This podcast features scenes of a violent and or graphic nature.

Listen and discretion is advised.

It's 10 o'clock on the night of November 4th, 1605.

Two men are weaving their way through the jumbled mass of buildings and lanes

that make up London's Palace of Westminster.

Rats start across the toes of their tall leather boots.

It's cold and they're tired.

But if their suspicions are correct, the job they're doing might just save England from devastation.

Tomorrow will be the state opening of Parliament, the ultimate seat of power in judgement in England.

For days preparations have been underway for the ceremony, which will be attended by the most powerful men in the land.

Lords, judges, clergy, members of the Privy Council.

And, most importantly, accompanied by his wife and his sons, King James I himself.

Usually this is a day of celebration.

But this pair of men aren't hanging banners or polishing silver.

They're on direct orders from the king.

Holding a loft of land on each, they descend yet another set of steps.

The other present threat of plague has kept Parliament closed for almost a year.

So in the last week, the whole palace has been cleaned and beautified.

But down here, in the undercrofts that mirror the buildings above like a catacombs, things aren't so spik and spurn.

Stepping carefully on the slippery cobbles, they duck their heads to keep the damp and mould of the brickwork ceilings from dirting their felt hats.

The men turn a corner, locating the room they've been told to check.

Hours earlier, another search party found a man down here, apparently guarding a store full of firewood.

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