Sovereign by C. J. Sansom Read Free Book Online

you?’ he asked solicitously. ‘You seem to breathe a little heavily.’
    ‘We had to ride through the night, Master Radwinter.’ I spoke firmly, I needed to establish my authority. I felt inside my coat pocket. ‘I should show you the
Archbishop’s seal.’ I passed it to him. He studied it a moment, then handed it back.
    ‘All in order,’ he said with another smile.
    ‘So, then. My lord Archbishop has written to you, told you I am to have oversight of the welfare of Sir Edward Broderick?’
    ‘Indeed.’ He shook his head. ‘Though really, there was no need. The Archbishop is a great and godly man, yet he can become – overanxious.’
    ‘Sir Edward is in good health, then?’
    Radwinter inclined his head. ‘He had some rough treatment from the King’s interrogators when he was first taken. Before certain matters came to light, and it was decided to hale him
to London. Most secret matters.’ He raised his eyebrows. He must know that the nature of those matters had been kept from me as it had from him; Cranmer would have told him in his letter.
    ‘So, then, he was tortured before you came.’
    The gaoler nodded. ‘He is in some discomfort, but nothing can be done about that. Otherwise he keeps well enough. He will be in London soon. Then he will be in far greater discomfort. The
King wants him questioned as soon as possible, but it is more important that it is done by the most skilled people, and they are in London.’
    I had tried not to think of what must await the prisoner at the end of his journey. I suppressed a shudder.
    ‘Well, sir,’ Radwinter said cheerily. ‘Will you have some beer?’
    ‘Not now, thank you. I ought to see Sir Edward.’
    He inclined his head again. ‘Of course. Let me get the keys.’ He went over to a chest and opened it. I glanced at the papers on his desk. Warrants and what looked like a sheet of
notes in a small, round hand. His book, I saw, was a copy of Tyndale’s The Obedience of a Christian Man , a reformist text. The desk was set beside one of the narrow windows, giving a
good view across the city. Glancing out, I saw many steeples and one larger church that had no roof, another dissolved monastery no doubt. Beyond lay marshland and then a lake. Looking directly
down, I saw the moat ran broader on this side of the castle, a wide channel fringed thickly with reeds. People were moving about there, women with large baskets on their backs.
    ‘They are picking reeds to make rushlights.’ I started at Radwinter’s soft voice beside me. ‘And see there?’ He pointed down to where one woman was pulling at
something on her leg. I heard, very faintly, a little cry of pain. Radwinter smiled. ‘They’re gathering the leeches that bite them, for the apothecaries.’
    ‘It must be a miserable occupation, standing deep in mud waiting for those things to bite.’
    ‘Their legs must be covered in little scars.’ He turned to me, his eyes looking into mine. ‘As the body of England is covered in the scars left by the great leech of Rome.
Well, let us see our friend Broderick.’ He turned and crossed to the door. I took the candle from beside his chair before following him out.

    R ADWINTER CLATTERED RAPIDLY up the stairs to the next floor, halting before a stout door with a little barred window. He looked in, then unlocked the
door and went inside. I followed.
    The cell was small and dim, for there was but one tiny window, barred and unglassed, the open shutters letting in a cold breeze. The chill air smelled of damp and ordure, and the rushes beneath
my shoes felt slimy. The clank of a chain made me turn to a corner of the room. A thin figure in a dirty white shirt lay on a wooden pallet.
    ‘A visitor for you, Broderick,’ Radwinter said. ‘From London.’ His voice kept its smooth, even tone.
    The man sat up, his chains rattling, in a slow and painful way that made me think he must be old, but as I approached I saw the face beneath its coating of grime was