Tombland

To my surprise, Boleyn laughed, a harsh cynical laugh that set him coughing. When he recovered himself he said, in bitter tones, ‘Do you think I did not know that, Master Shardlake? The penalty of an older man being married to a young and pretty wife is that others often desire her. Perhaps Chawry, loyal servant though he is, would take Isabella from me if he could. But he cannot; because, you see, though it may be hard for you to believe, we are as much in love as the day we met. Seeing others’ eyes on her is the price I must pay for loving her.’ He frowned. ‘It is a small penalty compared with those Edith laid on me, in life and now in death.’ He fingered the marks on his throat. I thought, Does no one ever pity Edith, think of her terrible and humiliating end? I met Boleyn’s angry gaze, and asked quietly, ‘Have you had any thoughts about where Edith might have been all those years before she returned to Norfolk and was killed?’

He made a gesture of irritation. ‘No. In life and death, Edith was a mystery, and so I think it will remain.’

* * *

BY NOW IT WAS midday; we found an inn at the top of Conisford Street, and took some lunch. My back, which had been so improved in the camp, was hurting again after a morning walking the Norwich streets, and I was glad to lean against a settle. After lunch, seeing I was tired, Barak asked if I wished to return to the camp, but I insisted I wanted to visit Josephine and Edward, who were nearby, then Scambler’s aunt. I could not help thinking of that poor boy, homeless on the streets.

We made our way to the little courtyard hovel where Edward and Josephine lived; dressed raggedly, we attracted little attention now. I knocked on Josephine’s door. She answered, little Mousy on her hip. The child looked better for some good feeding, smiled happily and stretched out her arms to us. Josephine, though, looked tired and anxious. She stared at us in surprise.

‘Master Shardlake, I thought you had left. Your clothes, you look like –’

‘Camp-men,’ Barak answered. ‘We fell into Captain Kett’s hands. We have a day’s parole in Norwich, so are making visits.’

Josephine ushered us inside and laid Mousy in her cradle. The little girl reached out and grasped my finger, trying to pull me down to put it in her mouth. I said gently, ‘It would not taste nice, Mousy, it is dirty.’

Josephine looked between the three of us. ‘How are you being treated? I have heard from Edward that many gentlemen have been buffled about. Not that a lot of them don’t deserve it, but – Master Nicholas, your face –’

‘He’d be all right if he could keep his mouth shut,’ Barak said. ‘As for Master Shardlake and I, we are well treated.’

‘Captain Kett has asked me to give him legal advice at his proposed trials of the gentlemen. He has promised there will be no severe punishments. I have promised to assist to see the law is observed, so far as it can be in the strange circumstances. But Josephine, keep that quiet. There are those in London and elsewhere who, if they knew –’ I thought of Parry, and Elizabeth. She nodded her understanding.

‘Where is Edward?’ I asked.

She hesitated, then said, ‘Up at the camp. He went at first light. There is a meeting between Captain Kett, his chief soldier Miles and the other experienced soldiers in the camp, with the leaders of their supporters in Norwich.’ I remembered the meeting old Hector Johnson had gone to. She went on, a mixture of pride and anxiety in her voice. ‘Edward is to help coordinate the poor of south Norwich. In case the city fathers decide to close the gates against the camp once more.’ She added, in scarce above a whisper, ‘If that happens, the camp will take over the city. Edward says it will be easy.’

Barak nodded agreement. ‘Norwich has few soldiers, and now we are up on Mousehold the camp-men could easily get across the Wensum.’

Josephine said, ‘I know I can trust you to tell nobody. I support all that Edward and Captain Kett are doing, but – I fear what may happen if there is violence. I remember the past.’

I put my hand on her arm. Josephine was originally a French child taken by English soldiers after her village was burned down during the old king’s wars, and left in the care of a brutish man who called himself her father but treated her like a slave. I said gently, ‘Captain Kett is a man of peace. If the enclosure commissioners come, a display of force may help them get the reforms they want. That, I think, is all.’

‘The old king would have had them all killed.’

‘He is dead,’ Barak said. ‘Protector Somerset is different.’

‘Or so we hope,’ I added quietly. ‘Nicholas, I am sorry to say, keeps getting into trouble. Today he accused Kett of being a traitor in the marketplace. I fear he will be locked up again if word gets back to the camp, which it probably will.’ I looked at her. ‘Might Edward put in a word for him? Say he knows him and that although he is a gentleman he has never oppressed anyone, and is goodhearted, even though he cannot control his mouth?’