Heartstone (Matthew Shardlake #5)(51)

Feaveryear walked slowly away. I saw him look at the girls from the corner of his eyes. Dyrick laughed.

‘He can’t help hoping to see a pair of bubbies, for all his godliness,’ he said, then added sharply, ‘though Sam is keen and sharp enough to help ensure your case against the Hobbeys is shown for the nonsense it is.’

I looked over the room, refusing to rise to his taunts. One of the carters had his face buried in a girl’s bosom now. Then my attention was drawn by an officer in a soldier’s white coat, sword at his waist. He sat hunched over a pile of papers at the corner of a table, seemingly oblivious to the clamour around him. I stared harder, for I seemed to recognize that shock of curly blond hair, the regular features beneath. I nudged Barak.

‘That officer over there. Do you recognize him?’

Barak peered through the dim room. ‘Is it Sergeant Leacon? I’m not sure. But he was discharged from the army.’

‘Yes, he was. Come, let us see. Excuse us, Brother Dyrick, I think I recognize an old client.’

‘Some fellow you got lands for from his landlord?’

‘Exactly.’

Barak and I weaved our way among the tables. The soldier looked up as we approached, and I saw it was indeed George Leacon, the young Kentish sergeant we had met four years before in York. I had done Leacon an injustice then, but put it right by wresting his parents’ farm from a grasping landlord. Leacon had been in his twenties, but now he had lines around his eyes and mouth that made him look a decade older. His blue eyes seemed more prominent too, with a strange wide stare.

‘George?’ I asked quietly.

His face relaxed into the broad smile I remembered. ‘Master Shardlake. And Jack Barak, too.’ He rose and bowed. ‘What are you doing here? By Mary, it must be three years since I saw you.’

‘We are travelling to Hampshire on a case. You are back in the army?’

‘Ay. They recruited me last year to go to France. They needed men with military experience. Even more so now, with invasion threatened. I am taking a hundred Middlesex archers down to Portsmouth. You probably saw them in the meadow.’

‘Yes. They were putting up their tents. Who was the finely dressed old fellow on the horse?’

Leacon grimaced. ‘Sir Franklin Giffard, captain of the company. One of the leading men in north Middlesex. He was a soldier in France in the King’s first war thirty years ago. Unfortunately he is, between ourselves – ’ he hesitated, then said, ‘a little old for command.’

‘He is certainly not young.’

‘They need a gentleman of substance to keep the soldiers in awe, but I was recruited to go up there, select a hundred good longbowmen, and be his deputy. I am a petty-captain now, promoted last year on the battlefield outside Boulogne.’

‘Congratulations.’

He nodded, but something blank came into his face for a moment. He said, ‘How do you fare?’

‘The law keeps me busy.’

‘It is good to see you again.’

‘Remember Tamasin Reedbourne?’ Barak asked.

‘Indeed I do.’

‘We are married,’ he said proudly. ‘And a baby due next month.’

Leacon shook his hand warmly. ‘Then it is you that deserves congratulation.’

‘How are your parents?’ I asked.

‘Both well, sir. Still on the farm that is theirs thanks to you. But getting older, they find the work hard now. I should take over, but – ’ he grimaced again – ‘it is easier to get into the King’s army than out of it just now.’

‘Truly spoken,’ Barak agreed with feeling.

Leacon gestured at the papers in front of him. ‘My suppliers’ accounts, for the men’s food. They are supposed to be settled in every town, and I have money to pay for them. But with this evil new coinage the local merchants charge more.’ He pushed the papers aside with an impatient gesture.

‘How many men are going to Portsmouth?’ Barak asked. ‘The roads are full.’

‘Six thousand are there or on the way, with many more local militia all along the south coast ready to be called out if the French invade.’

‘Jesu.’

‘And most of the King’s ships of war are there, fifty or sixty of them, so there are several thousand sailors too. I have to get my men to Portsmouth in four days. March on the Sabbath if need be.’

‘And the King himself is coming to inspect them all.’

Leacon looked at us seriously. ‘Word is the French fleet is thrice the size of ours, loaded with thirty thousand soldiers. There could be a hot time coming. My company may be going to the ships, to do battle if the fleets grapple together.’ He shook his head. ‘I sailed on a warship last year, but many of my men have never seen a body of water larger than the village pond. But we must do all we can to beat off the invasion, we have no choice.’ Something weary and almost despairing had entered Leacon’s voice. He looked as though he were about to say something more, then changed the subject. ‘Is it just the two of you travelling down?’

‘Wish it were,’ Barak answered.

‘No, we travel with another lawyer and his clerk. Not easy companions.’ I turned to look at Dyrick, but he had gone. ‘My fellow lawyer was keen to make the journey in four or five days but it does not seem we will do that. Today we have been forever held up behind carts.’