Page 149 of The Armor of Light

‘Exactly.’

Jarge thought some more. ‘Did you know this was going to happen, Spade?’

‘I thought it was likely.’

‘That’s why you didn’t want us to go to Piggery Mill last Monday.’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s why you made us all meet here tonight.’

‘Yes.’

‘By the deuce.’ Jarge laughed. ‘I’ve said it before, Spade – you’re a bloody sly one.’

*

On Sunday morning after church the mayor, Frank Fishwick, organized an impromptu meeting at the Guild Hall. All the leading clothiers were invited, Anglican and Methodist. Both Hornbeam and Spade were there.

Spade knew that he had been invited not because he was one of the wealthiest but because he was close to the hands. He could tell the others what their workers were saying and doing.

Mayor Fishwick was in his fifties and stout, with a grizzled beard. He had a calm authority. He believed his job was to make sure Kingsbridge clothiers could do business unimpeded – he had no time for foolish notions about the rights of man – but he was not as combative as Hornbeam. Spade was not sure which way Fishwick would jump today.

Fishwick began by saying: ‘One thing I’m sure we can all agree upon. We cannot have running battles in the streets of Kingsbridge. We must put a stop to this immediately.’

Hornbeam went on the attack right away. ‘My Irish hands were peacefully spending their well-earned wages on Saturday night when they were set upon by thugs. I know. I was there.’

People looked at Spade, expecting him to contradict Hornbeam, but he remained silent.

As he hoped, someone else countered Hornbeam. It was Amos Barrowfield, a quiet chap who occasionally surprised everyone by having strong views. ‘I don’t much care who started the fighting,’ he said crisply. ‘This riot happened because more than a hundred foreigners were brought to Kingsbridge to break the strike.’

Hornbeam said angrily: ‘I was completely within my rights!’

‘I can’t deny that, but it doesn’t get us anywhere, does it?’ Amos replied. ‘What will happen next Saturday, Hornbeam? Can you suggest how we might prevent a recurrence?’

‘I most certainly can. Last night’s fight was deliberately provokedby the union that has been formed by discontented weavers. They must be suppressed.’

‘Interesting,’ Amos replied. ‘If that is so, then of course the offenders must be brought to justice. But I believe you held court this morning to deal with those arrested last night, and—’

‘Yes, but—’

‘Allow me to finish what I was saying,’ Amos said in a raised voice. ‘I insist on being heard.’

‘Let him say his piece, Hornbeam,’ Fishwick said firmly. ‘We’re all equals here.’

Spade was pleased. That intervention was a sign that Hornbeam was not going to have everything his own way.

‘Thank you, Mr Mayor,’ said Amos. ‘Hornbeam, your fellow justices weren’t informed of this morning’s session so couldn’t attend, but I understand that the accused men did not include any of your weavers nor any of the presumed organizers of the union.’

‘They were very sly!’ said Hornbeam.

‘So sly, perhaps, that they cleverly did not riot, and therefore are innocent.’

Hornbeam reddened with anger but was momentarily lost for words.

Spade judged it was time for him to speak. ‘I can confirm that, Mr Mayor,’ he said. ‘If I may?’

‘Please, Mr Shoveller.’