Tombland

‘I still have responsibilities,’ I answered stubbornly.

We made our way to the road, just as a party of horsemen in fine but sober clothing appeared – Robert Kett and his brother William, with a group of other men. They included Toby Lockswood, who looked at us with narrowed eyes. Kett waved me to approach.

‘Master Shardlake, God give you good morrow.’

‘And you, Captain Kett.’ He was again in happily enthusiastic mood, his energy returned. William Kett, however, looked at us with sharp eyes. I wondered whether he thought his brother too trusting of me.

‘Work on the Oak of Reformation is almost done,’ William said brusquely. ‘Be ready for tomorrow.’

‘I shall.’

‘What are you doing in Norwich today?’

‘Visiting friends, and Master Boleyn in the castle.’

‘I am having further talks with Codd. I hear that a new camp has been set up at Castle Rising, near King’s Lynn, which will soon be ours. And we have sent men to occupy Yarmouth. There will be cockles and herrings for everyone!’ He smiled, looking around his entourage. Then he nodded to us and set off towards the steep hill, people cheering as he passed. Toby, however, turned aside and approached us. ‘You are visiting Boleyn?’

‘He remains my client.’

‘I heard that last night those twins of his got together with other prisoners in their room at Surrey Place and tried to break out. They are held in chains now. They may be sons of a landowner, but they are vagabonds, savages.’

‘You know my views about that pair, Toby,’ I answered.

Nicholas looked at him angrily. I feared for a moment he might lash out, but he only said, bitterly, ‘Toby, you broke bread with us, even fought with us against the twins. Yet now you look at us as though we are enemies. Did you always think so little of us?’

Barak glanced at Toby curiously. ‘Well?’

Toby flushed, looking between the three of us. ‘I told Master Shardlake, if I am given work, I make it a point of honour to do it well. But you, young Nicholas, would join those ranged against us if you could. As for John Boleyn, whether his sentence was right or wrong, he is one of the lords. A shame this affair also took the lives of two working people, but no doubt that is just a detail to you.’

‘Does not John Boleyn still deserve justice?’ I said.

‘As do we all. But few of us have the Lady Elizabeth behind us to purchase a pardon.’ He leaned down from his horse. ‘There are people from Brikewell here, some of those who mistook you for the enclosure commissioners when they were scaring off Witherington’s doves. One saw you and asked me what you were doing here without your finery. I told him Captain Kett seemed to favour you. But do not underestimate him, Master Shardlake.’

* * *

WE WALKED DOWN the hill. As we passed under Bishopsgate Bridge gatehouse, I noticed yet another proclamation from Protector Somerset. I hoped it might tell us when the commissioners would arrive, but it only said starkly that a reward was being offered for the naming of renegades and deserters who were stirring up sedition. I frowned. That did not sound like sympathy for the camps.

As we walked along Holme Street, between the high walls of the cathedral precinct and the great hospital, where beggars still sat waving their bowls, I saw a familiar face; a strongly built man with a brown beard, laughing and joking with a group of younger men.

Barak said to me, ‘There’s Vowell.’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Let us have a word.’

We pushed our way through the crowd. ‘Master Vowell,’ I said, ‘good morrow.’ I thought he might not recognize me in my changed state but he answered at once, ‘Lawyer Shardlake, I see you are free.’

‘We are at the camp,’ I said.

‘Prisoners on parole,’ Nicholas added. ‘Me, at least.’

‘Are you at the camp, too?’ I asked him.

‘I am.’ Vowell raised his chin proudly. ‘For a long time the ways of our rulers have sickened me, not least my old master.’

I remembered the night we had seen him at the Blue Boar Inn, and thought, sickened so much you helped plot this rebellion. One of the men with him spoke up, a thin young man with fierce angry eyes. ‘Him and all his filthy kind. The rich merchants of Norwich hurt the common people as much as the greedy landowners in the countryside.’

Vowell said, ‘Have you ever seen the Sotherton house?’

‘No.’

‘They are another of the great families of Norwich. It is in St Andrew’s Street. The walls are built of flint, knapped and chiselled so they are as even as bricks. It makes a great show. Think of the time and effort so many masons and poor labourers put into making it for a pittance.’ I thought for a moment of Edward Brown and his calloused hands. Vowell leaned closer, and spoke quietly. ‘Are you planning to visit your client John Boleyn?’

‘Yes. And his wife, if she is still in Norwich.’

He shrugged. ‘Well, remember what a nest of adders that family is. Old Reynolds, and those twins.’

‘Come on, Mikey,’ one of his friends said. ‘We’ll be late for market.’ Vowell gave me a serious look, nodded briefly, and turned away.