Tombland

‘Yes, indeed.’ I exchanged a glance with John Boleyn, and somehow knew that visit would never happen, he would wish only to forget all that had happened in Norfolk. Besides, we had nothing in common. We conversed a little more; he did not mention the twins, and I had a feeling he never would again. Shortly after I took my farewell.

* * *

I WAS LEAVING the castle, preparing to pass that dreadful row of heads again, when I heard my name called. I turned to see John Flowerdew, like me in his black serjeant’s robe, a thick folder under his arm. His thin face wore a hard, triumphant smile. He walked towards me.

‘Well, Serjeant Flowerdew,’ I said. ‘So you have returned to Norwich now it is safe. I hope your wife and sons that you ran off and left are well.’

His expression hardened. ‘No thanks to you. I only got back two days ago, but already I have heard much news. I gather you surrendered yourself to the rebels, and made yourself of service to Robert Kett. Be thankful the behaviour of some gentlemen is not to be investigated too closely.’

‘Be grateful you escaped from Wymondham,’ I said.

‘I remember that day, when you told Kett you had come to get Boleyn’s money from me.’

‘As I had. It has kept him and his wife fed and well in the castle, and soon his pardon will be granted.’

Flowerdew smiled and tapped his folder. ‘Well, I have other fish to fry now. I am on my way to the courthouse. The gentlemen of Norfolk seek compensation for the livestock and other goods stolen by those wretched rebels; they are drowning the Earl of Warwick with petitions. Well, they will be compensated, one way or another. There will be good profit in it for me.’

‘You are a monster,’ I said, my voice shaking.

He laughed. ‘You call me that, you hunchbacked enemy of the right order of society ordained by God? Oh, by the way, Robert Kett and his brother are to be taken from the castle to the Guildhall prison tomorrow, then to London for trial. Afterwards there will be an inquisition post-mortem, and I shall be present, to give evidence as to the value of Robert Kett’s land and goods. They will go to the King, and, who knows, some of them may be used to remit the losses of the gentlemen.’ He smiled. ‘I look forward to that day.’

I turned in disgust and walked away, hearing his creaky laughter as again I passed that row of severed heads.

* * *

THE FOLLOWING DAY , another mellow autumn morning, we prepared to leave Norwich at last. But there was one more grim sight to endure. The horses that Master Theobald had duly supplied for us had been brought round from the stables and as we were about to mount I noticed an unusual number of soldiers in the marketplace. Then I saw a horse-drawn cart, surrounded by more soldiers with halberds, making its way up to the Guildhall. Standing in it, hands tied behind his back, was Robert Kett. He wore a cheap smock, and his face was bruised and filthy, but he stared defiantly ahead, chin lifted, his bearing still proud. He was taken to the Guildhall, past the gallows and the heads staked outside, then the tail of the cart was lowered and he was roughly taken down and led inside. Beside me I heard Liz mutter, ‘God save you, Captain Kett.’

* * *

AND SO WE RODE out of Norwich, Mousy secured to Liz’s front with tight swaddling. Her late father had been a blacksmith’s assistant, and she knew how to ride. None of us spoke as we rode down St Stephen’s Street and through the gate. On the outside the emblem of the bear and ragged staff were nailed, together with the arm and upper body of another rebel, where black crows fluttered and pecked. We lowered our heads. Once out on the road, though, I took a last look back at Mousehold Heath in the distance, black from the burning of the camp, bare and empty now. For a moment I seemed to hear poor Simon Scambler again, and the song he had sung round the campfire, as sparks flew up to the night sky:

my life will change utterly

since my sinful eyes saw

this noble land so much admired

Gone, I thought, all gone.

Chapter Eighty-four