Dissolution (Matthew Shardlake Mysteries) Read Online Free PDF Page B

Master Green says I progress very well.’
     
    ‘Good. There are sturdy beggars everywhere on the quieter roads.’
     
    He was silent a moment, looking at me thoughtfully. ‘Sir, I am grateful I may get my post back at Augmentations, but I wish it were not such a sewer. Half the lands go to Richard Rich and his cronies.’
     
    ‘You exaggerate. It is a new institution; you must expect those in charge to benefit those who have given them loyalty. It is how good lordship works. Mark, you dream of ideal worlds. And you should be careful what you say. Have you been reading More’s Utopia again? Cromwell quoted that at me today.’
     
    ‘ Utopia gives you hope for man’s condition. The Italian makes you despair.’
     
    I pointed at his jerkin. ‘Well, if you want to be like the Utopians, you should exchange those fine clothes for a plain shift of sackcloth. What is the design on those buttons, by the way?’
     
    He removed his jerkin and passed it across. Each button had a tiny engraving of a man with a sword, his arm round a woman, a stag beside them. It was finely done.
     
    ‘I picked them up cheaply in St Martin’s market. The agate is fake.’
     
    ‘So I see. But what does it signify? Oh, I know, fidelity, because of the stag.’ I passed the jerkin back. ‘This fashion for symbolic designs that people have to puzzle out, it tires me. There are enough real mysteries in the world.’
     
    ‘But you paint, sir.’
     
    ‘If ever I find time I do. But I try in my poor way to show people directly and clearly, like Master Holbein. Art should resolve the mysteries of our being, not occlude them further.’
     
    ‘Did you not wear such conceits in your youth?’
     
    ‘There was not such a fashion for it. Once or twice perhaps.’ A phrase from the Bible came to me. I quoted it a little sadly. ‘ “When I was a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man I put aside childish things.” Well, I must go up, I have much reading to do.’ I rose stiffly and he came round to help me up.
     
    ‘I can manage,’ I said irritably, wincing as a spasm of pain went through my back. ‘Wake me at first light. Get Joan to have a good breakfast ready.’
     
    I took a candle and mounted the stairs. Puzzles more complex than designs on buttons lay ahead, and any help that study of the honest English printed word could give, I needed.
     

Chapter Three
     
    WE LEFT AT DAYBREAK the following morning; the second of November, All Souls’ Day. After an evening’s reading I had slept well and felt in a better mood; I began to feel a sense of excitement. Once I had been a pupil of the monks; then I had become the enemy of all they stood for. Now I was in a position to delve into the heart of their mysteries and corruption.
     
    I chivvied and cajoled a sleepy Mark through his breakfast and out into the open air. Overnight the weather had changed; a dry, bitterly cold wind from the east had set in, freezing the muddy ruts in the road. It brought tears to our eyes as we set out, swathed in our warmest furs, thick gloves on our hands and the hoods of our riding coats drawn tight round our faces. From my belt hung my dagger, usually worn only for ornamentation but sharpened this morning on the kitchen whetstone. Mark wore his sword, a two-foot blade of London steel with a razor’s edge bought with his own savings for his swordsmanship classes.
     
    He made a cradle of his hands to help me mount Chancery, for I find it hard to swing myself into the saddle. He mounted Redshanks, his sturdy roan, and we set off, the horses laden with heavy panniers containing clothes and my papers. Mark still looked half-asleep. He pushed back his hood and scratched at his unkempt hair, wincing at the wind that ruffled it.
     
    ‘By God’s son, it’s cold.’
     
    ‘You’ve had too much soft living in warm offices,’ I said. ‘Your blood needs thickening.’
     
    ‘Do you think it will snow, sir?’
     
    ‘I hope not. Snow could