She put the coin in her pocket and the shovel over her shoulder, and she went heavily up the freezing shingle path to where the lights of the ferry-house gleamed over the cold waters.

WESTMINSTER PALACE, LONDON, JANUARY 1649

The two men went through the crowded streets, stepping over the dirty gutters in the cobbled ways, picking their way down muddy lanes till the great walls of the palace were before them and they could see the soldiers of the New Model Army on guard before the gates. There was a small crowd outside the gates, looking towards the gray carved stone walls and the snow on the slate roof.

“Where is the king housed now?” James asked, keeping his voice down.

“In St. James’s Palace. They’ve called a hundred and thirty-five judges to London to sit in a high court to try him. But I swear half of them won’t dare to come. And even if they do, he won’t answer to them. How are they even going to get him into court?”

“But if they come, and if he answers—”

The nameless man interrupted him. “He won’t,” he insisted. “By what rights can they summon him? You can’t summon a king. Nobody’s ever summoned a king. Would his father, King James, have come to the parliament whistle? Would Queen Elizabeth have trotted obediently along? No country in the world has ever called their king into a court. No English monarch has ever obeyed parliament.”

James nodded; it was incredible that the conflict between king and parliament, which should have been resolved on the first battlefield, or at least at Newport, had come so quickly to this unimaginable state. “But suppose they do,” he said. “Have they named a day and a time?”

“Tomorrow.”

“What?”

“Yes.”

“Can I get the names of the judges?”

“You can get the names of those who were called. But nobody knows who will come. They won’t know themselves. More than one will be sleepless tonight, trying to decide what he should do.”

“Is it possible that none of them will come, and the trial collapse?”

James’s guide spat into the frozen gutter. “The devil knows. It’s his idea, surely. But I would think Noll Cromwell will be there, wouldn’t you? And men who are faithful to him, and those that go beyond him?”

“The trial is open to the public?”

“Yes, but don’t think you can burst out of the crowd and save him. He’ll be so closely guarded, no one will get near him. They’ll be expecting a rescue attempt. They’ll take no risks.”

“The best time to get him away would be when he comes from his rooms at St. James’s to here at Westminster.” James was thinking aloud. “Probably by barge . . .”

The man ducked his head. “Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. And I have no opinion.”

“I have none either,” James said. “I’m whistling in the dark. Let’s get the names of the judges.”