London - Edward Rutherfurd [307]
“And did you see any miraculous cures performed by these relics?” Thomas asked with a trace of mischief in his voice.
“Yes. A woman was cured at Assisi,” he answered quietly.
They sat a long time at table, talking easily on such cheerful topics. Despite what the cynics at court or the secret heretics might do, Peter would have words of calm and wisdom; and suddenly, even the king and his misfortunes and her anguish about the Supremacy seemed less important. These things would pass. The faith would remain. This was the comforting message Peter would bring. She was sure of it.
But as the February afternoon grew dark and the children left to play upstairs, Peter turned quietly to Thomas and, with a faint glint of reproach in his eyes, enquired: “So Thomas, is the rumour we hear at the Charterhouse true?” And seeing that Susan and Rowland did not understand, he gently explained: “The king and Secretary Cromwell are planning to take a special interest in us.”
It was, it had to be confessed, a logical step. Peter himself explained it very simply. “Henry wants to ensure that he is absolute master in his own house. His Supremacy Act has been passed by Parliament and accepted by his bishops – many of whom, of course, are his own men. But there are still a few thorns in his side which irritate him. There are More, Fisher and Wilson. But there are also the sterner religious houses, such as the Charterhouse and some of the friars, who took the oath only with reluctance in the spring. Since any dissent is now treason, Henry has just had the bright idea of frightening all these tiresome people into taking an oath of some kind – we haven’t seen it yet – which presumably will admit all his claims to Supremacy. Then he’ll have proved his point.” He paused and looked sternly at his brother. “Have I got that right, Thomas?”
“It’s a new idea,” Thomas said. “It’s only the people you mention who’ll be asked for an oath. The rest of us,” he glanced at Rowland, “will be left alone.”
“We are honoured to be singled out,” Peter said drily.
Susan saw Rowland frown. “What will you do, Peter?” he asked.
“I shall do what the prior tells me to. That is my duty since I have joined the order.”
“And what will that be?”
“I don’t know. He’s going to meet the heads of the other Carthusian houses. I imagine he’ll consult the brethren too. That would be proper.”
For a moment nobody spoke. Then Rowland quietly asked: “If you were prior, Peter, what would you decide?”
“Me?” He did not even hesitate. “I should refuse.”
Susan went cold. “You can’t mean that!” she cried. “It would be treason!”
“No,” he said quite coolly, “not really. Parliament can decide many things. It can decide the succession, certainly. But Parliament is not competent to alter Man’s relationship to God. If they insist on calling it treason, I can’t help it. As for me, don’t forget that I took vows to a higher authority long ago.” He looked at her kindly and his tone was matter-of-fact. “There’s no getting round it, you know. Henry’s trying to become the spiritual authority and he can’t. I’m sorry. And as for this Cromwell business, this Vicegerent,” he pronounced the word with mild contempt as he gazed steadily at Thomas. “The Church spiritual to be run by the king’s lackey? Obscene. Of course I can’t accept it.”
“You would court death?” Thomas asked in surprise.
But his brother only shrugged with a trace of impatience. “Court it? No. Why should I court it? But what would you have me do? Swear to this nonsense?” He turned to Susan and Rowland. “This is the trouble with being in power, like Thomas here. It’s very difficult, you see. They want to get things done and sooner or later they always forget their principles.” He turned back to Thomas. “Either something is right, or it’s wrong, my friend.”
“So what,” Rowland said very quietly, “should a man like me do?”
Susan looked at Peter in anguish. He saw and understood, but his expression did not change as he surveyed the two of them calmly. “I think,” he said, with consideration, “that