The Field of the Cloth of Gold (13 page)

‘What’s it all got to do with me?’ Hen enquired.

‘Well,’ said Aldebaran, ‘they’ve expressed a desire to settle in the south-west, so they’d be bordering your territory.’

‘I see.’

‘Obviously, we wouldn’t sanction it without your permission. So, do you have any objections?’

‘No, of course not,’ said Hen. ‘They’re most welcome.’

‘Then maybe you could keep an eye on them until they’re established?’

‘Certainly.’

‘Good,’ said Aldebaran. ‘That’s most satisfactory.’

As it happened, the cooks and handmaidens had already begun their move to the south-west. They walked slowly in single file, carrying their few possessions, and every now and again we could hear excited voices drifting on the breeze. Meanwhile, Aldebaran’s attendants had collected the last of the baggage and were now waiting for him by the crossing.

He was about to depart when I remembered I had a question of my own.

‘Before you go,’ I said, ‘could you resolve a debate that’s been raging amongst the rest of us?’

‘I’ll try,’ said Aldebaran. ‘What’s it about?’

‘The earthwork,’ I said. ‘We wondered whether its purpose was drainage or defence?’

Aldebaran did not need to consider his answer.

‘Both,’ he replied.

With that, he gave each of us a cursory nod before turning towards the crossing. His men watched his approach, then they all waded to the other side and set off in brisk pursuit of the baggage train. I noticed that none of them looked back as they left the Great Field behind them. Gradually they gained on their retreating comrades, and soon they were all dwindling into the distant haze. The last we heard of them was the plaintive call of the bugle, and then they were gone.

Over in the south-east something was glaring in the sunshine. The harsh, reflected light had an unnatural quality which made its source impossible to identify, so eventually Hen and I went to investigate. Only when we got closer did we realize what it was: the great copper bath lay abandoned on its side.

‘Obviously surplus to requirements,’ commented Hen.

‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘No use without hot water.’

With its splayed copper feet and elegantly curved rim, the bath was an excellent piece of workmanship. All the same, it made a sorry sight. It had been brought here especially as a gift for Isabella, yet she’d rejected it and gone her own way. Now it seemed little more than a worthless folly, serving only to remind me of the chances I’d missed.

11

After a couple of days, I decided to call on Yadegarian and his fellow settlers in the south-west. They’d chosen a spot at the furthermost turn of the river, and the difference between this and their former dwelling was quite a revelation. I was immediately impressed by the way they’d used leaves and grasses to transform their dull, buff-coloured tents into garlanded bowers. Additional decorations were provided by colourful bunting. The setting was very pleasant, and they were all delighted with their good fortune. Even so, they were hardly living in the lap of luxury. Yadegarian showed me the provisions they’d been allocated: these consisted entirely of biscuits from the emergency reserve. He offered me one to sample, and I noticed it was imprinted with the letter J.

‘Ah, yes,’ said Yadegarian. ‘It must have come from the very bottom of the stash.’

‘Did you bake it?’ I enquired.

‘We baked all of them,’ he replied. ‘Biscuits are our speciality.’

Despite its apparent vintage, the biscuit was delicious. Actually, in size, shape and texture it was remarkably similar to Hartopp’s biscuits, and it occurred to me that in terms of cuisine the two parties had much in common. This gave me an idea: perhaps if they engaged with one another it would help to reduce the sense of division which had lately befallen the Great Field. I made a mental note to discuss the subject with Hen.

Such thoughts were for the future, of course. Meanwhile, the prime concern was the empty space created by Aldebaran’s departure. Apart from the unwanted bath, the south-east now lay empty and desolate. Nevertheless, it would only be a matter of time before the whole region was up for grabs again. Personally, I had no wish to discourage newcomers, but I knew that some of my neighbours were less tolerant. To forestall another incursion, therefore, I made the suggestion that one of our own number should seize the unoccupied land.

‘It’s a golden opportunity for somebody,’ I said. ‘The views of the river are outstanding.’

Regrettably, there were no takers. Brigant was determined to remain north of the ‘turf wall’ (as he called it), and Hartopp felt that his stranded boats tied him to the north-east. Not even his sons were interested, although I often saw them roaming the deserted river bank. They told me they were looking for adventure, but ultimately they decided the lowlands were too tame for them.

Once again I was the only contender. The rich pastures were mine for the taking, and I had to confess the temptation was hard to resist. At the back of my mind, however, a doubt was lurking. Experience told me that whoever held the south-east soon became the object of intense scrutiny by the rest of the field. This was an inescapable truth, brought about by a combination of factors ranging from curiosity to outright envy, and I wasn’t sure whether I welcomed the prospect. Consequently, I deferred making any move for the time being. I didn’t rule it out entirely, but I decided I should at least sleep on it.

That was the plan, anyway.

As it turned out, sleep was rather hard to come by. In the dead of night I was awoken by a harsh clanging noise which seemed to emanate from the empty quarter. Quickly I put on my boots and went outside. I could see nothing in the darkness, but the clanging persisted in sporadic bursts, accompanied by assorted shouts and curses. The sounds I heard were strange and unfamiliar, and I was beginning to feel uneasy about the situation when suddenly an angry voice cried, ‘Hey!’

The clanging ceased immediately.

The voice I recognized as belonging to Hartopp, and in a moment he appeared silhouetted on top of the embankment. Beside him were two other figures who I assumed to be Hollis and Eldred.

After a brief pause the clanging resumed again, only to be silenced by a further cry of ‘Hey!’

There followed a chorus of derisive hoots and catcalls. These faded into the distance as the clamour gradually subsided. Intermittent blasts of wind continued to beat against my tent, but there was nothing else. The disturbance, apparently, was over.

In the morning I asked Hartopp what had happened.

‘We had some visitors,’ he replied. ‘Men in boats.’

‘That was quite a din they were making.’

‘They were hammering the copper bath,’ said Hartopp. ‘Trying to break it up, I suppose.’

‘Until you scared them off.’

‘Yes.’

Presently we were joined by Brigant, then the three of us wandered down to the south-east to inspect the bath. Apart from a number of dents, I was pleased to note there was little obvious damage. If the raiders had been trying to extract value from the copper, they’d plainly gone the wrong way about it.

‘They could keep hammering all day long and get nowhere,’ I remarked. ‘You can’t break copper into pieces.’

‘I wonder if they knew the bath’s real purpose?’ said Brigant.

‘To judge by appearances, probably not,’ said Hartopp.

‘You saw them, then?’

‘Only vaguely, I admit, but I can tell you just who they were. I caught a glimpse of their boats when they were sailing away and I realized I’d seen them before. They’re inveterate marauders from the distant north, led by a man called Hogust. We encountered them when we were travelling downriver.’

‘Did we?’ said Brigant. ‘I don’t remember that.’

‘It was before you came aboard,’ said Hartopp. ‘Don’t forget, the river has many tributaries.’

‘Ah, yes.’

‘This Hogust is a born menace, actually. I could hear him egging them all on last night.’

‘Do you think they’ll try again?’ I asked.

‘Not sure,’ Hartopp replied. ‘It depends what mood they’re in.’

‘Maybe they’ll come and settle in the south-east.’

‘Maybe,’ said Hartopp, ‘but again I’m not sure. They’re not really the types to settle in any one place for very long: it’s just as likely they’ll go back upriver.’

‘Well, let’s hope they do,’ said Brigant. ‘We don’t want them landing here.’

For a while we stood gazing at the horizon in silent speculation, then we all returned to the sanctuary of our tents. For my part, I’d found Hartopp’s description of the raiders rather disquieting, and clearly Brigant felt the same way. As I mentioned earlier, I had absolutely nothing against newcomers; indeed, they often brought a wealth of variety and colour to the field, Isabella being a perfect example. There were certain limits, however, which Hogust and his comrades had patently exceeded. To arrive in the dead of night armed with hammers was wholly unacceptable, especially when people were trying to sleep. If this was how they behaved, then they definitely wouldn’t be welcome, and I knew I wasn’t alone in this sentiment.

The abandoned bath, of course, was an open invitation for further trouble. As long as it lay exposed for all to see then it was bound to attract unwanted attention, and I spent some time pondering what could be done. In the event, though, it was Yadegarian who provided a solution. Around mid-afternoon I spotted him leading a small party towards the south-east. When they reached the bath they gave it a thorough examination; then they began hauling it back the way they’d come. It was evidently quite heavy and they had a bit of a struggle. Nonetheless, they persevered until they got it home.

I assumed that Yadegarian had learnt about the raid and decided to take the bath into his safekeeping. This was a worthy deed, but in all probability it was destined to be forgotten. The bath would doubtless remain neglected in some obscure part of the field, surrounded by nettles and corroded by the elements, until it was totally lost from memory. An unfortunate fate, yet more or less inevitable. I was surprised, therefore, when Yadegarian set to work restoring it to its former glory. For hour after hour, he and his companions carefully hammered out the dents with wooden mallets; then they burnished the copper to a lustrous sheen. Finally, they placed the bath on an earthen pedestal in the centre of the camp. There it rested, gleaming in the sunshine.

Hen and I observed the entire process from start to finish. It was a fascinating spectacle, but later I discovered that Hen harboured deep misgivings. During the next few days he kept his promise to Aldebaran, dutifully watching over the settlers and making sure that all was well. As with everything else, he took the task very seriously. Even so, he was completely baffled by their obsession with the copper bath.

‘I can’t fathom them out,’ he told me. ‘They polish it over and over again, morning, noon and night.’

‘Perhaps they’re drawn to its unnatural splendour,’ I suggested. ‘After all, it’s a fine piece of workmanship.’

‘That’s as may be,’ said Hen, ‘but it’s still a worry as far as I’m concerned. They really ought to be busy preparing for the end of the season, conserving their supplies, gathering fuel and so forth. Instead, they pass their evenings dancing around that blessed bath.’

‘Lucky them,’ I said. ‘Sounds like a pleasant enough pastime.’

‘It’s no laughing matter,’ he retorted. ‘Summer won’t last for ever.’

‘No, I suppose not.’

‘They should at least be baking fresh biscuits.’

Hen’s comments reminded me of the idea I’d been considering.

‘Oh, by the way,’ I said, ‘talking of biscuits . . .’

It was as far as I got.

All at once, a commotion erupted in the north-east. We heard a warning shout from Hartopp, and the next moment a number of long, narrow sailing boats came sweeping down the river. Immediately, Yadegarian’s people rushed to the copper bath and concealed it beneath a tarpaulin; then they retired to their tents. Meanwhile, the boats reached the south-east corner and several men scrambled ashore. Another group stayed afloat, as if primed for a swift getaway. It seemed the raiders had returned, and on this occasion they’d arrived in broad daylight.

We watched the landing party as they scoured the area where the bath had previously lain. When they realized it was gone they stood staring blankly at the empty ground; obviously this was something they hadn’t bargained for. A delay followed, after which we heard instructions being barked from one of the boats. At such a distance we couldn’t tell what was being said, but the meaning soon became clear. Within minutes, all the boats had been pulled onto the bank and their sails dropped; then everyone started unloading tents and equipment. Everyone, that is, except the man giving the orders. He was a stocky fellow with a gruff voice, and was the very last to come ashore.

‘Hogust, I presume,’ said Hen.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘He must have decided to stay after all.’

‘Perhaps it’s only temporary.’

‘Yes, perhaps.’

We continued to watch while Hogust surveyed his new surroundings. The men under his command were an undisciplined bunch. They were wandering about in a haphazard manner, apparently choosing places to pitch their tents, then changing their minds again. Two or three, I noticed, were squabbling over some items of baggage. They pushed and shoved one another with voices raised, and looked as if they were about to come to blows. Next instant, however, the dispute dissolved into raucous laughter. A couple of playful punches were thrown, and that was the end of it.