Heartstone (47 page)

We were in among the tents now, stepping over guy ropes. Some of the soldiers from the company waved or shouted greetings. Sulyard, sitting outside his tent carving something on his knife handle, gave me a nasty stare. Carswell halted before a large tent, the cross of St George on a little pole at the top. Leacon had just stepped out. 'Captain, sir,' Carswell called. 'A visitor.'

Leacon wore a round helmet, half-armour over his surcoat, his sword at his waist. The tent flap opened and I saw the Welsh boy Tom Llewellyn carrying a document case. Leacon's expression had been anxious, but his face relaxed into a smile as he saw us.

'Master Shardlake! Jack Barak!'

'We have come to Portsmouth on business. There is a hold-up at the gates, young Carswell saw us and brought us over.'

'Good! How is your wife, Jack?'

'Very well, according to her last letter.'

'George,' I said, 'there is something I would speak with you about.'

'About your steward who said he was at Flodden? I have some news there.'

'Have you? I would like to hear it. And George, there is someone else I seek, who may be in Portsmouth. It is important. A man called Philip West, who I believe is an officer on the King's ships.'

'Then he'll be here. Did you hear Lord Lisle's ships had just arrived? There was a skirmish near the Channel Islands. But listen, I must leave now, there is a meeting of the captains in the town: I have to join Sir Franklin Giffard there.' He turned to Llewellyn. 'I am taking young Tom here with me: many of the captains are from Wales and he knows some Welsh from his father.' He raised his eyebrows. 'Diplomacy.' The boy smiled nervously. 'Could you meet me in town later?' Leacon asked. 'Perhaps this afternoon.'

'Certainly. We have a meeting at ten, but after that will be free.'

'The Red Lion tavern for lunch then, say at twelve?'

'I should be pleased.'

'I will arrange for one of the officers I am meeting to stay behind to talk to you. He has an interesting tale to tell about good Master Coldiron.'

'What news of your company? How fare you, Llewellyn?'

'Well, sir. Though those ships fair affrighted us when we saw them.'

'Ay,' Leacon agreed. 'If the men are to go on them, they need to accustom themselves to being at sea. But those in charge keep arguing how best to use us, and nothing is done, for all they tell me how they value us as principal archers.' He sighed heavily. 'Come, will you walk with me back to the road?'

We made our way through the rows of tents. 'What news of the French?' I asked quietly.

He drew a little ahead of Llewellyn. 'Bad. Over two hundred ships gathering at the French ports, packed with thirty thousand soldiers. Lord Lisle encountered a host of their galleys off the Channel Islands last week. The weather turned bad, though, and there was no real action. We are going to need every man if they land here.' He looked at me seriously. 'Those galleys of theirs are large and fast, much superior to our galleasses, and rowed by slaves experienced in Mediterranean warfare. They have two dozen.' He gave me a sombre look. 'You know how many such galleys we have?' I shook my head. 'One.'

'When might they come?'

'A week, perhaps two. Much will depend on the weather, as always at sea.'

I was eager to talk about Coldiron, but saw Leacon was keen to move on. We were beyond the tents now. Then Barak pointed to where the men were practising at the butts and laughed. 'Look at that!'

Hugh and David, in defiance of Hobbey's orders, had dismounted and joined the archers. Hugh was bending to a longbow which he must have borrowed, and as I watched he sent an arrow flying. It hit the oyster shell, shattering it into a dozen pieces. The soldiers clapped. I saw Sulyard in the group, his enemy Pygeon standing at a little distance. A man at the other end of the range hurried up to the butts and fixed another oyster shell to the centre.

'Look at that fellow, sir,' Llewellyn said admiringly to Leacon.

Hugh handed the bow to David. David's arrow just missed the oyster shell and he scowled.

'Who are those lads?' Leacon asked curiously.

'My host's son and his ward.' I saw Hobbey and Dyrick talking agitatedly to Snodin the whiffler, who stood with hands on hips, an aggressive expression on his red face. Hugh bent to the bow again as we walked across to Hobbey and Dyrick.

'Get them away from there!' Hobbey was shouting to Snodin, more angry and agitated than I had ever seen him. 'Tell your men to stop their practice
now
.'

'But they have been ordered to practise,' Snodin replied in his deep voice, 'by Sir Franklin Giffard himself.' He waved a meaty hand at Leacon as we came up. 'Here, talk to Master Petty-Captain if you like.'

Leacon gave Hobbey and Dyrick a curt nod, then watched as Hugh sent another arrow flying to the oyster shell. Again he broke it. Hobbey grabbed Leacon's arm. 'Are you the captain of this rabble? Get my boys away from those butts. They are defying my explicit orders--'

Leacon pushed Hobbey's arm away. 'I do not care for your manners, sir,' he said sharply. 'Boys they may be, but few enough adults could pull a longbow like that, let alone shoot so well. They must be very well practised.'

'They'd make good recruits,' Snodin said maliciously. 'Especially the taller lad.'

'You insolent dog,' Hobbey snapped.

Dyrick spoke up. 'Captain Leacon, we have an appointment in the city with the feodary of Hampshire. We shall be late.' He looked over to the gates. The obstruction had been cleared and the carts were going slowly in. The bull's cage was just entering.

'I think you had better call Hugh and David over,' I said quietly to Leacon.

'For you, Master Shardlake, certainly. You keep a civil tongue in your head.' He called to the archers. 'Cease firing! You two young fellows, over here!'

Reluctantly, Hugh handed the bow back to its owner, and he and David walked over to us. Leacon smiled at them. 'Well done, lads. Fine shooting.' He looked at Hugh. 'You hit the mark twice in succession, young fellow.'

'We practise every day.' Hugh was staring at Leacon with something like awe. 'Sir, will we repel the French?'

'
You
won't!' Hobbey, still angry, grabbed him by the shoulder. David flinched and backed away, a frightened expression on his face. So he had not forgotten about yesterday after all.

Hugh turned on Hobbey, his face suddenly red with fury. 'Let me go!' For a second I thought he might lash out.

'Hugh,' I said quietly.

To my relief, Hugh brushed off Hobbey's arm and walked back to the horses. 'Till later,' I said to Leacon. 'I am sorry about that.'

He nodded. 'Back to practice, Goddams,' he called to the soldiers. We remounted and rode up to the gates; Leacon and Llewellyn had already passed through. Once again we were asked our business by the soldiers on guard before we were allowed through. As we rode through the barbican into the sunlight, I heard the steady beat of drums from within.

Chapter Twenty-six

W
ITHIN THE WALLS
, Portsmouth reminded me even more of the interior of a castle. The town was surrounded on all sides by the earth walls, sloping gently down on the inner side, where turf had been laid to stabilize the earth. Much of the enclosed area was given over to market gardens, the town itself being surprisingly small. The street facing us was the only one wholly built up with shops and cottages, the better ones with jutting upper storeys. I saw only one church, down towards the seafront, with another signal lantern on top of its square tower.

'This is the High Street,' Hobbey said. 'We are meeting Master Priddis at the new Guildhall halfway down.'

The street was unpaved, dusty from all the traffic, the air full of the heavy, cloying smell of brewing. We rode past tired-looking labourers, sunburnt sailors in woollen smocks with bare feet, soldiers in their round helmets who must have obtained passes into the town. A well-dressed merchant, a fine lace collar on his shirt, rode along with a pomander held to his nose, a clerk riding alongside calling out figures from a list. Like many others the merchant kept a hand on the purse at his belt.

People were haggling loudly at the open shopfronts. I heard a remarkable babel of tongues among the passers-by: Welsh, Spanish, Flemish. At every corner a little group of soldiers, in half-armour and carrying halberds, stood watching all who passed. I remembered the corner boys. The town crier, resplendent in his red uniform, passed up and down ringing a bell, shouting, 'All women who cannot prove residence by tomorrow will be removed as prostitutes!' A drunk staggered into the road, swigging from a pigskin gourd. 'Join King Harry's navy!' he shouted. 'Six and sixpence a month and all the beer you can drink!' He tottered towards Feaveryear, who pulled his horse aside. 'Godless creature,' he muttered angrily.

'Don't you like a drink now and then, Feaveryear?' Barak asked teasingly.

'My vicar says to keep out of taverns.'

'Sounds like my wife.'

'Hugh and David put up a remarkable show back there,' I said to Feaveryear.

'I envy Master Hugh his prowess.' The little clerk sighed.

'I would not envy him too much. I think his life is no bed of roses.'

Feaveryear stared at me. 'No, sir. You are wrong. Hugh has been brought up well. He is strong, skilled and learned. A true gentleman. It is as my master says; you have no cause against this family.' He spurred his horse and pulled ahead.

T
HE
G
UILDHALL
was a large, brightly painted wooden building of three storeys. An ostler took our horses to some stables behind. Hobbey told David to wait outside with the servants until we returned, warning them sternly to stay out of the taverns.

'I suppose you want Barak with you,' Dyrick said.

'Yes, Brother, I do.'

Dyrick shrugged. 'Come then, Sam.'

We stepped into a large central hall. A wooden staircase rose to an upper floor. People passed busily to and fro, royal officials and townsmen in their guild uniforms. Hobbey accosted a harassed looking clerk and asked for Sir Quintin Priddis.

'He's upstairs, sir. In the room facing the staircase. Are you the gentlemen come to see him? I fear you are a little late.'

Hobbey rounded on Hugh. 'That business at the butts! Gentlemen do not keep each other waiting.' Hugh shrugged.

We walked upstairs. Barak looked round disparagingly. 'A wooden Guildhall?'

'There can't be more than a few hundred living here normally. The townsfolk must feel swamped.'

We knocked on the door the clerk had indicated. A cultivated voice bade us enter. Inside was a meeting room, sparsely decorated and dominated by a large oaken table at which two men sat, a neat stack of papers before them. The younger wore a lawyer's robe; he was a little over forty, his dark hair worn long, his square face coldly handsome. The elder was in his sixties; grey-haired, wearing a brown robe. He sat crouched, one shoulder much higher than the other, and for a moment I thought Sir Quintin Priddis was another hunchback. Then I saw that one side of his face was frozen and that his left hand, which lay on the table, was a desiccated claw, bone white. He must have had a paralytic seizure. As coroner of Sussex, this was the man who had ordered Ellen to be forced screaming into a coach. Reverend Seckford had described him as a busy, bustling little fellow. Not any more.

We bowed and raised our heads to find two identical pairs of sharp, bright blue eyes examining us across the table.

'Well, this is quite a deputation,' the older man said. His voice was slurred, lisping. 'I had not thought to see so many. And a serjeant, no less. You must be Master Shardlake?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Sir Quintin Priddis, feodary of Hampshire. This is my son Edward, my assistant.' He glanced at the younger man, without affection I thought. 'Now, Master Hobbey I know, and this well-set-up young fellow must be Hugh.' He studied the boy closely. Hugh put up a hand to cover his scars. 'You have grown much, lad, since last I saw you. But why do you keep your hair polled so close? A good head of hair suits a young gentleman.'

'I am an archer, sir,' Hugh answered unemotionally. 'It is the way among us.'

A sardonic smile briefly distorted the right half of Sir Quintin's face. Hobbey said, 'This is Master Vincent Dyrick, my legal representative. The other two are the lawyers' clerks.'

'I am afraid there is a shortage of chairs in this poor place,' Priddis said. 'I cannot ask you to sit. But we shall not be here long; I have a meeting at eleven that cannot wait. Well, Master Shardlake, what questions have you for me?' He gave me a cold smile.

'You will know this case well, sir--'

'Not as a legal dispute.' Edward Priddis spoke quietly and precisely. 'My father knows this as an ordinary wardship, in his capacity as feodary. He assessed the initial value of the lands and has dealt with routine queries from Master Hobbey since then.'

Sir Quintin gave his crooked, mirthless half-smile. 'You see, my son too is a lawyer. As I was at the start of my career. He is right, but you, Master Shardlake, you believe there is some reason for concern.' I looked into those bright blue eyes, but could read nothing of the man except that he still had force and power.