That afternoon Tom was eating nuts in his room. When someone knocked on the door, he quickly hid the nuts and nutcracker in the armored glove.
"Come in!" Tom called, trying to act normally.
Tom was surprised when a thin boy entered the room. He appeared to be about 12 years old. With his head bowed, he dropped to his knees before Tom.
"Rise, lad," Tom said. "Who are you, and what do you want?"
The boy stood and looked at Tom with some concern. He'd heard the rumors about the prince's illness and knew he shouldn't act surprised. But he couldn't help himself.
"Oh, surely you must remember me, Your Majesty. I'm Marlow, your whipping boy."
Tom had no idea what a whipping boy did, so he couldn't pretend to know Marlow.
"Lord Hertford should have told me about him," Tom thought.
But Tom knew that Lord Hertford couldn't be by his side every minute. Something similar was bound to happen again. Tom needed a way to cope by himself, and he decided to practice on this boy.
"My whipping boy . . ." Tom tapped his chin as if he was thinking. "Hmm. I dimly remember you, but my illness has affected my mind. Can you give me a little clue about yourself? That sometimes jogs my memory."
"Do you remember a few days ago when you made three mistakes during your Greek lesson?"
"Maybe . . ." Meanwhile Tom thought he'd probably make forty mistakes if he really was taking Greek.
"Your teacher was going to whip me because you were too lazy to study."
Tom was astonished. "Whip you for something that was my fault?"
"Yes, your teachers always whip me when you fail at your lessons. No one may strike you, so I take your punishments for you," Marlow explained patiently. "That's my job, and I get paid for it."
Tom thought this was a very strange way to earn a living. "And has my Greek teacher beaten you this week as planned?"
"No, Your Majesty. The whipping was scheduled for today but was canceled because we're in mourning for King Henry. So . . ." Marlow hesitated. "So I've taken a chance and come to remind you of your promise. You offered to plead with your teacher on my behalf."
"Ah, now I remember. Yes, I'll talk to him for you."
"Thank you, sir." Marlow paused. "Some people would say you've been kind enough, but I have another favor to ask."
"Go on. I'm feeling in a generous mood." Tom encouraged Marlow to sit down.
"Now that you're king, you can do whatever you want. Which means you can stop having lessons. But if you do that, there will be no need for a whipping boy. I don't like being whipped, but I'll lose my job and my home here." Marlow dropped to his knees again. "Please, sir, don't turn me out on the street!"
Tom liked Marlow and was happy to help.
"Rise, Marlow. From here on, all whippings will be banned in the palace, but you'll have a job for life."
Marlow heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank you, sir! But what will I do?"
"You can answer my questions," Tom said. "You know a lot about what goes on here, and it helps my memory to talk to you. Let's start with . . ."
After an hour Tom had gained valuable information about royal people and events. And Marlow was pleased too. He felt that he had helped the king to get better.
"You've earned your wages today," Tom said. "I want you to visit me every day and update me on what's happening."
Soon after Marlow left Tom's room, Lord Hertford arrived.
"I'm sorry to bring disturbing news, Your Majesty." Lord Hertford took a deep breath. "Your advisers fear that news of your illness has leaked. They want you to start dining regularly in public. Seeing you in good health will reassure people."
An hour ago this news would have surprised Tom. But Marlow had heard gossip about the advisers' plan and passed it on to Tom.
"I can understand why they'd think this was a good idea," Tom said.
Lord Hertford was relieved that the king was acting more like himself. He decided to test Tom with a few questions. Thanks to Marlow, Tom was able to respond intelligently. Encouraged by Tom's replies, Lord Hertford asked one last question.
"Do you remember where you put the Great Seal?"
"No." Tom shook his head. "What does that look like?"
Lord Hertford hid his disappointment. The king was obviously still not well. "It doesn't really matter, Your Highness. Now that King Henry is dead, you'll soon have a new seal of your own."