Page 113 of The Armor of Light
The wedding party left the church and walked to the jail. It was two big old houses knocked into one, with bars on the windows and locks on all the doors. Gil cheerfully showed them to Joanie’s small room. The floorboards were uneven, there was mould on the walls, and the fireplace was cold and empty, but no one cared. They were five adults and two children, and they soon warmed the place. Amos poured ale for everyone, and Jarge opened the oysters with his pocket knife. Gil offered to sell them a loaf of bread to go with the feast, and asked the outrageous price of two shillings, but Amos paid it anyway, saying: ‘Let him make a bit of extra money.’
‘My brother,’ said Joanie, raising her tankard in a toast. ‘I thoughthe’d never find a good woman, but he picked the best of the lot, God bless him.’
Jarge said: ‘I did, didn’t I? Now who’s going to say I’m not clever?’
Amos said: ‘It’s a match – two people with strong arms and kind hearts. And Kit is the cleverest boy in the Sunday school.’
Elsie added hastily: ‘And Sue is the most popular girl in school.’
Sal was euphoric. She had been anticipating a quiet evening at home, with stewed neck of mutton, and instead there was a banquet. ‘I bet noblemen’s weddings aren’t this much fun,’ she said. ‘With all their stiff clothes and nice manners.’
Joanie said: ‘My good woman, I would have you know that I am the Lady Johanna, the duchess of Shiring.’
Kit and Sue squealed with laughter.
Sal played along. She curtsied, then said: ‘I am honoured by your condescension, duchess Johanna, but I must point out that I am the countess of Kingsbridge, and nearly as good as what you are.’
Joanie turned to Jarge and said: ‘You there, open me another oyster.’
Jarge said: ‘My dear duchess, you have mistook me for a butler, but I am in fact the bishop of Box, and cannot open oysters with my lily-white hands.’ He showed his palms, which were brown, scarred, and not perfectly clean.
Sal, giggling, said: ‘Dear bishop, I find you very attractive, give me a kiss.’
Jarge kissed her and they all clapped.
Sal looked around the room and realized that all the important people in her life were here: her child, her husband, her best friend, her friend’s child, the woman who was teaching Kit, and Amos, the master who had always brought her good fortune. There were cruel and wicked people in Kingsbridge and the world, but everyone in this room was good. ‘This must be what heaven is like,’ she said.
She swallowed another oyster and drank a long draught of ale, then she said: ‘And I doubt whether there’s anything in heaven that tastes better than oysters with ale.’
*
Kingsbridge was proud of being an assize town. It was a mark of distinction and an acknowledgement that this was the most important place in the county of Shiring. The twice-yearly visit of a judge from London was a big event in the social calendar, and he always had more invitations than he could accept.
The council welcomed him with a magnificent Assize Ball. The aldermen were not spendthrift, however: tickets were costly and the ball made a profit.
Hornbeam’s house was only a quarter of a mile from the Assembly Rooms, and the evening was fine, so he and his family walked. The endless rain of the summer and autumn had stopped, thankfully, though it was far too late to rescue the harvest.
There were three couples in the Hornbeam party: himself and Linnie, Howard and Bel, and Deborah with Will Riddick. The young men wore white gloves and glossy boots, and their cravats were tied in huge bows that looked foolish to Hornbeam. The young ladies’ necklines were lower than he liked, but it was too late now to make them change.
Outside the porticoed entrance stood a crowd of townspeople, mostly women with shawls wrapped around cold shoulders, watching the arrival of the rich folk. They cooed at displays of jewellery and clapped for any particularly extravagant outfit: a bright yellow cloak, a white fur, a tall hat with feathers and ribbons. Hornbeam ignored the rabble and fixed his gaze straight ahead, but his family waved and nodded to acquaintances as they passed through the admiring throng.
Then they were inside. A small fortune had been spent on candlesand the whole place was brightly lit, revealing a host of magnificently dressed women and splendid men. Even Hornbeam was impressed. Kingsbridge clothiers and their families wore their best fabrics for such events. The men were in tail coats of purple, bright blue, lime green and rich chestnut. The women wore bold checks and bright stripes, pleats and gathers and sash belts, and yards of lace. It was a massive advertisement for the town’s collective genius.
People were lining up for the contradance, in which the lead couple kept changing. Hornbeam noticed that Viscount Northwood was taking part. Surprisingly, Northwood looked as if he had already drunk quite a lot of champagne.
Deborah said: ‘I hope this band can play a waltz.’
‘Out of the question,’ said Hornbeam immediately. He had never seen a waltz but he had heard about the new dance craze. ‘This is the Assize Ball, a respectable event organized by the borough council. We’ll have no obscene dancing.’
Deborah usually gave in to her father, but now she pushed back. ‘There’s nothing obscene about it! People in London do it all the time.’
‘This is not London, and we don’t permit dances in which people hug one another...frontally. It’s disgusting. They might not even be married!’
Howard grinned and said: ‘You know, Father, you can’t actually get pregnant waltzing.’ The others laughed loudly.
Hornbeam was irritated. ‘That’s not a very helpful remark, Howard, especially in front of the ladies.’
‘Oh. Sorry.’
