Tombland

I considered. ‘Very well. Say you spoke in temper.’ I looked down past the marketplace, to the castle on its high mound. ‘Now, let us go and see how Master Boleyn fares.’

* * *

THERE WERE FEWER guards outside the castle, with some gone to keep order elsewhere. Leaving Barak and Nicholas outside, I asked to see John Boleyn and was taken to his cell. He was in surprisingly good spirits, the marks around his neck much fainter. He could speak again, albeit croakily. He was thinner, though, and still had that look of shock in his eyes. His cell now had the comfort of some cushions and a little writing table which Isabella had brought him. He thanked me profusely for returning the money. We spoke of the pardon, and I realized he had convinced himself its granting was just a matter of time. I hoped he was right.

He was still allowed to exercise on the roof of Norwich Castle and, accompanied by a guard, we mounted a long flight of stone steps. My back was hurting by the time we reached the top. The guard stayed in the doorway as we walked along the long, flat roof to the battlements. We stood a moment looking out over the busy marketplace and the spires of Norwich. The long drop to the ground, where men seemed as small as dots, made my head spin. I stepped back.

Boleyn had learned from the guards about the rebellions across the country, and the great camp at Mousehold. Like Chawry and Isabella, he was astonished to find I was now there, and that the camp was not a den of iniquity. I told him Kett hoped that soon the enclosure commissioners would arrive, and radical reform implemented. I went on to tell him that the twins and his neighbour Witherington were in rebel custody. He laughed bitterly. ‘I cannot think of a better fate for the three of them.’ He sighed. ‘Do not think me harsh, Master Shardlake, but I say again, I wash my hands entirely of my sons. To come to their father’s hanging and cheer it on ...’

‘I cannot blame you.’

He pondered. ‘So, the enclosures set up in recent years are being pulled down. What of the freed sheep?’

‘Taken to the camp for food. There has been mighty feasting, but I think now the sheep are being kept penned. I am told there are six or seven thousand people there now, and more coming in.’

Boleyn considered. ‘My small enclosures will no doubt be taken with the others. Unfair, when the real sheep-lords are those like the Pastons and Richard Southwell.’

I thought, but forbore to say, Tenants have suffered on Witherington’s land, and would have on yours, if his assault had succeeded.

He said, ‘You told me Thorpe Wood is being cut down for fuel. That is Paston land. In all this uproar perhaps my own small debts will be forgotten.’ He paused, his expression suddenly calculating. ‘My sons are friends with some of Southwell’s men. He is dangerous. I hired his boys, through my sons, when I learned Witherington would try to take my land. That was wrong. It would be good to see him fall.’ He turned away, looking out over the city. At this height there was a welcome breeze. ‘I wonder what will happen to Norwich,’ he said. ‘I hope Isabella stays safe.’ He turned and looked me in the eye. ‘You realize, of course, that the Protector, and the King’s Council who put him where he is, will never allow common people even the smallest share of rule. That has never happened, and never will, and never should. These camps will be destroyed.’

I inclined my head. ‘Kett’s camp has considerable forces, trained soldiers. I should think the other camps have, too. The Protector may well feel the pressure to make drastic changes. And Kett stresses his loyalty to the King.’

Boleyn looked at me in surprise. ‘Are you become one of them?’

I did not answer.

‘By Jesu, Master Shardlake, I owe you my life and what you have done for me and my wife puts me eternally in your debt. But I advise you, be careful of the waters in which you are treading. They may drown you.’ He shook his head, then changed the subject abruptly. ‘Is Richard Southwell taken by the rebels?’

‘No,’ I answered. I did not add that I had seen him at St Michael’s Chapel.

Boleyn frowned. ‘I thought he would have been.’

‘Have you met him?’ I asked.

‘No.’

I hesitated, then deciding to change the subject said, ‘Isabella is safe, and in good hands with Chawry to attend on her. But I noticed –’

His eyes were at once as sharp as needles. ‘Noticed what?’

‘I think Chawry has – feelings – for your wife. I believe both have behaved honourably but – I thought you should know.’