C.J. Sansom - Heartstone

Edwin shook his head. 'Some are saying the gun ports weren't closed quickly enough as the ship turned. Others have it she was top-heavy with all the cannon, and too many soldiers on board. I heard she might have been hit, too, by the galleys. Whatever the cause, all those men are dead.'

'The French—what happened? The Great Harry fired on the galleys—'

'The galleys went back to the main fleet. They were trying to draw us into deep water to do battle with the French fleet, but Lord Lisle wasn't to be had like that. We'd have been overwhelmed.'

'I saw fires on the Isle of Wight.'

'The French have landed near two thousand men there, but they're being beaten back. The two fleets are still at a stand-off. They're badly led, luckily for us. Though if the wind favours their ships they could still attack ours. You should leave, soon as you can.' He gave me a little more beer, then looked at me curiously. 'We've been wondering, sir, what you were doing on board. You're not a sailor or soldier. You sound like a gentleman.'

'I shouldn't have been there. I intended to get off, but then the ship sailed out.'

'Where were you on the Mary Rose ?'

'On the aftercastle. By the walkway over the netting. I managed to crawl out onto it.'

Edwin nodded. 'And you were in your shirt, so you didn't just fall to the bottom like so many.'

I lay back again. Memories of what had happened were returning in fractured jerks: the ship heeling over at that impossible angle, the man grasping at me as I crawled across the walkway, Emma behind. I said, 'There was someone in the water with me—'

Edwin got to his feet, wincing. He had had a fracture below one knee; it had set badly, at a strange angle. 'Yes,' he said, 'there was a boy rescued with you. You were both clinging to the Mary Rose emblem. You were lucky. The boatmen tried to pull the emblem in, but it sank—'

'A boy?'

'Yes. Well-set-up lad, with a scarred face.' He looked at me again. 'Your son, perhaps?'

'No. But sh—he—saved me. Where is he?'

'Gone. I was one of those helping survivors off the boats. He was lying face down underneath you. He seemed unconscious, but when the boat hit the wharf he shoved you off, went up the steps like a monkey and ran away down Oyster Street. We called after him—he seemed injured, holding one arm tight across his chest. But he just kept running. You didn't know him?'

'No. I only wondered what happened to him. He pulled me onto the spar. Tell me, did any officers survive?'

'No. They were all under the netting.'

I remembered West arguing with Carew and the master. So he was dead too, they all were. Vividly, in bright, terrible flashes, I saw Leacon's company falling into the sea, sinking to the bottom in an instant.

I SLEPT INTERMITTENTLY. The man who had been groaning became quiet; he must have died, for I saw Edwin and his fellows carry a body out, draped in a blanket. It was worse being awake; I kept seeing, again and again, the deaths of Leacon and his men. Then I would remember them tramping down the country lanes, the arguments and jokes and little kindnesses; Leacon riding at the front with Sir Franklin, hating the sound of drums. Edwin and his colleague gave me more to drink, and later tried to make me take a little soup, but I could not bear to eat.

Next time I woke it was daylight. I felt rested now, in body at least. I looked at the man on the sacks next to me, a young sailor. He said something in Spanish. I was too tired to remember the few words I knew and shook my head apologetically. I struggled to get to my feet, but only managed three faltering steps before my head swam and I had to grasp at a pillar. Edwin limped towards me. 'You're still weak, sir,' he said. 'You were insensible some time, you should lie down again. Try to eat something.'

'I can't.' A horrible thought struck me. 'Have any of the king's officials been here?'

He laughed bitterly. 'No. The royal party haven't left South Sea Castle and the tents.'

'The Queen—is she there?'

'No. At Portchester. The only visitor we've had is from the town council; they're arguing with Governor Paulet over whether they or the army should pay for the care of those here.' He gave me that inquisitive look again. 'Were you expecting someone?'

I shook my head. I let go of the pillar, and staggered back to my sacks.

WHEN NEXT I woke night had fallen again. I was conscious of someone sitting next to me and sat up with a start. It was Barak, on a stool, with a lamp next to him.

'Jack?' I asked hesitantly, for my dreams had been peopled with phantoms.

He took a deep breath. 'Ay.'

'How did you get here?'

'When you didn't arrive at Petersfield I rode back to Hoyland to see if they had news of you or Emma. They said neither of you had returned so I rode down here. I arrived this morning and learned Leacon's company had gone down with the Mary Rose . I could see the top of the masts sticking out of the water. I thought you were fucking dead,' he burst out in sudden anger. 'Then I learned some survivors had been brought here and came to see.'

'I was on the aftercastle, I managed to get off into the water. Emma rescued me.'

'She lives too?'

'Yes, but when the boat brought us ashore she ran away. On the ship—I told Leacon who she was; he made her take off her jack and helmet, open her shirt. I exposed her as a woman. But it saved her. Jack, they're all gone. Leacon, Carswell, Llewellyn, everyone we knew.' Tears sprang to my eyes. 'It was my fault, it was because of me that Rich put them on that ship—' I started to weep.

Then Barak did something I would never have expected—he leaned forward and took me in his arms.

LATER I WAS able to sit up. I told Barak the story—my imprisonment by West, the scenes on the aftercastle, escaping via the walkway and being helped by Emma in the water. He told me he had picked up some letters that had been delivered to Hoyland—Tamasin was well, but worried that he had not returned to London. Guy said Coldiron was becoming troublesome and surly over his protectiveness towards Josephine.

'That doesn't surprise me,' I said.

He did not reply for a moment, then burst out angrily, 'Why didn't you send me a message?'

'I'm sorry. All I could think of was that our friends died because of me.'

'If it hadn't been George Leacon's company, it would have been another, a different set of women and children mourning.'

'But knowing them—' I shook my head desperately—'knowing them makes all the difference.'

'It was Richard Rich put them on the Mary Rose ,' he said.

'Because he knew West was there. I saw them fall into the water. They never had a chance. I should have died with them: that would have been justice.'

'What good would that do? Another man dead? Me left to tell Tamasin and Guy? I thought I was going to have to do that, you know.'

I looked at him. 'I am sorry.' I sighed. 'How is David? I should have asked—I cannot seem to order my thoughts.'

'Dyrick was still at the priory, he wouldn't let me see Hobbey or David.' Barak looked at me hard. 'You should ride out and tell them Emma's alive. They'll have heard the Mary Rose went down with five hundred men by now, they'll be worried if they don't hear. You could get up if you'd eat something. That Edwin says you won't.'

'I can't eat.' I sat silent for a moment. 'Philip West—he had the death in action he wanted.'

'Action? He died because the arseholes in charge of this mess overloaded the Mary Rose and put a man who knew nothing of ships in charge. So they're saying in the taverns, anyway.'

'Just before Leacon and I went up to the aftercastle, we saw West. I looked at him—he knew I would bring him to account. I was so full of—righteousness. As I have been all along.'