'Perhaps you think I would take the chance to run away for a soldier?' Hugh said mockingly.
Hobbey turned on him, his manner suddenly sharp and forceful. 'If you ever tried that, I would have the authorities bring you back at once. You would look a fine fellow then to the brave soldiers.'
Hugh gave me a sardonic half-smile. 'Master Shardlake would help you.'
'Assuredly I would,' I agreed firmly.
We rode on in silence. The ground grew ever steeper as we approached the crest of the hill. We had almost reached it when we turned left. We rode along for a mile or so, through a little town, halting near a large windmill. We rode up to the crest of the hill and I drew in a long breath at the view.
Before us lay a complicated vista of sea and land. The hill descended steeply to an area of flat land cradling an enormous bay, the narrowest of mouths giving onto the Solent, the green and brown of the Isle of Wight beyond. The bay had a sheen like a silver mirror in the noonday heat. The tide was out, revealing large brown mudbanks. Directly below us, at the head of the bay, was a huge square enclosure of white stone that I realized must be Portchester Castle. Over to the west I could see another wide bay, more sandbanks.
Hobbey followed my gaze. 'That is Langstone Harbour. It is too shallow for big ships. The land between Langstone Harbour and Portsmouth Haven is Portsea Island.'
I looked at the wedge of land between the two bays. At the southwestern end of the island, hard by the harbour mouth, I made out a dark smudge that must be Portsmouth. There were numerous ships in Portsmouth Haven. From here some were mere tiny dots but several which had their white sails up looked to be very large. The warships. At anchor out in the Solent there were many more, forty or fifty, ranging from tiny to gigantic in size.
'The fleet,' David said wonderingly. 'Gathering to await the King.'
'And the French,' Barak added soberly.
Hugh looked at me with a smile. 'Have you ever seen such a sight?'
'No,' I answered quietly. 'No, I have not.'
'Those out in the Solent are in deep water. There are many sandbanks there: with luck the French will not know where they are and will ground themselves.'
'They will have their pilots, as we have,' Hobbey observed impatiently.
I said quietly to Hobbey, 'I had not expected Portsmouth Haven to be so large, or to see so many mudbanks.'
'Near the harbour mouth, there is deep water.'
'The whole fleet can get in if they need to, I am sure,' David said proudly. 'Then the guns on either side of the harbour will keep the French out.'
I looked along the long crest of Portsdown Hill, which I realized was part of the long chain of the South Downs. As far as I could see, all along the hilltops, a chain of beacons marched, each with a guard beside it. To my right, the beacons continued, past a large encampment of soldiers' tents.
'Let us go on,' Hobbey said. 'It is near four miles to Portsmouth. Be careful, the road down is steep.'
We began to descend, towards the island.
WE RODE SLOWLY down the steep southern escarpment of Portsdown Hill. Ahead, two ox carts stacked with long tree trunks were descending the steep road with difficulty. We could not safely pass, so slowed our pace to ride behind them. I heard a clatter and turned. Feaveryear's horse had stumbled and almost pitched him from the saddle. 'Clumsy oaf,' Dyrick snapped. 'If I'd known you couldn't ride properly I'd never have brought you.'
'I'm sorry,' Feaveryear mumbled. I looked back at him, wishing that just for once he might answer Dyrick back.
Hobbey was looking at the fields of Portsea Island below us. 'There is some good growing land there, David,' he told his son. David did not seem interested. Like Hugh, he was absorbed in watching the ships, the distant specks in the harbour slowly becoming larger.
I said to Hobbey, 'Porchester Castle seems very large, but there are few buildings in the enclosure.'
'It is Roman, that is how they built their castles. It was the key to the defence of Portsmouth Haven till the silting up of the upper harbour isolated it.'
I looked down at Portsea island, a chequerboard of fields, the parts not under cultivation full of cattle and sheep. I made out movement on the roads, people and carts in the lanes heading for the town. I looked out at the Haven; sometimes trees and buildings hid the view but gradually I began to distinguish the ships more clearly. Several long, low craft were moving rapidly through the water, while four enormous warships stood at anchor; all were still like tiny models at this distance. I wondered whether Leacon and his men might be on one of the warships already. I could just make out a blur of movement along the sides of the smaller ships, like the scuttling legs of an insect.
'What are those?' I said to Hugh.
'Galleasses—ships that have both sail and oars. The oarsmen must be practising.'
