Tombland

Michael Vowell stepped in. ‘Leave Master Shardlake alone! Surely he’s done enough to show himself our friend. And you’ve all had too much beer. You’ve lost the point. Which is that the Protector has betrayed us, and we must force the great ones of the realm into submission, not rely on him to do it for us. Defeat this army, then secure all Norfolk and spread out across England, bring those defeated camps back into existence.’

‘That’s right,’ Natty agreed emphatically.

‘And start killing some of the gentlemen we have in custody, as a warning!’ Milford said.

‘I didn’t say that,’ Vowell answered quickly.

Hector Johnson spoke firmly. ‘Captain Kett is against killing them.’

Milford stood up. ‘Kett – Kett – Kett – it’s all we ever hear! Don’t you see, his notion of working with the Protector has failed! The commissions have gone, the other camps are being bribed or threatened or pulled down by force!’

Master Dickon, who was not as drunk as he seemed, stood up. ‘Don’t you criticize Captain Kett, bor! Look at what he’s done – led us here, brought justice to all, taken Norwich itself. He didn’t have to, he could have stayed at home with his family!’

Josephine said, ‘Please stop this, it does no good.’ Nobody paid any attention and she went to her hut where Mousy, disturbed by the noise, had begun crying.

One of the other men stood, swaying slightly on his feet. ‘We will win the battle to come! We have the men, we have the resolution, and behind us, if not the Protector, we have the King, as I heard a prophet say today! Captain Kett is too soft, Milford is right – we should have some executions as a warning!’

Hector Johnson approached him, his hand on the knife at his belt. ‘Shut your clack-box! You forget you’re part of an army, and under orders. Perhaps you need reminding!’

‘I’ll give you fucking orders,’ Milford said, his hand going swiftly to his own belt.

Simon Scambler stood up, wringing his hands. ‘Please! We should all be friends! We should all work together!’

Milford turned on him. ‘Shut up, freak! I heard a story about your antics from one of the Norwich lads.’ Like many men, too much drink had put him in a vicious mood. He went on, ‘Sooty they call you, you wander about singing. Well, go on then, give us a song!’

Simon looked at him a moment, and I thought he would burst into tears. But then he stood up, walked a little away from the fire, and slowly began to sing. It was a song I had heard before, an old German one, ‘Jerusalem’. It should have been accompanied by a lute, but Simon’s clear, beautiful voice was enough to stop the argument in its tracks. I see him singing now, his head outlined against the stars and the half-moon, sparks from the campfires twirling up to the dark sky:

My life will change utterly

since my sinful eyes saw

this noble land so much admired

so that I live in a noble way.

What I most wanted has come to pass,

I have come to that land

where God walked in the form of man.

Beautiful, rich and noble land

such as I have never yet seen,

Are you, above all the lands I have known.

What wonders have occurred here!

A maid bore a child,

Lord over all the host of angels,

Was that not a wonder indeed?

As the song ended there was silence, then Hector Johnson began to clap, and others followed. Simon stood blinking, surprised and delighted.

‘I’m going to bed,’ Milford said grumpily. One after another, everyone went to their huts.

Natty came and clapped Simon’s shoulder. ‘You saved the day, bor.’

‘So you did,’ I agreed.

Simon smiled, a smile of wonder, as though he had indeed seen Jerusalem. Barak shook his head. ‘The sooner this army comes, the better, there’s nothing worse than waiting.’

‘I don’t think we’ll have to wait long,’ I answered quietly.

Chapter Sixty-two

It was Tuesday, 30 July. Scouts reported that Northampton’s forces would arrive at Norwich the next morning. The weather had turned close again, thick and humid, as Barak and I joined the crowd assembled under the Oak to hear the Kett brothers and Captain Miles address the camp. Those who would fight tomorrow were drawn up in ranks under their officers, bowmen and spearmen and cannoneers – the cannon were to be dragged down the hill today and set to face Bishopsgate Bridge.