The Forest - Edward Rutherfurd [164]
He shook his head and told himself not to be so foolish. He glanced at the tree again and it was normal. But his hands were trembling. Not a little shaken by this maternal hallucination, he turned his horse’s head and made away for Lyndhurst.
Young Nick Pride bided his time all through winter. Early April saw drenching rains but then a gentle warmth spread through the Forest. The world became green again; blossoms broke out. He knew that the time had now come, that Jane was waiting for him to declare himself; but he, too, had his part to play.
All through April he came courting. Sometimes they might not see each other for a day or two, but if they did not find some other reason, they were sure to meet at Minstead church on Sunday. Nor were there any lovers’ quarrels; they had, it seemed, no need for that. She was sensible Jane Furzey and he was handsome young Nick Pride, and that was all there was to it.
All the same, Nick Pride thought as the time approached, perhaps it was better if she were not quite sure of him – just for a day or two; so she didn’t take him for granted. He planned it very carefully.
Towards the end of April Albion assembled a muster at Minstead. Nick Pride was called, of course; so were Jane’s brother and two other men from Brook. They were going to stage a small parade and John knew that Jane and her family would be coming down to watch. He chose the evening two days in advance of the muster, therefore, to make his opening move.
The village of Minstead lay on the slope of a high rise that ran westwards across the central section of the Forest. The Minstead cottages mostly straggled along the lower half of the lane that climbed up to the crest of the rise, at the top of which the lane passed round a curious feature.
Castle Malwood, they called it, although there was never any castle there. It was just another of the small earthwork rings, like those at Burley and Lymington, which demonstrated that iron-age folk had used the Forest once, before the Romans came. Occupying the ridge’s highest local point, however, it had obviously been chosen because it offered commanding views of the area and, since Albion had ordered a thinning of the trees that had grown up below its modest banks, the site’s ancient pre-eminence had been partly re-established. From the top of its earth wall, now, one could see clean across the southern half of the Forest to the Isle of Wight: which was why it had been chosen as the perfect place to build the inland beacon, of which Nick was the guardian.
He was feeling quite proud of himself, therefore, as he led Jane, with her little dog Jack, up on to the grassy rampart of Malwood that evening and pointed out the view. ‘That’s where the big beacon will be.’ He pointed to the Isle of Wight. ‘And here’ – he indicated – ‘the very spot you’re standing on, Jane, is where we’ll be putting up our beacon next week.’
He was pleased to see that she looked suitably impressed.
‘What do you think will happen, Nick, if the Spanish come?’ She was looking at him with a trace of concern.
‘I’ll light my beacon and we’ll all muster, and then we’ll go down and fight them. That’s what’ll happen.’ He watched her and saw the thoughtful look on her face. ‘Afraid something might happen to me, are you?’ he asked, secretly delighted.
‘I? No,’ she lied and shrugged. ‘I was thinking of my brother.’
‘Ah.’ He smiled to himself. ‘You shouldn’t fear,’ he said handsomely. ‘When the Spanish see the whole muster I doubt they’ll dare to land.’
They talked, after this, of smaller matters. The sun slowly sank towards the horizon. The Forest before them was bathed in a golden haze, while the Isle of Wight in the distance began to turn blue-grey. It was very quiet. She gave a small shiver; he put his arm round her and then they gazed together towards the south in silence.
‘I love to look over the Forest,’ she said after a while.
‘So do I.’ He let some more time pass.
‘Well, Nick.’ She smiled up into his face now. ‘If the Spaniards