Magnus Mills - The Field of the Cloth of Gold

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.