Tombland

THE MARCH RESUMED . Late in the morning we came to the River Wensum, upstream from Norwich. As at the River Yare there was a bridge, but the Wensum was wider and it would have taken even longer to get across than at the Yare. Men were sent to fell some trees which were laid across the river to form another, makeshift bridge. Thus we were able to cross faster than before, though there was time still for the marchers to halt and eat lunch as they waited their turn. Then the march resumed, following the wide flood plain of the Wensum northwards. I had got into a rhythm of walking, trying to copy the military men in keeping erect and swinging my arms, and it helped.

Shortly afterwards a party of around a dozen horsemen approached us from the north, riding slowly, with numerous carts drawn by oxen behind. A command went down the line to halt. Barak had been allowed to join me and we were marching near the front with the old soldier Hector Johnson and young Natty. I stepped aside to see what was happening, Johnson following. The horsemen halted a few yards from Kett. At their head was a man in a bright gown, a cap with a peacock feather on his head. Johnson said, grimly, ‘Sir Roger Wodehouse. Landowner from Kimberley. One of the really big gentry. My plot of land was near his place.’

‘He can’t be hoping to take these marchers on,’ I said incredulously.

‘No. It’s something else.’

Wodehouse rode up to Kett, reaching out a hand. Kett did not take it. Then he and Kett spoke; Sir Roger gesturing back at his carts. Kett abruptly turned his horse round. He shouted down the line, ‘Sir Roger Wodehouse, like Mayor Codd, tells us to disperse and return home! He has brought provisions to make a feast, then says we should depart in good fellowship! I say again, for you who have already stirred there is no hope but in adventuring boldly!’

There was an answering cry of agreement from the crowd, and numbers of men detached themselves from the group and headed to the front, brandishing weapons. Sir Roger and his party attempted to retreat, but the reins of their horses were soon grabbed, men closing round them like a tide. Kett shouted, ‘Take him alive! Put him with the other prisoners! Let his servants go, but take the carts!’

I saw Sir Roger and his men unhorsed; Sir Roger struggled and his hat and robe were pulled off before he was thrown into a ditch at the side of the road. Faintly I heard him shout, ‘Wolves! Traitors!’ Then a man raised an axe, poised to bring it down on his head, but one of Wodehouse’s servants grabbed it. There was a tussle, settled by a shout from Kett that there was to be no killing. The man who would have slain him dropped the axe. I could not see clearly from where I stood, but it looked like Toby Lockswood.

‘What think you of that, sir?’ Johnson asked, satisfaction in his voice. ‘There it is, one of the great men dealt with. They try bribing us with ale and promises sometimes, if we get out of hand.’ He laughed. ‘There, we’ve taken another step further.’

* * *

THE SUN WAS slowly falling to the horizon, and the heat lessening at last, when we saw a large wood ahead and someone called out, ‘Drayton!’ The weary men picked up their steps now that a destination, and the blessed shade of the large wood, was in sight.

We found a place under the trees. Nearby, a group of people gathered wood to make a cooking fire. Half a sheep was hauled in and men began butchering it. I looked away, to where Natty sat nearby. Barak joined us. He had taken off his artificial hand and was massaging his arm. He looked morose.

‘All right?’ I asked.

‘I was thinking about Tammy and the children. Wondering how things are in London, whether people are rising there, too. I’ll try talking to Toby tomorrow, see what the news is from around the country, and whether they’ll let me send a letter telling her I’m stuck in Norfolk, but safe.’

‘I think it was Toby who attacked that man with an axe earlier.’

‘I didn’t see.’ Barak shook his head. ‘He’s just lost both his parents. He’s consumed with anger.’

‘You could leave,’ I said softly. ‘It wouldn’t be that hard to slip away.’

He shook his head. ‘They’re setting watches round the perimeter. Anyway, I’m staying.’ He spoke sharply. ‘Maybe you didn’t see me at the Hethersett oak, but I took the oath with the others to stand together.’

I knew he would not be dissuaded. Nothing was more important in England than a man’s oath.

I rose stiffly. ‘I’m going to try and see how Nicholas fares.’ I turned to Natty. ‘May I?’

‘I must accompany you,’ he said a little guiltily.

‘I understand. Jack, will you come with us?’

‘No, I’ll stay and talk to these people.’ He nodded at the group round the fire. ‘Maybe they’ll let us share their dinner. But listen,’ he added, ‘something you should do. I get funny looks sometimes because of my London accent, but your voice is a gentleman’s, and that may be dangerous here. Try to make your accent more like mine.’

‘You’re right. I’ll try.’