Magnus Mills - The Field of the Cloth of Gold

‘Ambition,’ I said. ‘Is that why Julian was overthrown?’

‘Most probably,’ answered Hen. ‘Thereafter, Thomas found life very difficult. Julian’s successors claimed that nothing had changed and that he remained their honoured guest. In reality, though, he felt as if he was being held hostage: he was friendless and far from home, and only after a long struggle did he manage to break free of them.’

Hen paused and glanced into the south-east.

‘The upshot of all this,’ he announced, ‘is that Thomas no longer trusts anybody, which is why he enlisted the services of Horsefall and Griep.’

‘The people who arrived last night?’

‘Yes,’ said Hen. ‘By all accounts they’re seasoned campaigners.’

‘They look like thugs to me.’

‘Well, Hogust looks like a thug,’ Hen replied, ‘but you seem to have made friends with him alright.’

‘That’s different,’ I said. ‘Hogust’s based in the north-east, whereas this lot are practically next door.’

Hen gave a shrug.

‘If you don’t like it,’ he said, ‘you’ll just have to move somewhere else, won’t you?’

Evidently, Hen was prepared to brook no criticism of Thomas’s judgement. I found his perpetual loyalty quite inexplicable, but there was no point in arguing with him. Even so, I still had my doubts. As we resumed our stroll, I debated whether Thomas hadn’t made a grave error. After all, Horsefall and Griep could hardly be described as meek and mild retainers: on the contrary, they were heavyweights who’d arrived with a band of equally heavy accomplices. True enough, their circle of tents was likely to discourage anyone else from settling nearby, and perhaps this was just what Thomas wanted. Nonetheless, I wondered at what cost his splendid isolation had been achieved.

Presently, our stroll took us to the extreme south-west of the field. Here we encountered a very pleasant scene: Yadegarian and his followers peacefully decorating their bowers, baking biscuits and tending the copper bath. Hen was rather pleased about the biscuits, especially since they’d acted on his advice and replenished their stocks.

‘We regard you as a sort of father figure,’ Yadegarian told him. ‘You’re welcome here whenever you wish.’

‘Thanks,’ Hen replied, glancing all around him. ‘I must confess, you seem to have created a perfect settlement.’

Indeed, the contrast with the hubbub of the north-east was striking. Instead of tumult, there was tranquillity; instead of fights and squabbles, there was harmony. At the same time, I couldn’t help noticing the air of vulnerability that lay over the camp. Kindness and hospitality were all very well, but they offered no defence against incursion, plunder and pillage.

‘Like a biscuit?’ said Yadegarian.

‘Wouldn’t say no,’ I answered.

‘They’re freshly baked.’

‘Even better.’

The biscuit he offered me was imprinted with a depiction of the sun rising, which I thought was most appropriate given Yadegarian’s hopes and aspirations. I sat munching it in silence, then all of a sudden a fantastic idea occurred to me. During the afternoon, Hartopp had suggested that somebody might move to the unclaimed territory of the north-west. Obviously the shot was aimed squarely at Hogust, but whether it had sunk in or not was still open to question. Meanwhile, there was no reason why I shouldn’t make the move myself. In fact, when I considered it properly, I realized it was a chance not to be missed. For a start, I’d be spared the unbearable sight of Thomas and Isabella emerging each morning from the shimmering white tent. Second, I could enjoy a new start with new outlooks and new horizons. Finally, I could put to the test Brigant’s bold assertion that life in the north was more ‘interesting’.

I decided not to mention it to the others, though. At least not yet. In the morning I’d simply pack up my tent and leave without explanation. Just for a change, it would be me who was the man of destiny, the adventurer and the pioneer. Possibly my foray into the north-west would cause a stir, but even if it did I no longer cared. All at once I felt a freedom I hadn’t known since my earliest days in the field; indeed, I was so pleased with myself I almost gave the game away.

‘What are you smiling about?’ asked Hen.

‘Nothing in particular,’ I replied. ‘Just pondering the future really.’

Eventually we wished Yadegarian a good evening and returned the way we’d come. Over in the south-east we could see Thomas and Isabella deep in conversation with one another. Or, more correctly, Isabella was talking to Thomas while he stood gazing vaguely into the distance. Plainly he still had a lot to learn about Isabella. I didn’t know much, but I could have told him he ignored her at his peril. She had her hands on her hips (always a dangerous sign) and was addressing him earnestly on some burning issue, but he continued to pay her no attention whatsoever. Well, more fool him! If he wasn’t careful he was going to lose her altogether (or so I hoped anyway).

My plan was to surprise everybody by moving at first light the following morning. When dawn came, however, it was me who got the surprise. When I looked out I saw that more tents had arrived overnight. There were nearly a dozen of them, all different colours, and they formed a second, outer circle around Thomas and Isabella. The couple were now hugely outnumbered, and it was obvious who was responsible for the influx. The new tents were very similar to those of Horsefall and Griep, with steep walls and pointed roofs, and I assumed they’d invited some friends and acquaintances of their own. Without doubt, the Great Field’s fame was spreading far and wide, and deservedly so. It struck me as odd, though, that the latest contingent had chosen to arrive under cover of darkness. As I gazed at the vast array of tents billowing in the breeze, with pennants fluttering and flags flying, I wondered if this was what Isabella had envisaged all those months ago.

Still, it was no business of mine, so I began making preparations to move. I worked quickly and efficiently, sorting out my possessions and packing up my tent. Half an hour later, everything had been stowed in a portmanteau or rolled into bundles. It was going to require two or three journeys to transfer all the items to a new location, so I sat down briefly for a rest.

Over in the south-east, Horsefall and Griep were up and about amid their tents. I had no idea who was who, but I had a feeling that Horsefall was the leader and Griep his deputy. Their comportment was sober, self-controlled and dignified; they certainly weren’t a disruptive element in the manner of Hogust’s uproarious brigades. Even so, the way they spoke quietly with their heads together suggested there was an underlying secrecy about them. For this reason, the pair were definitely worth keeping an eye on.

They had just paused at the edge of the outer circle when Thomas appeared in his doorway and glanced all around. I could tell he was astonished by the sight that met him: he stiffened noticeably before stepping outside, then marched across to remonstrate with Horsefall and Griep. He gestured towards the new tents, jabbed at the air with his hands, and raised his voice in anger. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the implication was very clear: by bringing in their friends, the newcomers had exceeded their welcome. Horsefall and Griep, meanwhile, seemed totally unmoved. They stood peering at Thomas with their arms folded, giving the occasional nod of acknowledgement, but saying nothing in reply. By this time, several of their comrades had emerged from their tents and begun roaming up and down the river bank. Considering they’d only been here a day, I thought they looked very much at home. Furthermore, I couldn’t imagine them leaving again just because Thomas had misgivings about their presence. It was a classic predicament: Thomas now held the south-east through force majeure , but he was also stuck with a mighty horde on his doorstep.