Giordano Bruno Thriller Series Books 1-3: Heresy, Prophecy, Sacrilege

Kate Mosse (bestselling author of Labyrinth)

‘Fascinating … The period is incredibly vivid and the story utterly gripping. Cadfael can’t hold a candle to this’

Conn Iggulden (bestselling author of Bones of the Hills and The Dangerous Book for Boys)

‘Heresy is a riveting read. Rich in both historical detail and ingenious twists, S. J. Parris has created a character in Giordano Bruno that will endure. A true rival to C. J. Sansom’ Sam Bourne (bestselling author of The Righteous Men)

‘Heresy is a must-read for every fan of historical thrillers. S. J. Parris transports the reader back to an extraordinary time in history by mobilizing fascinating details, suspense, and fully-drawn characters. Giordano Bruno turns out to be that rare hero, charismatic and nuanced enough to impel an encore, and to leave us asking for more from the gifted Parris’

Matthew Pearl (author of The Dante Club)

‘An atmospheric and well-written historical thriller’

Guardian

‘The places and people are vividly described and the solution to this exciting, well-written tale comes as a real surprise’

Literary Review

Table of Contents

Cover (#u282c39ae-5347-53d5-9d7d-96ef543031a4)

Title Page (#u620937ca-30f5-51b5-898a-a76d6602fc12)

Copyright (#u34fffd31-0e7d-5f5e-af58-9b3c3ea322f4)

Praise for Heresy (#u70b8f6a0-b822-560f-9fde-1ff526209d4a)

Prologue: Monastery of San Domenico Maggiore, Naples 1576 (#ue1a67b68-72e1-5191-8a68-9d363263c656)

Part One: London, May 1583 (#ue11fe87b-8f93-5971-8651-54f11dafbc14)

Chapter One (#u18e27a11-b781-5996-842f-f4dd301f4733)

Part Two: Oxford, England, May 1583 (#ue6ec5fdd-4668-550b-b318-2d138deec15b)

Chapter Two (#ub044041a-9d34-5613-95cf-a0c5fee7ddc0)

Chapter Three (#u70a04f10-1bd7-5093-a32b-1bdc8b78cd5e)

Chapter Four (#u5cd06302-8d2c-5956-bc79-f39a300ca101)

Chapter Five (#u86e30534-bda7-534e-ba30-5d7505465abd)

Chapter Six (#ue01238d6-40de-597e-b5bc-7a52097cf087)

Chapter Seven (#u6c81e9dc-6bea-5eb6-8d1c-bf4be1e3c918)

Chapter Eight (#u9b17fb3a-6e38-5a4f-b485-0be2b7b888ff)

Chapter Nine (#u5500b838-3cdb-5fc7-94f1-cee00cf6e816)

Chapter Ten (#u03e1e342-1168-5969-b5c2-7e6cc4a85407)

Chapter Eleven (#ud35fa1b1-ebc9-5ae8-8169-416672ba59b5)

Chapter Twelve (#u798d64f5-b613-5fc1-8f0a-d6327067804b)

Chapter Thirteen (#u8a094275-78c0-55a7-87cf-737bc3156b7e)

Chapter Fourteen (#u2b251680-ba41-53a6-8e2d-140d811e1a0d)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue: London, July 1583 (#litres_trial_promo)

Acknowledgements (#litres_trial_promo)

PROLOGUE (#ulink_b1a3b805-92e4-5bbc-819a-d5ff431d27b4)

Monastery of San Domenico Maggiore, Naples 1576 (#ulink_b1a3b805-92e4-5bbc-819a-d5ff431d27b4)

The outer door was thrown open with a crash that resounded along the passage and the floorboards shook with the purposeful marching of several pairs of feet. Inside the small cubicle where I perched on the edge of a wooden bench, taking care not to sit too close to the hole that opened over the cess pit beneath, my little candle flickered in the sudden draught of their entrance, sending wavering shadows growing and shrinking up the stone walls. Allora, I thought, looking up. They have come for me at last.

The footsteps halted outside the cubicle door, to be replaced by the furious hammering of a fist and the abbot’s throaty voice, strained beyond its usual placid tones of diplomacy.

‘Fra Giordano! I order you to come out this instant, with whatever you hold in your hands in plain sight!’

I caught a snigger from one of the monks who accompanied him, swiftly followed by a stern tutting from the abbot, Fra Domenico Vita, and could not help smiling to myself, in spite of the moment. Fra Vita was a man who, in the ordinary course of events, gave the impression that all bodily functions offended him mightily; it would be causing him unprecedented distress to have to apprehend one of his monks in so ignominious a place as this.

‘One moment, Padre, if I may,’ I called, untying my habit to make it look as if I had been using the privy for its proper purpose. I looked at the book in my hand. For a moment I entertained the idea of hiding it somewhere under my habit, but that would be fruitless – I would be searched straight away.

‘Not one moment more, Brother,’ Fra Vita said through the door, a quiet menace creeping into his voice. ‘You have spent more than two hours in the privy tonight, I think that is long enough.’