C.J. Sansom - Heartstone

There was muttering up and down the ranks. The men still stood in position, but most had turned their heads to stare. Slowly, Emma removed her arrowbag, then took off her jack and dropped it to the deck. She stood there, the wind that had risen ruffling her white shirt. Leacon put his hands to her collar and ripped the shirt open. The heartstone was tied round her neck in its tiny leather pouch, over a white linen band. The band was drawn tightly across her chest, but above it the tops of her breasts made a slight swell. I feared Leacon might force her to untie the band but he had seen enough. There was an excited muttering among the men.

'What's that? Is it a bandage? Is he hurt?'

'Shit, I think it's a woman.'

'Be quiet!' Sir Franklin called out. Leacon spoke quietly to Emma. 'Why have you done this? Why have you made a mockery of my company?'

Emma crossed her arms. 'I wanted to fight, sir. You've seen that I'm a good archer.'

Sir Franklin stepped up to her. He raised his hand and I thought he would strike her, but he turned to Leacon, and said, voice trembling with fury, 'Can she be got off the ship?'

'Maybe. If a boat comes over.'

'Go and find one. Get her out of sight for now. Under the aftercastle. Anywhere.' He looked round at the gawping soldiers. Emma stared at me, arms held tight across her breasts, her eyes full of pain and anger.

The Mary Rose lurched violently. Some of the men staggered again, grabbing at the rails or reaching up to the enclosing netting. I had been aware of more whistles and shouted commands from below, and now I heard a loud rattling from the stern; the anchors were being raised. Turning round, I saw huge white sails billow out from the bowsprit and foremast, snapping and cracking in the rising breeze. Over to the left sails unfurled on the Great Harry too, then on the other ships. The Mary Rose rocked once more, then began moving slowly forward towards the galleys. It had begun. We were going into battle.

SEVERAL SHORT, PIERCING whistle blasts sounded from the foot of the ladder. Sir Franklin shouted, 'To positions!'

Leacon looked at Emma and me grimly. 'Go down to the space under the aftercastle and stay there!' he said, then walked away to his men. Most still had their heads turned in our direction but now they were looking past us to where, beyond the forecastle and the raised foresail, the galleys faced us. There was another crack and billow of canvas as the lateen sail at the back of the ship was set. Though I could feel little movement—just the ship rising and falling gently—the Mary Rose was approaching the galleys at considerable speed. I looked at the soldiers again; Carswell gave me a frightened smile and shrugged, as though to say, now we have all come to it, and you too. Pygeon, sweating in his brigandyne, crossed himself. Leacon went to stand in the centre of the aftercastle beside Snodin, near where Emma's jack lay. 'Stay steady, lads,' Snodin said in a quiet, sympathetic tone such as I had never heard him use before.

The deck shifted and I almost fell. A nearby sailor, in position by the topmast rigging, shouted at us, 'Get your shoes off! Then get off this deck, out of our way!'

I kicked off my shoes and ran to the ladder. Emma hesitated, then did the same. As we reached the hatch, I glanced backwards. The Mary Rose had pulled ahead of the rest of the fleet now, the Great Harry was behind us; all the other ships seemed to be following. Through the open blind of the archer next to me I glimpsed South Sea Castle in the distance. I looked down; far below I saw frothing waves as the Mary Rose cut through the water. My stomach lurched.

I began descending the ladder. I looked back at Emma. She hesitated again, then, with a savage look, followed me.

I clambered slowly down, trying to ignore the pain in my arms and shoulders. On the deck below the handgunners still stood with feet braced looking through their little ports, while on each side of the ladder the gun teams stood ready at the two long cannons. Through the wide door giving on to the walkway above the netting I saw we were still heading fast for the galleys. The two sailors still stood one on each side of the door, likewise staring ahead. Then the Mary Rose began to turn. The port side dipped, pitching me off the ladder onto the deck. I hit my shoulder and cried out with pain. The sailors next to us looked round for a moment. The ship dipped even further, then righted itself.

I tried to rise. Pain shot down my arm. I managed to get to my feet. Emma hesitated, looking at me. I said, 'I can't use the ladder.'

'We were told to go to the space under the aftercastle.'

'You go. I can't.'

For the first time her expression was indecisive, uncertain. She stepped off the ladder and stood beside me. The ship was still turning, some of the handgunners were clutching at the ports now with one hand. Staring ahead, I realized the Mary Rose intended to face the galleys side on, bringing her cannon to bear. I felt giddy and sank to the floor. Emma looked down at her torn shirt, the heartstone swinging on its cord. It was still hard to believe she was not a boy. She pulled the ends of the shirt together, then sat down beside me. 'Afraid, Master Shardlake?' she asked coldly.

'Leacon is right,' I answered. 'Everyone should be afraid to die.'

She laughed harshly. 'Rather die fighting than hang.' Her voice seemed perceptibly higher. Something else she had had to keep under control all these years.

I said, 'David is not dead, though he is badly hurt.'

She lowered her head, then spoke quietly. 'I did not mean to kill him. I thought I would kill you and Barak, but I couldn't.'

'I know.'

She did not answer, but sat with head bowed. I looked ahead again. The four galleys were close now, I saw their sides were richly gilded with the arms of France. They circled round, still in their square formation, bringing their guns into position to fire on the Mary Rose . I said, as steadily as I could given my thudding heart, 'It's coming.'

'Let it,' Emma answered without looking up.

I said, 'If we get out of this, Hobbey will pass your wardship to me. Then you can decide what you want to be.'

She looked up, her face set hard again. 'If we live I'll find another company. Fight the Scots, perhaps.'

'I risked all to try and save you.'

'Why?' she asked. 'Why did you? I never wanted—'

'To give you a chance. A choice—'

I broke off at the sound of a cracking boom. Dark grey smoke billowed out from the front of the galley facing us. There was an odd silence lasting perhaps twenty seconds, then one of the sailors said, 'That was close.'

Then from below came a shout of 'Give fire!' followed by the loudest noise I have ever heard, as all the cannon on the starboard side of the Mary Rose fired on the galleys, one after another after another, a series of tremendous crashing roars. I felt the impact travel up through my legs, making my very bones shake, and a dreadful pressure on the inside of my ears. The decks trembled and creaked. I turned to Emma; she had looked up, her eyes alight with excitement.

As the smoke cleared I saw the galleys were undamaged. The Mary Rose began turning to port, fast and steeply. I heard a cracking of sails. Then, through the doorway, I felt a sudden strong gust of wind.

'That's too fast,' one of the sailors said.

The ship heeled to starboard. I thought it would be like the earlier manoeuvre and she would right herself, but she tilted more and more. The soldiers on the port side, which rose high as the starboard side dipped lower, clung to the side of the portholes; their guns began slipping back through them and crashing down the decks. Looking through the doorway I saw a man fall off the topmast into the web of rigging, swivel guns fall from the topdeck railing, into the sea. I heard crashing and shouting below the netting enclosing the weatherdeck as men and equipment slid and fell. All this took only seconds, but the time seems to stretch out in my memory, detail after terrible detail. All the soldiers on our deck, and their guns, were now tumbling and crashing against the starboard side. The long cannon on the port side, too, began slipping from its mount.