Long-jawed Charles Hapsburg constantly worried about his soul. He was the ruler of Spain, the Netherlands and most of Germany, and had no difficulty in thinking he was God's Vice-Regent on earth, the reincarnation of the great Emperor Charlemagne. At times, old Charley-boy with his big jaw was like an old woman. Once he wanted something, it was nag, nag, nag until he got it. Catherine of Aragon was his aunt and Charles knew how to apply pressure on Henry. The English treasury was bankrupt. Henry loved his feasts and banquets but they all cost money.)

'The Orb,' Agrippa continued, 'is precious not only to the House of Hapsburg but also to France and the Papacy. Inside this orb are said to be miraculous relics of great power: some of the Virgin Mary's hair and a phial of Mary Magdalene's blood.' He glanced at Benjamin. 'You've heard the story?' 'Some of it,' Benjamin replied.

'Well, according to legend,' Agrippa continued, addressing me, 'Mary Magdalene, after the Resurrection of Christ, allegedly fled Palestine and took ship to Marseilles. She was accompanied by Lazarus and others who had known Christ during his lifetime. Well, to cut a long story short, the legend says that Mary Magdalene married and from her line sprang the Merovingians, the sacred, long-haired kings of France who fashioned the Orb.' Agrippa sipped from his goblet. 'So we now have a pretty little potage. The Emperor's men are in London led by their ambassador the Count of Egremont. He is assisted by those they call the Men of the Night, the Noctales.' 'And the French?' I asked. 'They're here too, not to mention the Pope's envoys, all vying to buy the Orb.' 'And the King?'

'Oh, he's loving every minute of it, like a young maid being courted. First he favours one side, and then another, simpering and pouting.'

(I could just imagine it. Henry liked to see himself as the warrior, the huntsman, the great lover. Well, if the truth be known, as a warrior he could just about swing a sword.