Tombland

On the way we saw more grim sights; a cart containing bloodied bodies and severed heads, probably of those executed at the Oak of Reformation. The Earl of Warwick had indeed worked fast. His popularity among the wealthier citizens was clear; the emblem of the bear and ragged staff was nailed to many doors. I wondered bitterly whether he had brought a supply with him.

The marketplace was still the filthy mess Nicholas had described, men from the poorer classes set to clean the debris left by Warwick’s soldiers. The gallows by the Guildhall had half a dozen bodies dangling from it. There was a little crowd; more men would probably soon be brought to share their fate. I remembered the day when I had saved Boleyn, the woman with the doll writhing in her death agonies. I looked away, feeling faint for a moment. Nicholas pressed my arm.

We made for Isabella’s old inn, where, to our relief, we were offered two rooms. I made it clear that although Isabella had had money, the rest of us did not, but my serjeant’s robe, and the marks on my wrists which I was careful to let the innkeeper see, sufficed. ‘I have many officers here,’ he said ruefully, ‘and only the earl’s treasurer’s promise that I will be paid. I’m sure your word is as good as his. And there has been no Wednesday market this week, of course, so none of the wealthier traders have come to stay. Damn those rebels. But hopefully the traders will return on Saturday.’ He grimaced. ‘I’m told the soldiers will be selling things taken from the bodies at Dussindale.’

* * *

I WANTED TO GO to Gawen Reynolds’s house immediately, but Barak and Nicholas said we were all exhausted, it could wait until tomorrow.

‘God’s death,’ I said impatiently, ‘he’s the last witness to all that happened to Edith – Peter Bone is dead and Michael Vowell beyond reach, wherever the Protector sent him. We need a living witness.’ But even as I spoke I felt my head swim again and said wearily, ‘All right, tomorrow morning.’

‘There’s Southwell, too,’ Nicholas said. ‘He was intimately involved in the whole thing.’

‘You saw him at Dussindale, he’s at Warwick’s right hand now. We can’t deal with him ourselves, but we can inform Parry and the Lady Elizabeth about his involvement, and about the money he gave Robert Kett, and ask them to inform William Cecil.’ My voice hardened. ‘But Reynolds is a different matter. I say we should take him now.’

‘He’s not going anywhere,’ Barak said impatiently. ‘Not even outside, I shouldn’t think. Tomorrow is soon enough.’

I nodded and sank down on the bed. I could not help reflecting that, though younger, Barak and Nicholas looked as exhausted as me. We were at the back of the inn, with only a view of the stableyard. I was glad, for I had no doubt more hangings would be taking place in the marketplace.

I slept most of the day, waking only to take dinner. Afterwards, I went next door to visit Liz Partlett, tapping carefully before I was called to enter lest she was feeding Mousy. The baby, though, was fast asleep on the bed, little bubbles of milk at the corners of her mouth, while Liz sat sewing.

‘Is all well?’ I asked.

She stood and curtsied. ‘Yes, sir, I have cleaned the child thoroughly and she fed like a bezzler.’ She smiled. ‘I think she’s beginning to teethe.’

I looked at the wet-nurse gratefully. She had asked nothing about the details of Mousy’s parents’ death; but there had been so many deaths in Norfolk this last week. I turned to the sleeping child, her tiny, plump, yet perfect little fingers. I hesitated a moment, then came to a decision. ‘We plan to leave Norwich and ride to London by way of Hatfield, tomorrow or the next day at the latest. Would you come with us?’ Liz looked doubtful, so I quickly added, ‘Once we are back in London I will engage a wet-nurse there, and pay for you to be accompanied safely back here.’

She returned my look, and I was surprised to see anger flare in her blue eyes, though her voice remained low. ‘I will not return to Norwich, sir,’ she said. ‘My husband is dead, my child is dead, and Norwich is become a city of death.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I should tell you now, sir, if you plan on taking me to London, my husband was Kett’s man. Our child died in the plagues this spring, as much of hunger as sickness, as my David had no work. When the rebellion started, he went to Mousehold, with my blessing. He died a month ago, fighting the Earl of Northampton’s forces. I had a job as a wet-nurse with a merchant family, but they knew who my husband was and after the Marquess of Warwick’s victory they cast me out.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I have seen the marks on your and Master Overton’s wrists and I guess you were among the gentlemen prisoners set before the earl’s forces. So I should tell you my background before some gossip whispers it.’ She lifted her small, shapely chin.