on their actions – blatant assassination is one of them. Moreover, as soon as the English think I know the name of their traitor, I will be kept safe.'
I leaned back in my chair and studied Agnes's white face. I smiled to hide my own unease. Were Wolsey and Doctor Agrippa somehow managing me? I wondered. Did they think I would loosen Ralemberg's tongue or stir his memory?
'So why do you tell me all this now?' I accused.
'This afternoon,' de Macon spoke up, 'the Luciferi made their presence felt.'
Ralemberg pulled a small package from inside his doublet. He unrolled the piece of linen. In the centre lay a small, pure white beeswax candle stamped with the fleur de lys of France. I picked it up and studied it curiously. It was identical to the one thrust into my hand in the alleyway. It looked so simple, so pure, yet it had held terrors for the Ralembergs and would be the beginning of fresh horrors for me.
'You should be careful,' de Macon murmured.
Of course, Shallot made light of it. I joked and teased them all until some of the heaviness lifted. I didn't give a damn about the Luciferi. Benjamin's uncle would protect us! I was more concerned with persuading Agnes to go for a walk in the tree-lined garden, and foolishly dismissed the Ralembergs' unease.
The next day de Macon sailed. I wrote a short letter to Benjamin, proclaiming myself a merchant but asking if his uncle had written to him recently. I made the letter sound as if all was well, and I suppose it was.
(I must pause. I can hear the little chaplain sniggering at me, the loathsome turd! He murmurs that my success is a fable like that of Dick Whittington who became Lord Mayor of London fifty years previously. Why should the little sod laugh? Can't old Shallot have a run of luck? Oh, no, the little bastard's more interested in seeing his patron, his generous master, hunted, beaten and starving in some rotting gaol or facing terrors which would reduce many a man to an inmate of Bedlam. Well, the little sod needn't worry, he can have his fill of all that before this murderous tale is finished.)
Four days after the Ralembergs told me about the Luciferi, I was in the Golden Turk carousing by myself. My partner had told me there were private matters he wished to attend to. I shrugged and left him alone. Now, isn't it strange how terrors begin? A band of gamesters joined me, with a cupful of dice and purses jingling merrily. Sturdy
