Tombland (The Shardlake series Book 7)

by C. J. Sansom

  ‘You did much to help us on the Boleyn case. I thought we worked well together.’

  He looked at me, his blue suddenly eyes fierce. ‘I have always kept a doin’ with the work I’ve been given. Though I didn’t much care what happened to Boleyn. But now I labour for the right order of the country.’

  The main door of the chapel was closed, guarded by men in half-armour carrying halberds. Toby led me round to a side entrance. As we approached, a door opened and two men came out. My eyes widened in astonishment at the sight of Sir Richard Southwell, whom I had seen last with the Lady Mary, together with his man John Atkinson, the twins’ friend. They were dressed only in plain shirts and hose, no doubt to fit in at the camp. When he saw me Southwell’s face betrayed a flash of anger before resuming its usual haughty expression. He looked down at me from those heavy-lidded eyes.

  ‘Master Shardlake,’ he said. ‘So you are become a rebel.’

  ‘I was brought here,’ I said. ‘You seem to be here of your own will, though, Sir Richard.’

  ‘Things have reached the stage where certain negotiations are needed.’ He leaned over me. ‘You did not see us here, you understand? Just as I did not see you. Better for both of us once this matter reaches its end.’ He nodded at Atkinson, who gave me a surly look, and the two walked down the steep road to the river, Southwell showing some sort of pass to the guard on duty.

  I looked incredulously at Toby. ‘That man, here? One of the biggest sheep farmers in Norfolk? I would have thought you’d have had him in Surrey Place.’

  He gave me a steely look. ‘As he said, you didn’t see him. And now, Captain Kett awaits you.’

  We entered a small anteroom. Toby opened the door to the main chapel and I stepped in. The walls were still brightly decorated and the old stained glass remained. Nothing else, though, of its religious function survived. The steps rising to what had once been the altar now led to an area where a large table had been placed, stacked with papers, a couple of truckle beds beside it. A pair of thick curtains had been erected over the front, which could be drawn to provide a degree of privacy. In the body of the chapel tables had been set around the walls, where men sat writing. By the main door the tall figure of Robert Kett, his grey hair and beard neatly trimmed as always, was talking to Mayor Codd, the old man in aldermanic robes and the two clerics. ‘I am sorry I had to leave you just now,’ he said, his manner amiable. ‘A piece of urgent business.’ I thought, Did that mean he had been talking to Southwell in that little office? Kett continued, ‘Well, then, it is agreed, the Norwich gates will be opened tomorrow, and there will be an additional market day. And do not fear, our people will keep the peace. This camp, after all, has been set up in the name of the King. And Master Watson, Master Conyers, your preaching in the camp will be welcome.’

  ‘It may help curb some of the wide-eyed prophets we saw,’ Codd said.

  Kett inclined his head. ‘There are a few wilder spirits here.’

  Conyers, a young cleric with a thin ascetic face and a preacher’s deep voice, said, ‘Did you hold services in the camp today?’

  ‘We have ministers of religion among us. They held services, all with the new Prayer Book.’

  ‘No discontent about that?’

  ‘None. All here are happy to follow the new rules in religion.’

  The two clerics looked satisfied. Kett shook hands with them, then Mayor Codd and the old man, whom he addressed as Master Aldrich. As the door closed on them, Kett smiled thoughtfully. Then he turned to me, his face suddenly serious, and I was conscious of the power in those penetrating brown eyes. ‘Master Shardlake. Welcome to our administrative centre. It is time, I think, we had a serious talk. Come.’ He walked up the steps to the altar. As I followed him I cast my eye over the men working, wondering what papers they were transcribing. Kett closed the curtains behind us and stood facing me, his expression calculating, a little intimidating. To break the silence I said, ‘You seem to have done a remarkable job of organization, sir.’

  He grunted. ‘I spent many years organizing my business, the religious guilds, and contesting with corrupt and greedy officials over the abbey church and lands. Most of all I contested with Flowerdew. Once you have dealt with him you can deal with anyone, I think.’

  ‘He is – a strange man.’

  ‘I expect he has fled to London. I may release his sons, they are just frightened boys.’

  ‘I think that true.’

  ‘How is Master Overton? Since I ordered his release he has not been seen around the camp, unlike you and Jack Barak.’

  I thought, He does have a good intelligence system. ‘I think he felt humiliated by his imprisonment. But he will make no trouble, his word is his bond.’

  He gave me a hard look. ‘Your client’s sons, the Boleyn twins, have been troublesome. They will not be released; they would only join the gentry who will already be gathering against us. They may be transferred to Norwich Castle – yes, Mayor Codd has even agreed to that.’

  ‘I can only agree they are an extremely dangerous pair.’

  I found myself glancing at the beds. Kett said, ‘Here is where I work and sleep. My wife Alice will not return to Wymondham without me. A good and loyal woman.’

  His words brought Isabella Boleyn to mind. Were she and the steward Chawry still in Norwich, or had they returned to a wrecked Brikewell? I looked up, to see Kett staring interrogatively at me. ‘I am sorry,’ I said. ‘I was just thinking of people I know in Norwich.’

  ‘John Boleyn?’

  ‘And his family.’

  ‘Well,’ Kett said. ‘You may be able to visit the city shortly. As you heard, I have just been talking with the mayor and Alderman Aldrich, the second wealthiest man in Norwich. Shortly I will send word around the camp that Norwich is open to us. The city sent a messenger to London when the rebellion started, and the Protector has asked only that the two clerics you saw, Watson and Conyers, be allowed to preach to the camp twice a day. The market will be reopened, and the men have been given money, wages, from village funds. ‘Some money has been appropriated from the gentry, and – other new sources.’ He did not elaborate, and I wondered whether Southwell might have paid Kett handsomely to leave the Lady Mary and his own large flocks alone.

  Kett continued solemnly. ‘And I have intelligence that new camps have also been established at Ipswich and Bury. The Ipswich camp numbers a thousand and is already dispensing justice to the gentry. That news, too, will be passed around the camp. And tomorrow we make our first military endeavour, to take Yarmouth. Then we will have control of a major port, and as many herrings as we want.’ He leaned forward, excitement in his voice now. ‘Our enterprise is succeeding, Master Shardlake, everywhere. I do not delude myself that the Norwich city fathers are acting in anything but their own self-interest; they know that if we chose, we could descend the hill, cross the Wensum, and take everything from the rich merchants with the aid of the Norwich poor. But we shall do everything lawfully. So, given that assurance, will you confirm that you will assist me at the trials we shall soon hold?’

  ‘I gave my oath that where the law and justice are concerned I will advise you honestly wherever I can.’

  ‘Good. And remember, we act in the name of the King and the Protector, to further their desire for reform.’

  I thought of all I had seen done in the camp, and for the first time wondered whether Kett could be right after all, and that the camps here and elsewhere might ensure the commissioners brought a new justice to the countryside – or even brought it without them.

  Kett continued enthusiastically, ‘Nearby, under a great ancient oak, a place of assembly and justice is being constructed. We shall hold our counsels there, and the camp will gather to pass sentence on the gentlemen we have taken – and on some of our own who have selfishly appropriated monies from the manor houses instead of giving them to the common purse.’ He frowned. ‘It is a disgrace, that men should cheat their fellows, here of all places.’

  I v
entured, ‘Is that not just people being people, Captain Kett?’

  He frowned, and I thought, for all of his extraordinary abilities and stout heart, in some ways he was a naive man. He continued, ‘Those who have abused the privileges of the camp will be expelled, gentlemen who, it is decided, have done no wrong will be released, while those who deserve it will have their crimes noted before they are returned to Surrey Place or Norwich Castle.’

  ‘There will be no hangings or mutilations?’

  ‘None. I told you, this camp will be a place of peace and order. And the trials will be conducted in accordance with the rules of evidence, on which you can advise me where necessary. I need you all the more, since the young lawyer Thomas Godsalve has run away.’

  ‘I remember the wretched cottagers and smallholders I represented at the Court of Requests for years, till Richard Rich took my post from me,’ I said quietly. ‘Even when I won a case – and there were a good many – I knew they were but a drop in the ocean of injustice.’

  He nodded approval, then sighed. ‘My legs are tired. I have been walking around the camp since dawn, interviewing the newly elected governors. Let us sit down.’ I looked at his clever, determined face, his large solid figure, but remembered he was a decade older than me.

  We seated ourselves opposite each other at the table. ‘What do you hope to achieve, Captain Kett, at the end of it all?’

  ‘A return to the fairer times of the past, but more than that. A share for the common people in the appointment of local officials, and in future enclosure commissions, which should be made permanent.’

  ‘So that authority in the locality is no longer limited to the gentlemen and officials?’

  Kett spoke with sudden force. ‘Are we not showing here that we do not need the gentlemen to govern ourselves? I know you doubt the great men of the land will accept that, Master Shardlake, but I believe the Protector is with us, and our camps across England will persuade the Council they must accept. This is no Peasants’ Revolt or Cade’s Rebellion, desperate military uprisings against the rulers. This is different.’

  Again I thought, He is naive, he does not understand that all the Protector truly cares about is the Scottish war. I took a deep breath and said, ‘Captain Kett, may I speak frankly?’

  He spread his work-roughened hands. ‘Everyone in this camp may speak freely. Even those who oppose what we are doing will be allowed their voice at our new place of assembly. We are calling it the Oak of Reformation, is that not a wonderful name?’

  I thought, ‘Oak of Reformation.’ These days that carried a double meaning: reformation of the Church, or the welfare of the State, or both. It was cleverly ambiguous. I framed my reply carefully. ‘Most of the King’s Council, and all men of status, believe it to be God’s law that the head should govern the foot in society, and those who are not gentlemen – who do not need to do manual work for their living – should not govern. I am with you in my heart, but I fear you underestimate the power and hostility of those in power.’

  I feared Kett might be angry, but he answered calmly. ‘Those rules are not God’s law, but men’s. They have led to desperate injustice, and must be remedied. We do not wish to overthrow society, but reform it – and the only way to do that is to give the common people some say.’ His voice hardened. ‘And to let the gentlemen know, when they return, that their powers, which they have abused, are not limitless. The days when a man had to remove his cap and bow and scrape before being even allowed to address his lord are over.’

  I ventured a smile. ‘Though from my recollections, Norfolk men were less inclined to servility than most.

  ‘True,’ Kett said, ‘but that can only help so far when true power lies with the landlords. See there –’ he pointed to a little clock set on the table. ‘That was taken from one of the manor houses on the way here. Something so simple, so necessary in a camp like this, so we might tell the hour – yet beyond the means of all but a few who are here. And a new hour has struck, Master Shardlake, decreed by God, true Reformation both of religion and of the earthly world. That is why I say the name of our assembly place is a wonderful one.’

  I answered. ‘Can any of us truly know that such an hour has struck?’

  Kett looked at me intently, then said quietly, ‘I was a loyal Catholic once, friend to the old Abbot of Wymondham. He was a good man, I named my son after him, but I see now that in religion he was wrong. After the abbey went down a new preacher came to Wymondham, a true Protestant, Henry King. Gradually, I came to see that he was right. I began to study the Bible, and now see that true Christianity lies in faith, and struggle for a true Commonwealth.’ He shook his head. ‘I have spent too much of my life building up treasures.’

  I smiled sadly, and began to quote some lines: ‘ “I regarded little God’s Word, but gave myself to vanities and shadows of the world. I forsook Him, in whom is all truth, and followed the vain, foolish imaginings of my heart.” ’

  Kett looked at me with interest. ‘That is exactly right. Who said that?’

  ‘The late Queen Catherine Parr, in her Lamentation of a Sinner.’

  ‘Ah, she was a friend to true religion.’ He leant forward eagerly. ‘You have true Bible faith, like her?’

  ‘Once I did, but now I am uncertain in all things.’

  ‘Do you think Queen Catherine would have supported what we are doing?’

  I shook my head sadly. ‘No. I think she would have seen you as rebels and rioters, as her brother-in-law Sir William Herbert did when he put down those who rebelled against him in May.’

  ‘Most cruelly, I am told.’

  ‘Yes.’

  He looked at me, ran a hand through his grey beard, and said quietly, ‘Thank you for speaking honestly, Serjeant Shardlake. But I think you are a man with too much doubt in your soul.’

  I thought but did not say, and perhaps you have too little. There was silence for a moment, then Kett squared his shoulders and spoke, suddenly businesslike again, ‘All the camps are sending petitions to the Protector, summarizing their grievances. Our governors are drawing up a preliminary petition now. We must get it to London, as the other camps are doing. Perhaps I may ask you to look it over when it is done, to make sure it is not too clumsily written.’

  ‘If you wish.’

  ‘And meanwhile, to ensure that our collections of food and other resources from the gentry have legal status, we are preparing warrants. That is what those men here are doing.’ He produced a paper from his desk. ‘What think you of this?’

  I took the paper and read:

  We, the King’s friends and deputies, do grant license to all men to provide and bring into the camp at Mousehold all manner of cattle and provision of vittles, in what place soever they may find the same, so that no violence or injury be done to any honest or poor man: commanding all persons, as they tend to the King’s honour and Royal Majesty, and the relief of the Commonwealth, to be obedient to us the Governors, and to those whose names ensue.

  Signed: Robert Kett.

  Two more names which I did not recognize, written like the rest of the document in a neat secretary hand, had been appended but not yet actually signed.

  ‘Whose are the other names?’ I asked.

  ‘The camp governors of the particular Hundreds in which the warrants are to be applied. Receipts will be given to those from whom goods are taken.’

  ‘And yet –’

  ‘Yes –’

  I took a deep breath. ‘Forgive me, but you have no actual authority from the King or the Protector. This, Captain Kett, is not legal.’

  His eyes hardened again. ‘Everything we do is to further the interests of the King, the Protector, and the commissioners. Does this not show we intend to act legally, in the name of the King?’

  ‘That is an argument,’ I said cautiously, though in law it seemed little more than licensed theft – albeit from those who had more than they needed, and to supply the camp. Unintentionally, I laughed. ‘Captain Kett, you make my h
ead spin.’

  Unexpectedly, he laughed back. ‘I make my own head spin, at the labours that have fallen on me, all the things we must do. We are building a smithy to shoe horses and make weapons, and ovens to make bread.’

  ‘How long do you think you will be here?’

  ‘As long as it takes.’ He thought for a moment, then smiled. ‘You see, we have the whip hand. I know only too well what the Council and the Parliament think of us, though I believe the Protector is our friend. And in any event, the camps have the numbers, the organization and, in our case’ – he raised an eyebrow – ‘the gentlemen, as prisoners and hostages.’

  ‘What if they send forces against you, as they have the southwestern rebels?’

  Kett smiled. ‘They call for the return of the Mass. We, though, are loyal to the new order in religion. And with an army sent to the west, and all other forces in Scotland, where is the Council to get an army from?’ His face suddenly became serious, his eyes hard.

  I said, ‘You have thought it all through, sir.’

  He clenched a fist. ‘Now is the time, now is our chance.’

  I did not reply. Kett smiled again. ‘I have enjoyed talking to you, Master Shardlake. You speak directly, unlike most lawyers. I am going down to Norwich tomorrow, to visit Codd and Aldrich. Go there too, if you wish, visit your friends, then on Tuesday, help me do justice at the Oak of Reformation. Advise me, make notes of what is said.’ He hesitated, then added, ‘Your man Barak, I hear he can write tolerably well with his left hand?’

  ‘Yes. He has made great efforts to do so.’

  ‘Good. Then he can be your scribe at the Oak.’ He looked at me keenly. ‘He is wholly with us.’

  I nodded. ‘I think he is.’ Suddenly I thought of Tamasin, far away in London. And I thought, too, Kett is a clever politician; now he has drawn me even deeper into the work of the camp.