I clasped my master's hand and, spurring my horse, rode bravely down the tree-lined path, the hooves of the pack pony behind me digging up flurries of white dust. I felt like a knight-errant riding out for adventure. Little did I know I was a fool slipping into danger and the black shadow of Benjamin's great-uncle would soon trap me. My journey was uneventful enough. When I was young, England seemed green and fresh, in the morning-time of its life. No armies marched the land, no great lords unfurled the banners of rebellion. The Great Killer saw to that. Even then no one dared cross him and he had yet to show the dark side of his soul and prove Merlin's prophecy that he was 'The Mouldwarp’ who would drown his kingdom in a sea of blood'.

The abbeys and priories I passed slumbered gently in the lee of fresh green hills, unaware of the destruction about to crawl from the hellish pit of Henry's lusts. The villages, hamlets and the red-tile-roofed manors boasted their peace and prosperity for Henry was still living on the treasure bequeathed to him by his father. He had not yet unleashed his army of tax gatherers, commissioners, purveyors and assessors. The bridges were mended, the ruts in the roads filled in, the spring corn sown, and fat-tailed sheep browsed in the fields.

Oh, there were signs of the furies to come. At crossroads the gibbets provided plump carrion for the hungry crows and ravens; landless men turned out of their fields as the great lords changed to tending sheep rather than raising crops. Some were sturdy beggars, thieves and rogues but now and again you passed the honest yeomen, the skeletal, white-faced, puny children and worried, dark-eyed wives who tramped the roads looking for work. Shallot did what he could. I have a list of vices as long as your arm but I am not mean. I scattered pennies and rode on like a young lord through Aldgate and into London.