Heartstone (54 page)

'No, I have more scars there, they itch.' He scratched again, but carefully.

'Do you wear Emma's cross there?' I asked gently.

He looked up. 'No, Master Shardlake, I keep it in my drawer. I find it hard to look at.'

'That is sad.'

'Perhaps you should not have brought it. No, I still wear my heartstone. You are right, I do not love the Hobbeys. You are good at getting people to talk, sir. But if I cannot go to war, then I will stay here. That is my wish, and you may say so to the Court of Wards.'

'Why, Hugh?'

He spread his long-fingered hands, gave another bitter laugh. 'Where else would I go? I am used to the life here, and I do not want a court battle with Master Hobbey. In three years I can sue out my livery and leave.'

'And then what will you do? Go for a soldier?'

'Perhaps.'

'If I can help you then, Hugh, you will find me at Lincoln's Inn.'

He smiled sadly again. 'Thank you, Master Shardlake.' He looked at me intently. 'In three years - yes, then I may need a friend in the world beyond this place.'

S
OME BIRDS
flapping their wings in one of the trees surrounding the glade brought me back to myself. I stood and walked back through the wood to a big clearing; there were about thirty people there. Hobbey and the huntsman Avery, together with Fulstowe and Sir Luke Corembeck and two other well-dressed middle-aged men, were bent over a plan of the park set on a sawn-off tree trunk. Large white cloths had been set on the grass, strewn with cushions. There Lady Corembeck sat with two middle-aged ladies. All were dressed for company, the women's dresses silk and satin, fashionable hoods covering their hair, faces and necks powdered with whitelead. Servants brought glasses of wine and plates of bread and cheese. A little way off some twenty men, those from Hoyland village recruited to help with the hunt, stood with half a dozen horses and the hunting dogs, held on leashes. Barak was talking to them. I was pleased to see Oddleg among the horses.

Hugh and David, with two other boys who looked to be sons of the guests, stood talking with Dyrick. The boys were dressed in different shades of green, as were the villagers. The men with Hobbey wore pinked or slashed doublets, but in pale shades, the usual bright colours of fine clothes absent. The four boys held their unstrung bows and had arrowbags at their belts. I saw swan and peacock feathers on the arrows' fletches, marks of status, and all wore gloves and wrist guards of horn or embossed leather. David showed no sign of his attack the previous day, but cast worried glances at the two young guests, no doubt wondering if they knew.

The hunt breakfast was the prelude; the ladies would stay here while the menfolk hunted the stag, hopefully returning with it in the large wheeled cart that stood nearby, next to the cloth set with knives and clamps where the animal would be dissected before the company. Sometimes ladies hunted, but not today. I remembered Princess Elizabeth and the Queen telling me she already accompanied the hunt.

The women were conversing with Abigail, lightly but, I saw, uneasily too. They would probably know what had happened outside the church yesterday. Abigail was trying to make conversation, but her voice was high with tension and she fiddled constantly with her napkin. 'This will be my son's first hunt,' she said. 'It is time such a fine strong boy enjoyed a hunt.' She looked at the other women defiantly, gave a frightened whinny of a laugh. One of the hunting dogs barked sharply and she flinched. I remembered the whispered conversation I had overheard, Abigail saying it was not safe to have the hunt.

Barak left the servants and came over to me. 'Sure you want to do this?' he asked.

'I have been on a hunt before,' I replied sharply.

'It's more than I have. But they say you should experience everything once, save incest and the plague.'

'Master Shardlake!' Hugh was walking over to us. He seemed relaxed now. 'Are you ready?'

'Yes,' I replied. 'What is to happen?'

'Myself and the other three archers - ' he nodded at David and the other boys - 'will lie in wait at different points along the route. Fulstowe, too.'

'A great honour for a steward.'

'Master Hobbey believes he deserves it,' he answered blandly.

'I thought usually the young men rode with the chase rather than waiting in ambush in the woods.'

'Ah, but we want to test our archery skills. Master Stannard there is second in command of his local militia, ten miles off. Here, lads!' He waved an arm, and David came across with the two others and Dyrick. Dyrick looked ill at ease. I was introduced to Master Stannard and Master Belton, the sons of the two men looking over the plan with Hobbey. Both were only in their late teens; but it was social rank that counted in the military. I thought of Sir Franklin Giffard, past command yet still in charge of Leacon's company.

'We saw some militiamen training on the way here last week,' I said.

'I'm getting them well trained up in my district,' Master Stannard said proudly. He was a tall well-built lad, with a round face and swaggering manner. Master Belton was smaller, still with spots peppering his face. 'Equipment is the problem,' Stannard went on. 'By law they should all have their own weapons but many do not even have bows. But they will be ready to march when the beacons are lit.'

'No greater army ever seen in England,' David said. I looked at him. There seemed a hectic quality to his excited tones. He met my eye and looked away.

Master Stannard nodded. 'If we have to, we will crush them by sheer numbers. And I shall lead my militia. Today will be good practice, perhaps I shall take down the stag and gain the heartstone.'

Young Stannard turned to Hugh. 'You gained the heartstone at my father's hunt two years ago, did you not? At only sixteen.'

'I did,' Hugh answered with pride.

'It can heal many ills, I am told.'

'Normally I wear it round my neck. But today I brought it to show you.' Hugh took off his gloves and reached into the pouch at his belt. He took out a tiny leather bag with a cord attached, opened it and tipped a small, round whitish object into his palm. Barak wrinkled his nose with distaste, but the boys studied it with interest.

'Even should I gain another, I will always keep this one,' Hugh said with quiet pride. The boys looked impressed.

Dyrick stepped up to me. 'I see the horse you have been riding has been brought out for you. He looks a steady beast.'

'He is.' I looked at Dyrick in surprise. For once he was making amiable conversation.

Hobbey called out, 'All of you that are going on the hunt, over here please!' He waved an arm, and the male guests and the Hoyland men walked across to him. Dyrick put a detaining hand on my arm.

'Brother Shardlake,' he said quietly, 'Feodary Priddis and his son will be here this afternoon. You will have a chance to take young Priddis to view the woods. But afterwards I would ask you to agree that we leave tomorrow. The case I sent Feaveryear away to deal with is difficult. I should be there.'

'A Court of Wards matter?'

'An injunction.' He took a deep breath. 'And if we leave tomorrow, Master Hobbey has agreed each side in this matter will pay their own costs, out of court. It is a very pretty bargain for your client, you must agree. But otherwise,' he resumed his usual aggressive manner, 'I promise we shall press for full costs in court.'

'Hobbey has agreed this?' I asked, astonished. It was a very good offer, not one a lawyer would normally make when his opponent's case had effectively fallen apart.

'He has. He wants you gone. Christ's blood, man, has he not enough trouble?' Dyrick spoke with unusual passion.

I considered. There was only one reason for Hobbey to make this offer; he wanted to make sure David's condition was not made public in London.

'My client is not here,' I said.

'Come, man, you can agree informally. She will do what you advise. She and the Queen,' he added bitterly.

'I will consider, once I have viewed Hugh's lands with Priddis.' I looked up, to see Hobbey staring at me intently. 'Come. We should join the rest.'

W
E GATHERED
round the tree trunk, and Hobbey introduced Dyrick and me briefly to his new guests as his lawyers. I glanced at Avery. The young man was dressed in leaf-coloured green, a silver hunting horn slung from a baldric round his neck. He had a new air of authority about him as he pointed at the map.

'This is how we plan to conduct the hunt.' The map showed the rectangular hunting park, pathways through the trees sketched in. Avery took a piece of charcoal and drew a cross near the outer edge. 'We are here,' he said. 'We will all ride along this path until we reach this track, which turns off. When we are riding, gentlemen, it is important to be as quiet as possible so as not to startle the deer, which are here.' He drew a circle at a point some way up the track. 'My men have been tracking them constantly; this is where they lay down to rest last night.'

'And then we will have them,' Hobbey said with quiet satisfaction.

Avery looked at him seriously. 'Not quite, sir. That is when the real hunt begins. Then, and only then, may you forget about silence. The dogs will be loosed, and all the riders must concentrate on separating the stag from the does and fauns, which are only a secondary quarry.'

'The rascal, as they are called.' Corembeck smiled knowledgeably. 'It is all right, sir, I have been hunting many a time.'

'But if you will excuse me, sir,' Avery said, 'not everyone present has.' He looked around the company, his expression serious. 'This stag is large, perhaps seven years old, with ten tines on his antlers. It is important to guide him onto the path we wish him to take, but not to get too close lest he turn at bay. As for the rascal, set the dogs on them, with six of the Hoyland villagers to ride after them. The rest of you villagers should wait by the hurdles set across gaps in the trees on the main path, and shout to scare the stag should he try to break through. There are only eight does and some fauns among the rascal, the dogs should bring some down and you men can finish them off with swords or bows.' Avery studied the villagers. 'Master Clements, you are in charge of the dogs.'

The young cottager he had addressed smiled broadly. 'I am ready, sir.'

'The rest of you, is there anything you do not understand?'

'If we kill a doe or faun, do we get a choice of the best meat?' a villager asked.

'You have been told so,' Hobbey answered sharply.

'We'll take a haunch back for Master Ettis,' another said, and they laughed. Even among the men Hobbey had recruited, it seemed, there was a rebellious mood. Abigail, sitting on her cushions, turned and glared at the villager who had spoken. 'Nicholas,' she called, 'see that man gets no meat for his rudeness.'

'Gentlemen!' Avery slapped a gloved hand on the map. 'Please, your attention! We will be dealing with a strong and fierce beast!'

'My apologies,' Hobbey said. He glared at Abigail. 'My wife will ruin all with her tongue.'

There was a gasp of indrawn breath among the women at Hobbey's public insult to his wife. Abigail flushed and turned away. A muscle twitched in Hobbey's cheek. Then he looked back to Avery. 'Continue,' he snapped.

The huntsman took a deep breath. 'Once the stag is roused out, the hunt proper will begin. We chase him back to the main path, then on to where the archers lie in wait. You men at the hurdles must do your job well, not be frightened if the stag rushes towards you. Away from the path, in the wood, a stag is far fleeter than a horse.'

'That is right,' Corembeck agreed portentously.

Next Avery drew five crosses at points well up the path. 'The archers will be waiting here - Master Hugh, Master David, Fulstowe and our two young guests. You set off ahead of the rest. To one of you will go the honour of loosing the fatal shot, bringing down the stag.' He looked at the archers. 'Remember, find good cover and a clear line of shot. And keep still.' He surveyed the company. 'As the stag is driven to the archers I will sound my horn - like this - to warn them to be ready. If I need to summon the archers for any reason I will blow my horn thus.' He sounded a different note. 'Now, is all clear?'