The Field of the Cloth of Gold (17 page)

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).

13

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.

The next person to surface was Isabella, and when she headed directly towards the new tents I fully expected her to join the fray. I knew from experience that she could be a fierce opponent, so I braced myself for a pitched battle. This morning, however, Isabella was cool, calm and collected; moreover, she made every attempt to resolve the impasse. For the last five minutes, Thomas had been laying down the law and getting nowhere. Isabella’s approach was entirely different. She greeted Horsefall and Griep with a smile and a handshake, then listened politely as they presented their case. Again, of course, I had no idea exactly what was being said, but eventually some sort of accord was reached and the two parties went their separate ways. Whether it was settled to Thomas’s satisfaction remained obscure, but at least the situation was no longer critical. One thing was certain: for the moment, he was going to have to learn to live amongst his neighbours.

By contrast, I would soon have no neighbours at all! With unbridled glee I carried my equipment to the remote north-west and set up a brand-new camp. Just as Hartopp had described, it was wild and windswept. It was also thrillingly empty. I chose a piece of ground and pitched my tent facing down the field. The south-east lay partially lost from sight beyond the turf wall, but otherwise I could see all that was going on without getting involved. It was perfect, and I kept asking myself why I hadn’t made the move before.

Not until hours later did the answer occur to me. I was sitting alone by my tent and I had nobody to talk to, not even Hen. All across the field I could hear the faint ebb and flow of faraway conversations, but I was unable to join in with any of them. Apart from gazing at distant tents I hadn’t really got enough to keep me occupied, and I was already beginning to regret my decision. Even so, there was no question of going back. My pride wouldn’t allow such a reversal; therefore, I simply had to make the best of my new-found solitude.

As the afternoon dragged on I watched the shadows slowly lengthen, and after a while I realized I had a visitor. Plodding over the northern slope came Brigant.

‘So,’ he said, when he drew near, ‘you’ve beaten Hogust to it.’

‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘I suppose I have.’

‘He proposes to move here at the first opportunity.’

‘Really?’

‘So he says.’

‘Is he planning to sail round?’ I enquired. ‘Or haul his boats overland?’

‘Not sure,’ said Brigant. ‘He hasn’t gone into the details.’

This last comment came as no surprise whatsoever. The reason Hogust hadn’t gone into the details was most likely because he had no intention of moving. It was all a sham. Hogust was an accomplished practitioner of rumour and speculation, and I had no doubt that he was up to some mischief or other. Still, it was nice of Brigant to bring me the latest gossip.

If only he’d waited a little longer, he would have had some proper news to tell me: news which in itself was fairly minor, yet which signalled the beginning of a gradual change in the Great Field.

It so happened that I witnessed the event without even knowing it. During the afternoon I’d spotted a lone sail moving down the river in the east, but I’d scarcely paid it any attention. I’d merely assumed it was one of Hogust’s vessels on a trial run. It transpired, however, that Hollis had defied his father, borrowed a boat, and headed southward. He’d gone ashore at Isabella’s former landing place and set up camp nearby. I only learnt all this the next day, and by then Hollis had been joined by his brother Eldred in a second boat. Naturally, Hartopp was thunderstruck, yet he was determined not to interfere.

‘They’re old enough to make up their own minds,’ he told me, when I called on him later. ‘It’s their choice.’

‘I’m astonished they went south,’ I said. ‘If they were seeking uncharted territory they should have made for the north-west.’

‘That’s what I’d have expected,’ replied Hartopp, ‘but their tastes have become more refined.’

‘Oh yes?’

‘It seems they prefer madding crowds to wide open spaces.’

‘But not their own madding crowds.’

‘No,’ said Hartopp, ‘that would have been far too easy.’

He was plainly disheartened. He didn’t utter the word ‘betrayal’, but he might just as well have.

To keep his mind off his many worries, Hartopp sought solace in hard work. With my assistance, he pulled his remaining boat further inland and made it secure; then he spent the afternoon clearing the rest of the nettles. I would have helped with this task as well, but there was no need. Hartopp produced a scythe from his tool store, sharpened it, and slashed relentlessly at the nettles until they all lay flat on the ground.

At the height of the operation, Hogust came sauntering along the river bank, having evidently heard the news of Hollis’s flight. He observed Hartopp for some moments; then he said, ‘I bet you wish you’d let me have the boats now, don’t you?’

Hartopp ceased work and gave Hogust a devastating look.

‘No,’ he replied at length. ‘I wish I’d scuppered them instead.’

Hogust said nothing more, and with a furrowed brow went wandering back the way he’d come.

Hollis and Eldred weren’t the only new arrivals in the south. Over successive days, an assorted collection of stragglers, camp-followers, pedlars and importuners appeared at the crossing in dribs and drabs. Some of them found places for their tents amongst Horsefall’s and Griep’s; others settled on the periphery, while still others colonized the river bank. I heard of these developments via second-hand reports, mainly from Brigant. He took a great delight in relating the goings-on beyond the turf wall, especially the fact that Thomas was being slowly encircled by the incomers. Apparently, the shimmering white tent looked as if it was under siege.

‘Serves him right,’ Brigant remarked. ‘He acts as if the whole world revolves around him, but in truth he’s a mere pageant.’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I couldn’t agree more.’

‘The way he carries on, anybody would think his tent was lined with cloth of gold!’

Brigant didn’t mention how Isabella was faring in all this; perhaps he didn’t know. It occurred to me that she’d probably been obliged to abandon her daily swim in the river. With all those people roaming everywhere, I imagined it was no longer possible to drift undisturbed in the dappled seclusion of the reed beds. Besides, the weather would soon be unsuitable for outdoor bathing. As each day passed, the clouds thickened and the breeze rose a little. There’d still been no rain as yet, but it couldn’t be very far off.

The advent of the long, autumnal evenings coincided with another change too: it emerged that a nightly curfew had been imposed in the lower field. At ten o’clock exactly, all the lights were extinguished and the residents fell silent. Not everyone slept, however. Throughout the hours of darkness, shadowy figures could be seen patrolling the walkways between the tents, presumably ensuring that all was well. The keepers of the watch were no doubt Horsefall’s men, and I wondered what was the purpose of the curfew. Quite possibly it had been arranged for Isabella’s sole benefit, so that she could enjoy her slumbers uninterrupted. If so, then her influence was plainly in the ascendancy. On the other hand, the curfew might simply have been a device for maintaining law and order. This was the more likely explanation, and it was a source of profound satisfaction for the northerners, since they were free from such restrictions. Indeed, the idea of Hogust being subject to a curfew was unthinkable.