Tombland

‘Serjeant Flowerdew,’ I began quietly, ‘when I entered the law I made two promises to myself. I would never be blackmailed, and I would never be bribed.’

Flowerdew closed his eyes and shook his head, as one confronted by a fool with whom it is impossible to deal. Then he said, ‘Twenty sovereigns, then, for the document alone. You know what trouble it could get me into with my Inn.’

‘No. It is my guarantee you will do as we agreed.’

He looked at me. No doubt he would have liked to rail and shout, but realized it would do no good. He shook his head wearily. ‘I hope neither of us has cause to regret this.’

I made a peremptory bow, turned and walked out. Through the open front door I was glad to see Barak and Nicholas, and a couple of stable boys with the horses. I noticed the sound of church bells ringing wildly from the village and further afield. I frowned, puzzled, as did Flowerdew; it was Monday, not Sunday.

I went down the steps. Flowerdew and his wife remained in the doorway. We had just mounted when there was a clatter of hoof beats and the steward Glapthorne came riding fast up the lane, his face red. He dismounted, breathing hard. ‘Master Flowerdew,’ he gasped.

His master’s face set hard. ‘What is it?’

‘Men from the Wymondham fair! They’re spreading all over the countryside, calling for rebellion. I’ve been down to the village, half the men are gathered on the green; they’ve got pitchforks and bows and arrows. They threw insults at me! Listen, they’re using the church bells to ring the country awake! Beacons are being lit on the higher ground. There’s people on the road, coming to Wymondham from all over. Hundreds! The gruffs from the village said there’s some gone to Morley, to throw down all the fences! And, sir, they’re coming here next, to destroy yours!’

Chapter Thirty-seven

For a moment we all stood looking at Flowerdew. He held himself erect, his thin face hardening. Beside him, his wife clutched her hands together. The two boys appeared from within; she gathered them to her.

Flowerdew snapped at Glapthorne. ‘Morley, you say. John Hobart’s enclosed part of the village commons there, hasn’t he?’

The steward twisted his cap in his hands. ‘Yes sir, and they’re after your enclosures on Wymondham Commons too.’ He hesitated, then added, ‘You know what ill feeling there is towards you around the town.’

‘John, John,’ Mistress Flowerdew called, in sudden desperation, ‘how often have I warned your ceaseless quarrelling would end in trouble?’

Her husband rounded on her. ‘Quiet, woman! I can deal with these scum!’ He thought a moment, looking out over his lands where the sheep grazed behind their hurdles, peaceful in the sunshine. Then he smiled, nastily, and looked at Glapthorne. ‘Hasn’t Robert Kett recently enclosed a small part of Wymondham Common?’

‘Yes sir, but, forgive me, he’s popular in the town, while you –’

Flowerdew laughed. ‘Are not. Nor ever cared to be. But one thing brings popularity quickly, and that is money. There are few, even doltish plough-joggers, too foolish to decry that. Morley’s the other side of Wymondham, they’ll take time to get here. How many are there?’

‘The villagers didn’t say.’

‘I’ll meet them on the way, and pay them to turn their wrath on Master Robert Kett.’ He laughed, and suddenly I realized that he was enjoying this crisis. Behind his back, Barak made a circling motion beside his head, indicating he thought Flowerdew mad.

Possibly he was, but he was clever, too. At once he was barking orders. ‘Alice, take the boys inside. Glapthorne, get John and Charles and Peter from the estate, tell them to get long knives and fetch horses. And bring my sword.’ He turned to me, frowned, then spoke quietly. ‘Master Shardlake, I would ask you and your people to stay here, to protect my wife and sons should anyone come from the village seeking trouble. Will you do that?’

I hesitated, but Mistress Flowerdew was pale and trembling and it was not a request I could honourably refuse. Reluctantly, I nodded agreement. The elder of the boys shrugged off his mother’s arm. ‘Father, let me come! I am man enough now to face these churls.’

‘No, William, you stay here.’ Flowerdew looked at me and took a deep breath. ‘Thank you, Master Shardlake.’ He then ran into the house. He returned shortly, a grim smile on his face. He patted the waist of his doublet, and I heard the chink of coins.

Servants and horses were brought round quickly. Flowerdew buckled on his sword, and mounted a fine grey mare. Then he and his men rode down the lane in a cloud of dust, leaving Barak, Nicholas and me alone with his family.

* * *

WE WAITED INSIDE the well-appointed parlour. The older boy said again that he wanted to join his father, though his brother, who was perhaps thirteen, sat quiet, close to his mother. Outside, church bells continued to ring wildly. Mistress Flowerdew suddenly put her hands over her ears and shouted out, ‘Can they not stop that noise! It is driving me mad!’