Tombland

He looked at me, ran a hand through his grey beard, and said quietly, ‘Thank you for speaking honestly, Serjeant Shardlake. But I think you are a man with too much doubt in your soul.’

I thought but did not say, and perhaps you have too little. There was silence for a moment, then Kett squared his shoulders and spoke, suddenly businesslike again, ‘All the camps are sending petitions to the Protector, summarizing their grievances. Our governors are drawing up a preliminary petition now. We must get it to London, as the other camps are doing. Perhaps I may ask you to look it over when it is done, to make sure it is not too clumsily written.’

‘If you wish.’

‘And meanwhile, to ensure that our collections of food and other resources from the gentry have legal status, we are preparing warrants. That is what those men here are doing.’ He produced a paper from his desk. ‘What think you of this?’

I took the paper and read:

We, the King’s friends and deputies, do grant license to all men to provide and bring into the camp at Mousehold all manner of cattle and provision of vittles, in what place soever they may find the same, so that no violence or injury be done to any honest or poor man: commanding all persons, as they tend to the King’s honour and Royal Majesty, and the relief of the Commonwealth, to be obedient to us the Governors, and to those whose names ensue.

Signed: Robert Kett.

Two more names which I did not recognize, written like the rest of the document in a neat secretary hand, had been appended but not yet actually signed.

‘Whose are the other names?’ I asked.

‘The camp governors of the particular Hundreds in which the warrants are to be applied. Receipts will be given to those from whom goods are taken.’

‘And yet –’

‘Yes –’

I took a deep breath. ‘Forgive me, but you have no actual authority from the King or the Protector. This, Captain Kett, is not legal.’

His eyes hardened again. ‘Everything we do is to further the interests of the King, the Protector, and the commissioners. Does this not show we intend to act legally, in the name of the King?’

‘That is an argument,’ I said cautiously, though in law it seemed little more than licensed theft – albeit from those who had more than they needed, and to supply the camp. Unintentionally, I laughed. ‘Captain Kett, you make my head spin.’

Unexpectedly, he laughed back. ‘I make my own head spin, at the labours that have fallen on me, all the things we must do. We are building a smithy to shoe horses and make weapons, and ovens to make bread.’

‘How long do you think you will be here?’

‘As long as it takes.’ He thought for a moment, then smiled. ‘You see, we have the whip hand. I know only too well what the Council and the Parliament think of us, though I believe the Protector is our friend. And in any event, the camps have the numbers, the organization and, in our case’ – he raised an eyebrow – ‘the gentlemen, as prisoners and hostages.’

‘What if they send forces against you, as they have the southwestern rebels?’

Kett smiled. ‘They call for the return of the Mass. We, though, are loyal to the new order in religion. And with an army sent to the west, and all other forces in Scotland, where is the Council to get an army from?’ His face suddenly became serious, his eyes hard.

I said, ‘You have thought it all through, sir.’

He clenched a fist. ‘Now is the time, now is our chance.’

I did not reply. Kett smiled again. ‘I have enjoyed talking to you, Master Shardlake. You speak directly, unlike most lawyers. I am going down to Norwich tomorrow, to visit Codd and Aldrich. Go there too, if you wish, visit your friends, then on Tuesday, help me do justice at the Oak of Reformation. Advise me, make notes of what is said.’ He hesitated, then added, ‘Your man Barak, I hear he can write tolerably well with his left hand?’

‘Yes. He has made great efforts to do so.’

‘Good. Then he can be your scribe at the Oak.’ He looked at me keenly. ‘He is wholly with us.’

I nodded. ‘I think he is.’ Suddenly I thought of Tamasin, far away in London. And I thought, too, Kett is a clever politician; now he has drawn me even deeper into the work of the camp.

Chapter Forty-five