Part 1 The sword swiftly descended towards More's shoulder. He felt unable to move. "Arise, Sir Thomas", declared King Henry. More, now Sir Thomas, arose. "Your Majesty." The King returned his nod, then looking towards the wider court asked, "Anyone for tennis?" Sir Thomas stepped forward at the same time as Mistress Anne but the King shook his head. "Nay, Sir Thomas. I believe our friend Wolsey would have you tarry with him a while." And it was so. The Cardinal was at Sir Thomas' side. "If you would walk this way, More." Wolsey had spent what seemed a lifetime calling him More and appeared disinclined to change now, investiture or no.

It was a short coach ride back to Hampton Court. Along the way Wolsey only made small talk, leaving More to guess at what the import of the Chancellor's latest mission might be. At last they were in the familiar surroundings of the audience room. Wolsey pulled a chart of the lands of Savoy from the map table. He pointed to a town next to Lake Geneva. "John Calvin," he declared, "Arch heretic." "Linked to the Lutherans, your Grace?" More enquired. The Cardinal looked momentarily embarrassed. "We have no formal proof, no." "So no cathedral burnings?" "He certainly hasn't expressed his disapproval. And in fact..." Wolsey commenced a long diatribe against Protestant heresy. But More was momentarily distracted. He thought he espied Sister Joseph among the nuns that served the Chancellor. The good sister had been known as Constance Ecks before taking her final vows. She had once been close to More before deciding that she would rather be married to the perfect Man than one nearly so... "Now pay attention, More! What these Calvinists propose to do is far worse than anything the Lutherans have done." More was startled. "Worse, your Grace? Than destroy a cathedral that may have taken more than a century to build?" Wolsey looked stern. "Worse," he repeated. "It may take time but a cathedral can always be rebuilt. Better, stronger, taller and more beautiful than before. What the Calvinists are devising strikes at the eucharistic meal itself!" "Calvin would abolish the mass?" More could scarcely believe it. "He would leave but a shell," the Cardinal explained. "There would be no beauty, no sacrifice, no celebration. Attending one of Calvin's so-called suppers would lack all merit for the worshippers, for the heretic believes that salvation comes from faith alone, and pre-ordained faith at that. "Worse, we believe his is preparing emissaries to send out in the Spring-tide to spread this... this theology of mass destruction throughout Christendom." More could not believe it, "Would anyone be so monstrous as to take celebration away from simple Christian folk?" Wolsey looked even grimmer, "He does that now to his own people in Geneva. Why shouldn't he inflict this also on his enemies?" Wolsey began listing the litany of crimes that Calvin, the most evil man since Melanchthon, had inflicted on the Genevese. Absolutism, rationing, informers, imprisonment and terrible punishments including burnings at the stake. Sir Thomas took a deep breath. "Once again, Christianity hangs in the balance. I suppose Brother Felix must accompany me?" The Chancellor shook his head, "Nay. King Henry has some mixed feelings about subjects of the Emperor Charles at the moment. As Defender of the Faith, King Henry supports all Catholic monarchs during this time of crisis, but..." Wolsey's voice trailed off. "This wouldn't be linked to Charles' sack of Rome, your Grace?" asked More. "No, More. The Holy Father accepts the Emperor's explanation that the burning of the Eternal City was friendly fire. And so does King Henry. Yet His Majesty is concerned that the Emperor may grow over mighty, his domains including as they do Spain, Austria, Hungary, the Netherlands and the New World. This crisis shall pass, our friends may change but England's interests remain eternal." What was Wolsey saying, wondered More. Than England might one day be at war with Holy Spain, the pre-eminent superpower of Europe - albeit a very recent superpower? Inconceivable! His reverie was interrupted by Wolsey once more. "Pay attention, More. We will be working with some of the smaller powers in Christendom. King Francis of France and his vassal, the Duke of Savoy." The Cardinal called out to Sister Joseph and asked her to bring their Savoyard guest in. The nun brought in a man of middle years, whose long beard had already turned white. More was expecting a Savoyard to speak with a French accent that was as strong as the Spanish of Brother Felix. But not a bit of it. The richly-dressed newcomer spoke almost perfect English, with a slight Castilian lisp. "Allow me to congratulate you on your elevation, Sir Thomas. I am James Sadolet but you may call me Jimmy." More's mind immediately jumped ahead. If his new companion was Jimmy, then he, More, might become Tommy. "I would prefer James." Sadolet momentarily reverted to French. "Bon," he nodded, "James, bon." Wolsey intervened, "More, you will need to show proper respect to Jimmy. He is a bishop." "A prince of the Church, your Grace?" asked More, "Why would a bishop go to a den of heresy such as Geneva?" "Because, Sir Thomas," said Jimmy gravely, "I am the new Bishop of Geneva."

Jimmy remained with Wolsey while More was downstairs with Father Leo. As always, the Florentine cleric had a number of new inventions, some useful, many deadly, all amazing. The one that captured More's eye was the compound crossbow. "You have heard of the compound bow?" Father Leo asked. "Yes, a bow made from several different materials, allowing greater tensile strength," said More. "Well, the compound crossbow is made from several different crossbows, allowing rapid firing." "Side by side?" asked More. "No, on top of each other. It makes aiming easier. Here, let me demonstrate." Father Leo took a surprisingly compact-looking object from a hook on the wall. He removed three quarrels, one at a time from a canister on his workbench and wound each one home. "Now watch this, More." Father Leo turned and fired three times at a target on the opposite wall. In truth, the older man was a better natural philosopher than an archer, but one quarrel still struck the target, if not the bull. "Now you try," said the inventor, encouragingly. More took the weapon, wound and fired. The first shot was wide of the gold but the second and third hit bulls-eye. More reloaded and tucked the weapon into his belt. Father Leo coughed, "One thing I should mention, More. The bows cannot withstand tension for any length of time without damage. So I have built in a safety device. If any quarrel remains unshot after five minutes it discharges automatically." "A safety device?" More cried incredulously. He pulled the compound crossbow from his belt as if it was alive and hastily shot at the target three more times. "Let me see if I understand this correctly, Father Leo. I can shoot three times as rapidly as any other archer. But I must take three times as long to wind, also. And I cannot prepare for battle ahead of time, unless I wind within five minutes of combat." "Si," said Father Leo, "That is about the size of it. But within those parameters you can do as you please. And I know you are a very resourceful man." "Grazzi," More replied, tucking the bow and one or two other items into his belt. He felt as equipped as he ever would be, to take on a heretic army, in a mountain fortress, accompanied by a bishop who wanted to be called Jimmy. [To be continued]