‘Ay, if I can get to my horse.’
I felt myself pushed roughly against a stall, and turned angrily. ‘Make way there. Queen’s household.’ Surrounded by a retinue of servants who shoved aside everyone in their path, a group of courtiers was leading their horses towards the doors. I recognized Francis Dereham. Seeing me, he gave an unpleasant smile. The courtiers passed, and Barak and I returned to the stalls.
‘Take care, sir, take care!’ A woman’s voice I recognized, calling sharply. I saw Jennet Marlin just ahead. A young courtier was trying to calm his horse, which was tossing its head and neighing, upset by the crowd. It threatened to flatten Mistress Marlin against a stall. Barak stepped forward. ‘Look out!’ he called. ‘There’s a woman there.’ He helped the man calm the horse, while I gave Mistress Marlin my arm and helped her away from the animal. She gave me a startled look.
‘You? Oh – thank you.’
‘Are you seeking your horse?’
‘Yes, she is down here somewhere.’
Barak and I helped her find the stall containing her animal, a grey palfrey, ready saddled.
‘Come with us,’ I said. ‘We’ll just find our own.’
She coloured. ‘No, I am all right now. Thank you. I am obliged.’ She took her horse by the reins and led it away.
‘Doesn’t like to be seen as a poor weak woman,’ Barak said.
‘She certainly has her pride.’ We made our way to the stalls where Sukey and Genesis stood, ready saddled like the others. We led them out, not without difficulty for both were nervous. Barak’s Sukey had always been temperamental but I was surprised how skittish my normally calm Genesis was. ‘What a mêlée,’ I said. ‘This hasn’t been well organized. Someone could be trampled.’
IT WAS A RELIEF to get out of the church again. Little groups of men had formed all round the churchyard now, some mounted, some standing holding their horses: the households of the various nobles and officials and, by the gates, the King’s and Queen’s households. There was, too, a clutch of lawyers and clerks, grouped around the white-bearded Sir James Fealty. I saw him glance at us and cross a couple of names off a list he carried.
Among the Queen’s household I saw Tamasin sitting on a grey palfrey, next to Jennet Marlin on her palfrey, still looking a little flustered. Nearby Lady Rochford was resplendent in a plum-coloured cloak and sitting on a big black mare, next to Sir Richard Rich on a big grey. Looking at the King’s household I was disconcerted to see Maleverer among the brightly dressed throng. Was he to accompany the Progress? It was not a thought that pleased me. I sensed someone else looking at me and glanced round just in time to see Thomas Culpeper turn his handsome head away.
Master Craike sat nearby, on a strong-looking roan. Mounted as he was, he still had his portable desk round his neck. He was riffling through papers, but he too caught my eye. He hesitated and I guessed he would have preferred not to acknowledge me, but he smiled uncertainly. ‘Good day, Master Shardlake.’
‘Master Craike.’ I made my voice cheerful. ‘By Jesu, there is great confusion in that stable.’
‘Ay. I fetched my horse early.’
‘You will be busy now we are moving again.’
‘Yes, I leave in a minute. I have to ride ahead to Howlme Manor and see all is ready for the King.’
‘I gather we should wait with the other lawyers.’
‘Yes, ’ he said, ‘though you may be waiting some time. The royal households will pass out first, with the King and Queen, then the officers of the royal households and the households of the nobles. The various officials come next. I am afraid the lawyers are at the back. After you will come all the servants from the camp and the wagons. Everything must be done in the correct sequence.’
‘Of course.’
He looked over to the manor house. A servant stood pruning the roses set round the side, carefully setting the thorny branches in a cart, oblivious to the noise and bustle all round. The manor, I assumed, would revert to its original function as a headquarters for the Council of the North. ‘The King is in a great fury that James of Scotland has let him down,’ Craike said. ‘He threatens fierce measures against the Scotch. I think they will pay for this.’
‘That would be -’ I sought a neutral word ‘- characteristic of him.’
‘Ay.’ There was a moment’s awkward silence, then Craike smiled nervously. ‘Well, sir, I shall be on the move constantly now. I may not see you again.’
‘In that case, farewell.’
‘Farewell,’ he said, and then, quietly, ‘thank you.’ He turned his horse and rode away to the gate.
Barak looked after him thoughtfully. ‘Poor old arsehole,’ he said.
‘Ay. Still, Genesis!’ My horse had jumped to one side with a whinny.
‘Let’s not mount just yet,’ Barak said. ‘Give the horses time to calm themselves.’
‘All right. Look, there’s Giles. But where’s his horse?’
The old man had come in at the gates. He was carrying a heavy pannier and seemed flustered. He stood looking round, overtopping by a head many of those who walked around his burly form. I waved him over and he walked slowly across to us.
‘Ah, Matthew,’ he said breathlessly. ‘There you are, and Barak, good morning. I fear I have a problem. My horse got a sharp stone in her shoe last night, she cannot possibly ride out. I did not know what to do.’
‘There will be spare horses,’ Barak said.
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘But they will be over at the camp, we cannot get one now.’
‘Take Sukey,’ Barak said. ‘I’ll walk beside you. Then later I’m sure we can find a horse for you.’
Giles looked at him with relief. ‘Thank you, young Barak. Are you sure?’
‘Ay, take Sukey.’
‘Genesis would be better,’ I said. ‘Barak’s mare might not like being ridden by a stranger. I can ride Sukey, she knows me. You take Genesis. He is a calm horse.’
‘Thank you again, sir.’ Giles laughed uneasily. ‘I do not know what I would do without you.’
An official came up and compared notes with Fealty, who turned and addressed us. ‘I want you all mounted now,’ he called out.
‘Here, let me help you.’ Barak formed a stirrup of his hands for the old man to mount Genesis.
He heaved himself up and settled himself carefully in the saddle.
Then, so fast it startled me half out of my wits, Genesis reared up on his hind legs with a dreadful scream. Giles cried out and grabbed frantically at the reins but the horse bucked to unseat him and to my horror I saw the old man plunge head-first from the saddle. He would certainly have dashed his brains out on the stone flags of the courtyard had not Barak stepped forward. Giles fell heavily on top of him and they both crashed to the earth, Barak letting out a yell as he went down.
People turned to look. Some exclaimed, others laughed. Master Wrenne rolled off Barak’s body and sprawled on the ground, shocked.
‘Giles!’ I cried. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes. I – I think so. But what…’
‘Jack?’ I turned to Barak. He too tried to sit up, but groaned and fell back. His face was ashen. ‘Shit!’ he said thickly. ‘My fucking ankle.’ He looked at his left foot, which was bent at an unnatural angle.
I looked up at the crowd that was quickly forming around us. ‘A physician!’ I cried out. ‘There’s a man hurt here!’ I saw two of the clerks had grabbed Genesis’ reins and were holding him with difficulty. My normally calm old horse was still agitated, twisting his body frantically as though in pain. Then a little figure shoved through the gathering crowd and knelt by Barak. It was Tamasin, her face distraught. ‘Jack!’ she cried. ‘Jack!’