Tombland

Kett banged the table again. ‘As my brother and I are the only one of the yeoman class sitting here, you might as well say! But you’re right, Lockswood, the betrayal could have come from London.’ He looked at us all again. ‘But be aware that until that question is resolved you are all under suspicion.’ Nobody stirred. Kett said, ‘Get about your duties. Master Shardlake, there are some trials of thieves to be held. Please join Master Doughty at the Oak of Reformation. I want these out of the way before the battle.’

We left St Michael’s Chapel in silence, tears flowing down Hector Johnson’s face at the thought he was under suspicion.

* * *

I WALKED TO THE OAK , eyes cast down, deeply troubled that I should be suspected. It was typical of Toby Lockswood to take the chance to dig at me, and I was glad Kett had put him in his place. If it was one of us, then who? Not the Kett brothers, and surely not old Hector Johnson. And all the others – Edward Brown, Michael Vowell, and, to do him credit, Toby Lockswood, had been devoted to our cause from the beginning. I knew less of Peter Bone, but from the first time I met him he had been a strong Commonwealth sympathizer. It occurred to me, as it had before, that after his double bereavement Toby Lockswood might not be fully in his right mind. But his devotion to the cause had only intensified since then – I could not see him selling out for money. I thought, I will probably be watched again, but I still had naught to hide.

I found that morning’s work under the Oak depressing, not helped by having to wear my robe in the heat and humidity. The sky was a uniform grey; another storm coming. More thieves where found guilty, others had their cases dismissed for lack of evidence. There were some brawlers, too, nearly all younger men, who were sentenced to expulsion from the camp. Afterwards, as we walked away from the Oak, Doughty told me he had been made captain of a company for tomorrow’s battle; like many of the Hundred representatives he had had a share in organizing the regular official musters in his area, which were organized by Hundreds. ‘I shall send a few fine gentleman to their reward in hell,’ he said. I was surprised by his fierceness, but he continued, ‘They decided to attack us, when all we want is peace and justice. Let them pay the price.’

* * *

I WALKED BACK TO the huts for lunch. All the Swardeston men had gone for training, and only Mistress Everneke, Barak, Josephine and Mousy sat outside their huts, fanning themselves with pieces of bark. Josephine told me Edward had gone into Norwich; to prepare their allies in the city, no doubt. She said she needed to go to the jakes, and asked me to hold Mousy. The little girl was fractious in the sweaty heat, and struggled against me. She began to grizzle, but stopped as I held her close. Josephine returned and took her back. She looked weary. ‘Are you all right?’ I asked.

‘Yes.’ She smiled sadly. ‘It looks as though I was right to leave Norwich, doesn’t it?’

‘We thought so.’

‘Yes.’ She looked me in the eye. ‘But what if we lose, and they come here from the city afterwards?’

* * *

TO TRY AND SETTLE my troubled spirits, after lunch I went for a walk, despite the heat. I went to where Simon and several others were training the horses, trying to settle the more fractious of them. So awkward otherwise, he rode a horse, as he sang, as though born to it. I stood leaning on the heavy wooden fence surrounding the paddock. He rode up and brought his mount to a halt. ‘You are doing well, Simon,’ I said. ‘Will you be taking the horses down to Norwich?’

‘Yes, we will be using them to take more cannon downhill this afternoon, and I will be helping with them later as required.’ He swallowed, and I saw deep anxiety in his eyes.

‘You will be all right, I am sure.’

‘I fear –’ he began, then stopped.

‘More bloodshed?’

‘If I am killed – I cannot help thinking, what if all my aunt’s church said is true, and I am sent to hell for my denial of true religion?’

I said quietly, ‘When I was growing up, we still had the old Catholic faith, and believe it or not, for a little while I believed I had a vocation. Then all the changes came, and under King Henry we were ordered to believe one thing one year, another the next. And now we have the Protestant radicals. Why should your aunt’s church have the truth of it any more than any of the others?’ I smiled. ‘And you have led a charitable life. That still counts for something, I believe.’ I reached up and laid a hand on his arm. ‘No one is less deserving of hell than you, if hell there is.’

‘Thank you, Master Shardlake,’ he said quietly. ‘I will try to remember that.’

* * *

I WALKED SLOWLY back to the huts. On my way I passed men digging a fresh cesspit, and to my surprise I saw that, once again, Peter Bone was among them.