The Field of the Cloth of Gold

14

Down at the landing stage lay an impounded longboat. Hogust was far too proud to plead for its return, and he certainly had no intention of paying Hollis’s ‘extortionate fee’ (as he described it). In consequence, he decided the boat could stay exactly where it was for the time being.

‘I’ve no immediate use for it,’ he remarked. ‘If Hollis wants to take care of it over the winter, it’s up to him.’

The news was then relayed to Hogust that his decision rendered him liable for a seasonal berthing charge. He responded by vowing never to visit the south-east again. The people down there were a bunch of sharks, he said, ready to fleece a man as soon as look at him! They could keep the damned boat and he hoped it went rotten in its bilges!

‘That’ll teach them a lesson!’ he declared.

Hogust’s portrayal of the south-east may not have been entirely accurate, but in one respect he was fairly near the truth. It seemed that every transaction was subject to some type of price, fee or charge: these were practically unavoidable, and nobody could get anything done without having to dip into their pockets. The latest swindle, apparently, was a toll for crossing the river, and it came as no surprise when I learnt that all the proceeds were going to Thomas. However, he didn’t lower himself by collecting the tolls in person: instead, he appointed Horsefall and Griep as his agents. According to them, it was ‘widely known’ that Thomas had discovered the crossing in the first place, and therefore he was entitled to charge others for the privilege of using it.

As a matter of fact, Horsefall and Griep were playing an increasingly large part in the day-to-day affairs of the Great Field. Not only were they close associates of Thomas, but I also saw them at the landing stage talking to Hollis, and escorting Hippo when he went on his promenades among the tents. It all looked extremely cosy, and I realized that I’d slipped very much into the role of an outsider.

Horsefall’s men were seldom idle, and one day they came around the field distributing handbills. They moved methodically from tent to tent, making sure that nobody was excluded. The whole task was carried out very politely, yet with an air of authority which suggested the handbills could not be ignored. I received mine just before dusk, and I sat down to read it in the twilight. It went as follows:

WE WISH TO NOTIFY EVERYONE THAT THE COPPER BATH BELONGING TO ISABELLA WAS MISAPPROPRIATED SEVERAL WEEKS AGO, AND HAS SINCE BEEN PUT TO A NUMBER OF DISHONOURABLE USES. ISABELLA DESPAIRS AT THE LOSS OF THIS TREASURED POSSESSION, WHICH IS HERS BY INDEFEASIBLE RIGHT. MOREOVER, SHE DESIRES THE BATH TO BE HIDDEN FROM VIEW AND EMPLOYED ONLY IN ITS PROPER PURPOSE. THOSE WHO STOLE IT ARE BEYOND REDEMPTION, BUT THEY COULD AT LEAST SHOW THEIR REMORSE BY RETURNING IT TO ITS ORIGINAL OWNER AT ONCE.

The handbill was signed by Thomas and Isabella. I studied it closely for a few minutes to make sure I understood it correctly, but even so I was left feeling rather bewildered. Why, I wondered, had they bothered to publish a handbill when everybody knew the precise whereabouts of the copper bath? It was plainly visible from all four corners of the field and was hardly a secret. If Isabella thought she had a prior claim, then surely it would have been much simpler to go to Yadegarian and ask for it back. As far as I recalled, Yadegarian had taken the bath into his custody solely for safekeeping. He was a reasonable man, and I had no doubt that some sort of accommodation could easily have been reached. Instead, Thomas and Isabella were adopting this heavy-handed approach which promised only to lead to further unpleasantness. Actually, the assertion that the bath had been stolen was quite offensive!

There was something else too. As I read and re-read the notice, I began to suspect that Hippo might have had a hand in its composition. Both the tone and the wording were familiar and, given his outspoken opinion regarding the copper bath, I became more and more convinced I was correct. Without question, Hippo’s personal influence was spreading by leaps and bounds: in no time at all he’d been transformed from a ragged wanderer into the occupant of a splendid crimson tent; he enjoyed the full support of Thomas, Isabella, Horsefall and Griep; and now it seemed he was trying to turn the whole populace against Yadegarian. I peered into the descending gloom, and realized that since Hippo’s arrival the Great Field had undergone yet another change.

It was difficult to tell whether anybody else shared my misgivings. The handbill was never discussed in public, but I assumed it would find little favour with the likes of Hartopp, who had a profound sense of fair play. On the rare occasions when I spoke to him, however, he made no mention of it.

I say ‘rare occasions’ because Hartopp was now constantly engaged in dealing with Hogust. Ever since the incident at the landing stage, Hogust had become an exceedingly difficult neighbour. He wasn’t openly hostile to Hartopp, but he clearly blamed him for the way he’d been treated by Hollis and Eldred. During the following days, minor instances of sabotage started to occur around Hartopp’s encampment. These were nothing serious, barely worse than ill-conceived practical jokes: guy ropes slackened, buckets of water overturned and so forth. All the same, their nuisance value soon weighed heavily on Hartopp. Obviously the finger of suspicion pointed at Hogust and his band of freebooters, who were assumed to be exacting some crude form of revenge. There was never any proof, of course, but it was generally agreed that they were behind the attacks. For his part, Hartopp quietly resigned himself to a life of unceasing watchfulness. After a while, though, a rumour began to circulate in which Yadegarian’s name was linked to the sabotage. It was a blatant attempt, the rumour suggested, to sow the seeds of discord between the various settlements. I had no idea where this rumour originated, but it gradually gathered momentum until it became widely accepted as a fact. Naturally, I was outraged. I knew Yadegarian well enough to be certain he would never stoop to such measures, so I decided to raise the matter with Hen.

It transpired that the rumour had failed to reach him, but he listened with interest as I recounted what I’d heard.

‘It’s preposterous,’ I concluded. ‘Yadegarian and his companions are completely harmless. The last thing they’d do is try and stir up trouble.’

‘You’re quite correct,’ said Hen, ‘but unfortunately they’re a minority, and minorities are the easiest to pick on.’

‘But I’m a minority,’ I said, ‘and you are too.’

Hen raised his eyebrows.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘we’d better be careful then, hadn’t we?’

I pondered these words as we gazed silently at the little group of tents in the south-west.

‘I don’t suppose,’ I said at length, ‘that Yadegarian could be persuaded to return the copper bath?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ replied Hen. ‘I’ve already spoken to him and he refuses to let go of it. From his standpoint the truth is plain to see: he saved an abandoned bath from vanishing into obscurity, he restored it to its original condition, and now he has the paramount claim of ownership. Furthermore, he thinks the only reason Isabella wants it back is because the weather’s turned nasty and she can’t bathe in the river.’

‘Very well argued,’ I remarked.

‘And he’s unlikely to change his mind,’ said Hen.

It was ten o’clock in the morning: the time had arrived for Thomas and Isabella to embark on their daily ‘progress’. We watched as they emerged from amid the sea of tents and headed along the river bank towards the crossing. They were all alone, which was unusual because they were normally accompanied on these excursions by Hippo, who invariably found some subject or other to discuss with the pair of them. As well as being a gifted orator he was apparently a very good listener too, and he always offered an attentive ear to Isabella. This was more than could be said about Thomas, who persisted in his habit of only half-listening. He seemed to live in a world of his own and spent many hours gazing into the distance, completely lost in thought. A sharp word from Isabella usually snapped him out of his reverie, but she still found his aloofness hugely irritating. Meanwhile, Hippo took advantage of the situation and became her trusted confidant. Thomas appeared scarcely to notice that Hippo was moving closer and closer (even his tent was next door to theirs), and showed no objection when he joined them on their strolls.

Today, however, there was no sign of Hippo, and they wandered alone. Presently they reached the crossing, where they stopped to observe Horsefall’s men collecting tolls from some newcomers. Despite the deteriorating conditions, there was a perpetual flow of people travelling back and forth over the river. Thomas’s Crossing (as it was now known) frequently teemed with activity, and it had become a highly lucrative source of income. All the same, I could tell Isabella was far from satisfied. Once or twice I saw her glance towards the south-west; then she turned and placed her hands on her hips before addressing Thomas. On this occasion it looked as if he was listening properly, and I guessed she was voicing her opinion about the copper bath. After a prolonged conversation, Thomas nodded his head in agreement and the two of them meandered slowly home. Down at the water’s edge, the tolls continued to be levied.