Page 134 of The Armor of Light

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A week later, in the Bell, Sal and Jarge sat down with Spade.

Spade said: ‘Hornbeam wants to see you – both of you.’

‘Why me?’ said Sal. ‘I’m not threatening to strike.’

‘Hornbeam always has spies, so he knows you’re helping Jarge.And Hornbeam’s son-in-law, Will Riddick, has got him convinced that you’re the devil in female form.’

‘I’m surprised he’s condescending to speak to me.’

‘He’d rather not, but I talked him round.’

‘How did you manage that?’

‘I told him that nine out of ten of his employees had joined your union.’

This was not true. The actual figure was about five out of ten. But that had been achieved in a week, and the total was still going up.

Sal was thrilled by the success but nervous about confronting Hornbeam in person. He was a confident man, accustomed to argument, a practised bully. How could she go up against him? She hid her trepidation with a sarcastic remark. ‘How kind of him to lower himself to my level.’

Spade smiled. ‘He’s not as clever as he thinks. If he was really smart he’d try to make a friend of you.’

She liked the way Spade thought. He always wanted to prevent an argument becoming a contest. She said: ‘Should I make a friend of Hornbeam?’

‘He’ll never allow himself to be friendly with a mill hand – but you might disarm him. You could say that the two of you have a shared problem.’

That was a good approach, Sal thought; better than a head-on attack.

The pot-man appeared and said: ‘What’ll it be, Spade?’

‘Nothing, thanks,’ Spade said. ‘We’ve got to go.’

‘He wants to see us right now?’ said Sal.

‘Yes. He’s at the Guild Hall and he’ll talk to you before he goes home for supper.’

Sal felt flustered. ‘But I haven’t got my best hat!’

Spade laughed. ‘Nor has he, I’m sure.’

‘All right, then,’ said Sal, and she stood up.

Spade and Jarge did the same. Spade said: ‘I’ll come with you, if you like. Hornbeam will probably have someone with him.’

‘Yes, please.’

‘But you must speak for yourselves. If I speak for you, it will give Hornbeam the impression that the hands are weak.’

She saw the logic of that.

They walked up Main Street from the Bell to the Guild Hall. Hornbeam was waiting for them, with his daughter, Deborah, in the grand room that served as meeting room for the council as well as courtroom. Will Riddick was there too. It made Sal nervous to be in here with two justices. There was nothing to stop them sentencing her here and now. Her throat felt constricted and she feared she might find herself unable to speak. She guessed Hornbeam had intended something like this. He wanted to make her feel vulnerable and weak. She could tell that Jarge was even more nervous. But she had to fight back against intimidation. She had to be strong.

Hornbeam was standing at the end of the long table around which the aldermen sat for council meetings – another symbol of his power over people such as Sal. What could she do to make herself feel that she was his equal?

As soon as she had asked herself the question, she knew the answer. Before Hornbeam could speak, she said: ‘Let’s sit down, shall we?’ and pulled out a chair.

He was nonplussed. How could a mill hand invite a clothier to be seated? But Deborah took a chair, and Sal thought she saw her suppress a smile.