Heartstone (Matthew Shardlake #5)(190)

He knelt beside me, placing a leather pouch to my lips. ‘Slowly, matey,’ he said, as a blessed trickle of weak beer ran down my throat. ‘Don’t gulp.’

I lay back, gasping. ‘Where are we?’

‘In one of the Oyster Street warehouses. They brought all of you here that survived. I’m Edwin, I work on the loading usually.’

I croaked, ‘How many? How many saved?’

‘Thirty-five pulled alive from the water. Those of you in a bad state were brought here. There are fifteen of you. One died earlier, God rest him.’

‘Thirty-five,’ I breathed. ‘Out of – ’

‘Five hundred. The rest are at the bottom of the Solent.’ His face, tanned and weatherbeaten, was sombre. ‘I knew some of them; I was a sailor till I smashed my leg five years ago.’

‘Did any soldiers survive?’

‘Two or three in the fighting tops managed to cling on. No others. The soldiers were heavy clad, they—’

‘Drowned. I saw. And heard the men under the netting, screaming – ’ My eyes were suddenly hot and stinging, though there was no moisture left in me for tears.

‘Here,’ the old sailor said, ‘easy now. Drink some more beer. You brought up a lot of water in the boat before you lost consciousness.’

I asked, ‘Did you see it? Did you see the ship go down?’

‘Everyone on shore did. We all heard the screaming too, as the King did at South Sea Castle.’

‘He saw the Mary Rose sink?’

‘They say he cried out, “Oh, my gallant gentlemen! Oh, my gallant men!” He thought of the gentlemen first, of course,’ he added bitterly.

‘Why? Why did she sink?’

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.’