Heartstone (66 page)

W
E ROSE EARLY
the following morning. We breakfasted in the kitchen, and said farewell to old Ursula, toiling there as usual, who thanked us for our interest in Hugh. 'Though you never found why they told that wicked lie about Master Calfhill saying he loved Hugh, did you, sir?'

'No, Ursula. And without Hugh's cooperation, I do not think anyone can.'

She looked at me imploringly. 'You will help Master Ettis, though? He's a good man. He never killed Mistress Hobbey.'

'Of course.' I looked at her seriously. 'Have you any idea who could have, Ursula?'

'None, sir. It was a wicked act, for all her strange ways. God pardon her.'

'Amen. I will not be returning here, but if you hear anything I should know, will you tell Mistress Ettis? She knows how to contact me.'

'I will, sir. Unless the French get us all first.' She curtsied deeply, but I could see my lack of success had disappointed her.

Outside it was another hot, still day. We loaded our saddlebags onto Oddleg and the horse Barak had been using. I thought, in three or four days we shall be returning them to the supplier at Kingston.

'What will you do about the Rolfswood inquest?' Barak asked after we had mounted.

'When we get back to London I will make contact with the Sussex coroner. I will ensure Priddis is questioned. I'll ask the Queen to use her influence if need be.'

'That will all take time.'

'I know.'

'Look there,' he said quietly. I followed his gaze to where David and Hugh were walking together from the house to the butts with their bows and arrowbags. Hugh turned and saw us. He laid down his bow and came over to me, his expression cold. David simply stood and stared.

'You are leaving then?' Hugh said abruptly.

'Yes. And you will shortly hear the claim in the Court of Wards is to be abandoned.'

'I wish it had never been started.'

I held out my hand. 'Farewell, Hugh.'

The boy looked at it, then stared at me coldly again.

'Will you give farewell to my master?' Barak asked hotly. 'Impertinent puppy, all he has done has been to try and help you.'

Hugh met his gaze. 'Like making me tell the inquest what I felt about Mistress Hobbey? A strange kind of help. And now, I am going to try to distract David with some practice of honest archery. We may be needed, mere boys as we are, if the French approach up that road.' He turned on his heel and walked away. 'Come, Jack,' I said quietly. 'Time we were gone.'

A
GAIN WE TRAVELLED
south through the summer woodland. Trees were still being felled in Hugh's woods. Two carts loaded with oak trunks, the ends still damp with sap, pulled out of a side track and rumbled south towards Portsmouth.

We pressed on, through the rich summer landscape, the air becoming hotter as the morning advanced. We rode up the long steep incline of Portsdown Hill, hard going for the horses, and crested the escarpment. There we halted and looked down again on that extraordinary view. Nearly all the fleet seemed to be anchored out in the Solent now, only a few small ships lay in Portsmouth Haven. The ships were gathered together in three long lines, except for three - a giant, which had to be the
Great Harry
, and two other big ships that were sailing east along the coast of Portsea Island.

'They're lined up for battle,' Barak said quietly.

I looked out to the eastern end of the Isle of Wight. Somewhere, out of sight still, the enemy was approaching across that calm blue sea.

A
T THE BRIDGE
between the mainland and Portsea Island there were large soldiers' encampments now on both sides of the tidal stream, and heavy cannon. I had put on my lawyer's robes and we were allowed through when I said we had business in the town. Supplies were still coming, many of the loaded carts heading towards the long line of tents along the coast.

As we rode downhill, Barak said, 'Those are the royal tents behind that little lake.'

'Yes.' I counted twenty of the huge tents, in a myriad of different colours and designs, strung out parallel to the coast. More were being erected.

'Do you think the King is going to camp there and watch the sea battle if it comes?'

'Perhaps. Maybe the Queen too.'

'You have to admire old Henry's courage.'

'Or foolhardiness. Come, let's find Leacon.'

O
UTSIDE THE
city walls, where men still laboured hard to thicken the mud walls, companies of soldiers were practising manoeuvres: running with long pikes held before them, staging mock battles with bills, improving their archery at makeshift butts. All the men were brown from their time in the sun. Officers, mostly on horseback, rode to and fro supervising them, but I did not see Leacon. There were so many more tents that it was hard to get our bearings. The stink of ordure was unbearable.

We found the place where Leacon's company had been billeted and dismounted. All the tents in this part of the camp, though, were closed and empty except for one some way off, where a young soldier sat alone, eating bread and cheese from a wooden trencher. I recognized him as one of Leacon's men. His face was spotted with mosquito bites, and I noticed the long collar above his tunic was frayed, the tunic itself filthy. I asked if he knew where the rest of the company was.

'Gone to the ships, sir,' he answered. 'To get their sea legs and practise shooting from a ship. I've been left to guard the tents. They'll be back tonight.'

'We saw some warships out at sea.'

'Yes. The
Great Harry
and the
Mary Rose
and the
Murrain
are out, they said. There's five companies gone on them.'

'Thank you.'

Barak asked him, 'How do you find this life, mate?'

'Never seen anything like it. The King is coming to view the fleet tomorrow. And they say the French will be here in a few days. Two weeks ago I was a churchwarden's assistant. That'll teach me to practise archery.'

'Ay, it can be a dangerous thing.'

The soldier gestured at his trencher. 'Look at this shit they're giving us to eat. Half-mouldy cheese and bread like a stone. Reminds me of the famine back in '27, when I was a child. I've walked with bent legs ever since.' He took a drink from a wooden tankard at his side. I saw a Latin phrase embossed in large letters:
If God be for us,
who can be against us?

'I hope you find a safe billet, fellow,' I said.

'Thank you.'

We rode away. 'What now?' Barak asked.

'To the Godshouse, see if they can tell us where Master West might be.'

'Probably out in harbour, on the
Mary Rose
.'

'He may be ashore, or come ashore tonight.' I said hesitantly, 'We should try to find an inn in town. We may have to stay the night.'

He sighed and said, 'All right, one night if need be. Jesu, that soldier, I thought, he could have been me. So I owe you one night here.'

I looked up at the walls as we rode on to the town, the soldiers patrolling to and fro along the fighting platform at the top. The great guns bristled at the towers, long black barrels pointing outwards at us.

Chapter Thirty-seven

W
E HAD TO WAIT
a long time at the gate. The soldiers were questioning everyone about their business in Portsmouth, wary no doubt of French spies. I said I had legal business at the Guildhall, and that got us through.

Portsmouth was even more crowded now, tents pitched everywhere within the walls, soldiers practising drill. We rode down the High Street, steering through the crowd of merchants and labourers, soldiers and sailors, English and foreign. Many of the servicemen, like the soldiers at the camp, were starting to look ragged and dirty. Heavy carts still lumbered towards the wharf, drivers shouting at people to get out of the way. The sour stench of sweat was everywhere, mingling with the harsh smell from the brewhouses.

Barak wriggled. 'Shit, I've got fleas again already.'

'Must have been from the camp. Let's try to find a clean inn, then go to the Godshouse.'

We turned into Oyster Street and rode towards the wharf. The tide was full, the Camber filled with rowboats waiting their turn to deliver goods from the wharf to the ships. We rode almost to the wharf; from here we could see out across the low-lying Point to where the triple line of ships stood at anchor in the Solent. They looked even more breathtaking than on our first visit, for now there were well over fifty, of all sizes from the giant warships to small forty-foot vessels. Few had any of their sails up; even the
Galley Subtle
stood with its oars at rest. The very stillness of the fleet added to its solid might, the only moving things the flags on the masts of the large warships flapping in the light breeze. An enormous flag of St George flew from the foremast of the
Mary Rose
above the brightly painted triple decks of the forecastle. I saw the giant bulk of the
Great Harry
sailing slowly away into the Solent, some of its great white sails raised.

Barak followed my gaze. 'Maybe Leacon and the company are there.'

'Then they won't be back for hours.'

W
E FOUND
an inn in Oyster Street. It catered for the wealthier clientele,
No Brawlers or Chiders
scrawled on a large sign by the door. The innkeeper charged a shilling to take us. He would not be beaten down, saying we were lucky to get accommodation at all.

'I hear the King comes tomorrow,' I said.

'Ay. In the morning, to view the ships. The populace have been told to line the streets.'

'There must be many royal officials seeking accommodation in town.'

He shook his head. '
They're
all comfortable in the royal tents along the coast. If Portsmouth is besieged, they'll ride off. It's us poor citizenry who'll be trapped here.'

We stabled the horses, took our panniers to our little room, then went out again. We walked back up Oyster Street, hands on belts for fear of cutpurses among the milling crowds, towards the open space in front of the Square Tower. On the platform soldiers with spiked bills marched and turned to drumbeats. A group of small boys stood watching and cheering.