The King smiled at the flattery. And I realized that Paget was trying to soften the King’s anger, and I wondered why. There was a moment of silence as the King considered further, but then shook his head. ‘This man suborned the Queen to keep secrets from me. That is treason.’ He looked at me again, those little blue eyes buried in their wrinkles still hard and merciless. ‘And I would be rid of him, he is a pestilential nuisance.’

I bowed my head. I felt cold, my racing heart had slowed. Treason, I thought. I would be dragged to Tyburn at the tail of a horse, hanged until almost dead, cut down, and then the executioner would cut out my innards. And naked, I thought strangely, quite naked. Then finally I would be beheaded. I thought, can I face that, can I act with courage as some have? I doubted it. And when I was dead, would I go then to hell? Would I burn for lack of faith, as Philip Coleswyn would believe? I stood there, in the King’s study, quite still. The image of Barak, thrown on that rubbish heap, came to me again.

Beside me, Paget drew a deep breath. He spoke slowly. ‘Your majesty, a trial for treason before a jury would make the recent problems concerning the Queen public. And also the deaths of those Anabaptists. We do not want that getting out. Not at this time.’

‘He can be condemned by Parliament, through an Act of Attainder.’

‘That would make it all the more public.’

Henry waved a hand, as though this were a trifle, but I could see from his expression that he realized it was not. Paget took another deep breath, before pressing home his point. ‘Even if Shardlake were put quietly out of the way, it would become known, and some might see it as a move against the Protestant side. The new political balance is still very delicate. We do not want to upset it unnecessarily.’

He fell silent; Henry was glowering at him now. It was a scene I imagined Henry playing out with anxious chief advisers repeatedly over these last thirty-seven years; the King angry, demanding ferocious measures, his councillors trying to warn him of the possible damaging consequences.

The King sat, considering. At length he grunted, a strange sound like a pig’s squeal, full of frustration. He gave me a savage look. ‘But surely we could do him quietly to death.’

‘I have no affection for this man, your majesty, believe me. But still I do not think that a wise move. The Parrs, in particular, would be concerned if he disappeared.’

The King sighed. ‘You give me straight advice, Paget, you always have. Even though I may dislike to hear it.’

‘Thank you, your majesty.’