Part 4 The story so far... Thomas is England's leading humanist and former Sheriff of London. Felix is a Spanish monk and inquisitor. Together they fight crime! Now read on...

"Auf wiedersehen Herr More" said Anton Fugger, jauntily, and left the building. The banker's deaf-mute servant's moved their legs faster in the stirrups attached to the clockwork-contraption. The circular saw spun faster and bit into the log onto which Sir Thomas was tied. In a matter of minutes he would be sliced in twain. Johann Reuchlin, tied unconscious to a chair beside the machine, was undoubtedly next for a bloody dismemberment. Then, in the shadows, More espied a hooded figure. It moved with little noise, which mattered not as the servitors were wanting of hearing. Expertly it threw a garrotte around the neck of the hireling on the left and pulled tight. The suffocating one's legs circled ineffectually and More heard a dreadful choking noise. The other servant heard nothing. He, too, was to be strangled in turn but at the last moment must have noticed that he now had the full burden of operating the mechanical saw. He turned to remonstrate with gestures at his fellow only to see the cowlèd one cast the cord around his own neck. "Felix!" cried Sir Thomas, "You arrived just in time to..." The words froze in his throat as his rescuer pulled back the hood to free a mass of chestnut curls which she expertly tossed beside her shoulders. "Martha Fugger!" More exclaimed in surprise and relief. "I have suspected my father for some time, ever since he denied ny request to enter a convent and instead insisted on a tutor to make me more 'marriageable'," she said. He wants me to bear him grandchildren, a whole new banking dynasty but I just want to do what's right." "You did right there, milady," said More, still tied to the log, "But however did you learn to use a garrotte so?" "Doktor Reuchlin provides a very liberal education," she said, "And I must see how the good doctor is." She undid Johann's bonds and checked his pulse before freeing Sir Thomas. It was only then that her voiced cracked, "I had hoped that my father was still a good Catholic. Will you have to kill him?" More indeed held letters patent allowing him to execute summary justice on everyone up to the rank of gentlemen. And being abroad he had even greater license to kill, His Majesty King Henry feeling that gentlemen were few and far between once one left the English demesne of Calais. But he reassured Martha, "You father is a long-serving vassal of the Emperor Charles. It will be for His Imperial Majesty to judge him." Reuchlin stirred. Soon he was fully awake and More explained what had just transpired "Now," said Sir Thomas, "We must find Brother Felix and raise the alarm before Herr Fugger can escape."

Sir Thomas and Felix confronted the Prince-Bishop at his seat at Minden. Franz must have retained some residual Catholicism, for he confessed readily. Yes, he had been planning to throw in his lot with the protestants. No, he didn't want to burn cathedrals, or destroy the mass, or practice polygamy or hold goods in common. All he wanted to do was to marry Anne Poelmann, his mistress of long standing, and make honest children of their eight bastards. Brother Felix suggested that there had been enough fence-straddling, a decision would have to be made, "Choosest thee this day whom thou wilt serve!" "I want to follow Jesus," Franz von Waldeck said simply, "And His vicar on earth, his holiness Pope Anastasius IV." Good Pope Anastasius! thought More to himself. The former Reginald Pole had an elegant charisma about him that saw dozens flocking back to the fold of Mother Church every day. But then a further thought struck him. "Do you mean, after all these years, to cast out and abandon Anne and your children?" More asked the Prince-Bishop. Franz looked thoughtful for a while. "Yes," he smiled and nodded. He had won the victory over himself. It was now a resolute Prince-Bishop that stood before them. "When we storm Münster we shall kill them all, all who have been tainted with the monstrous heresy of anabaptism. We shall spare only the priests and the pregnant!"

Storming Münster was easier said than done. Now that the siege was properly enforced, and winter was approaching, starvation was taking its toll. Hungry anabaptists were fleeing the city, only to be cut down by the Prince-Bishop's men. But the heretics still had an abundance of hand-cannon. A frontal assault would be suicide. So the stand-off continued. Until there occurred a Christmas miracle. An anabaptist, Heinrich Gresbeck, fled the city, buying his life with a promise to lead the besiegers through a weak point in the castle walls. "It way be a trap, your grace," Sir Thomas told Franz, "You should stay behind, I will take this miscreant with me and a company of your men and test the truth of his claims." "May it be so," the Prince-Bishop agreed.

And it was so. Some preparation was required but by Holy Innocents' Day all was ready. Sir Thomas and Felix, with the penitent Heinrich by their side, lead a few hundreds of the Catholic soldiery into the city. The defenders were taken by surprise and took grievous losses. Then the anabaptists rallied. But at close quarters a hand-cannon was no better than sword. The heretics fell, almost to a man. But the women fought on, even more bitterly than the men, struggling vainly to save their children. There last redoubt was a storehouse, by now denuded of food. More could no longer stand the slaughter and ordered his men to sheath their swords. The women, half starved, meekly surrendered. They and their children were led out into the town square. All the survivors were hanged. Well, not all the survivors. More recognised Jan van Leiden and Bernt Knipperdolling, the anabaptist ring-leaders. He arranged for Felix to whisk them off to the Dominican priory in Haarlem where they could be put to the question about the extent of the protestant network. They would still die, eventually.

After the battle was over, Franz told Sir Thomas what a valiant fighter he was, "I must present you to the Emperor so you can make a full account of your deeds." "I thank you, your grace, but my work here is done. I must return to my own king." "Ah, but did you not know? The Emperor is holding embassy in Ghent and your King will be there." "Perfect!" said More, "I accept your offer."

The embassy was not in Ghent but in a field outside the city walls. Charles had spared no expense - marquees and pavilions of golden cloth fluttered in the light breeze. Emperor and King were seated on a high dais, other great nobles just below them and the remaining ruck at ground level. The Emperor, who prided himself on his knowledge of Spanish, German, French and Italian, began by making a speech. In honour of the visiting king Henry, he gave the speech in English, for if one can speak four languages, why not five? True, his grasp of the grammar fell short of perfect. Once or twice his assumption - that English, a germanic language, must support baroque compound nouns - betrayed him. But Sir Thomas thought it a fine first attempt at a foreign language. "Let there be no doubt. The Holy Roman Empire remains combatant against protestant eviltude notwithunderstanding our other deployments in Italia. The alliance between Englandland and our country is just as much against the terrorisers as it is against the Francians. Let the sack of Münster, just as much as the previous sack of Rome, impress upon our enemies our resolutenesstion - any where, anywhen, anyhow." There was prolonged, sustained applause from those hearing the monks' translation into other languages. King Henry and Sir Thomas clapped politely. The King's Chancellor, Cardinal Wolsey just stared in amazement until, conscious of what those around him were doing, joined in the applause. Then the Emperor heard petitions. The first was from Martha. She pled for her father's life, and also that she might go to a nunnery. Charles stroked his beard shrewdly, "If Herr Fugger's only daughter were to go to a nunnery, then she would have no need of patrimony. If Herr Fugger were then to be executed as a traitor, then his estate would be forfeit to the crown. "So this is our judgment. Fraulein Fugger may go to her nunnery. Her father shall likewise go to a monastery, there he might learn to be a better Christian. Any debts he has against the Crown are to be forgiven. And likewise his estates are to be forfeit to the Crown." Martha squealed with delight. As Anton was dragged off for a forcible tonsure he wailed, "Oh, my daughter! Oh, my ducats!"

The formalities over, King Henry sought out Sir Thomas. "Dashed clever fellow, that Emperor. Good fund raising lark, expose rich chaps as heretics and take their marchpane," burbled the King, using the latest slang word for 'money'. "Now tell me, More, how may of those heretics did you kill at Münster?" "Not just by my own hand, sire, but the best estimates are between 7,254 and 9,703 souls. These come from the Prince-Bishop himself." If the King was surprised that the two figures could be so precise yet vary so greatly his face did not show it. Perhaps recent fatherhood had softened him, because he began warbling about 'young Fitzroy' and the content of his swaddling clothes. Protocol demanded that Sir Thomas stay with the King until dismissed, so the bachelor waited attentively. Fortunately, the Lord Chancellor sallied to Sir Thomas' rescue, and led the King by the arm to meet some margrave or other. Good old Cardinal Wolsey! More couldn't see the Chancellor ever having a baby. And then by More's side was Martha. "I take my vows tomorrow," she said. "Then perhaps you best not stand so close to a man," he replied gallantly. She batted her eyes, "One of the first things a novice must do is say her confession. I would like to have something worth confessing." "You would be prepared to sin, just to know the blessing of God's absolution?" Martha threw her arms around Thomas' neck as she moved her lips close to his, "Yes! Let God bless us all, everyone!" [The End]