The Silver Horse

by Kate Forsyth

  ‘Maybe,’ Emilia said hesitantly. ‘He seems to be in the thick of some Royalist plot. There’s some mysterious duke staying at the big house, and they were thrown into a panic when Coldham arrived, in case he discovered who he was. And he’s in disguise, this duke, he’s dyed his hair.’

  ‘How do you know?’ Sebastien said incredulously.

  ‘His hair was all black, but his eyebrows were still fair,’ Emilia said. ‘You know how careful you have to be, when you dye a horse’s coat, to make sure its whiskers are dyed too, else you’ll have a bay horse with white whiskers.’

  Sebastien grinned and shrugged, not wanting to admit he knew anything about dyeing the coats of stolen horses.

  ‘Well, this duke, he should’ve dyed his eyebrows and eyelashes too, and maybe stained his skin. He’s far too white to have such black hair. Anyway, I overheard the lord talking, and they were desperate to get this duke away before anyone guessed who he really was. And Tom was talking to him, at the races. So why would Tom go and get Coldham and the soldiers, if he knew how important it was to keep their business there secret?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Luka frowned. ‘It’s a puzzle.’

  ‘Anyway, I thought I heard someone following me and Sebastien, from the camp,’ Emilia said. ‘When he brought me down to meet you.’

  ‘No one from my family would’ve told the constables,’ Sebastien said angrily. ‘Why would they? It did nothing but get our horses taken away, did it?’

  ‘I guess not,’ Emilia said, though privately she thought it far more likely that someone from the gypsy camp would betray them than Tom Whitehorse. There had been that girl, Nadine, who had kept smiling and tossing her hair at Sebastien, without him ever noticing, and Cosmo, who had wanted her darling mare, and Old Janka, who seemed to care for nothing but her own family and her own fortune. These were Sebastien’s family, though, and she did not want to accuse them when he had done so much to help them.

  She put her hand to her coat buttons. ‘Thanks for the clothes,’ she said, a little uncertainly.

  ‘Keep them,’ he said abruptly.

  She nodded, half-grateful, half-affronted at the implication he did not want them back after she had been wearing them.

  ‘You don’t have any food, do you?’ Luka asked.

  ‘Nay. Sorry. I’m starving too.’

  ‘My dad didn’t give you anything to eat even?’ Sebastien cried.

  ‘There wasn’t time,’ Emilia answered. ‘I’m sure he meant to. He gave me the silver horse charm, though.’ She held up her wrist for Luka, even though it was too dark for him to see clearly. ‘And he’s promised to come to Kingston by the end of the month, to give us what help he can.’

  ‘Oh, wonderful!’ Luka cried.

  ‘He said that? My father said that?’ Sebastien asked, surprised.

  ‘And Cosmo.’

  ‘And my uncle!’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘But . . .’ It was clear Sebastien could not believe her.

  ‘I had to give them Alida,’ Emilia said in a muffled voice. ‘Not forever. Just until I give them back the silver horse charm, which I’ll do just as soon as Beatrice and Noah and everyone are free.’

  ‘You gave them Alida?’ Luka spoke very gently. He knew what the mare meant to Emilia.

  His understanding undid her. Too choked with tears to speak, Emilia could only nod her head. She felt his hand groping for hers in the darkness, and let him take it and give it a little squeeze.

  ‘But what use is the mare?’ Sebastien said. ‘We can’t get any foals from her in only a month.’

  ‘They’ll race her,’ Emilia said, sniffing and wiping her eyes on her sleeve. ‘No doubt they’ll run the poor darling to death over the next few weeks. They made a pot on her today. Your father was very pleased.’

  ‘I bet he was,’ Sebastien said. ‘He may be able to bribe the local garrison to give us back some of our horses if he got enough. Or he’ll go and buy some more. There’s the big horse fair coming up in Horsmonden in early September.’

  ‘He won’t have time to go to Horsmonden,’ Emilia said. ‘We made a deal. He has to be at Kingston by the end of this month. Though I don’t know where. We didn’t have time to set up a meeting place. Where would be a good place?’

  ‘Richmond Park is near Kingston,’ Sebastien said. ‘We often camp out there, especially now there aren’t any royal huntsmen to drive us out. The closest place would be Gallows Pond, which is near the Kingston Gate. I guess you won’t have any trouble remembering that name!’

  ‘No.’ Emilia gave a little shiver. ‘All right. Gallows Pond it is, near Kingston Gate, on the last day of the month.’

  ‘Well, then, I guess I’ll be seeing you there,’ Sebastien said. ‘Good luck.’

  Emilia rubbed the golden crown and smiled.

  ‘Wait!’ Luka cried. ‘Just one thing. The Wood family, from the New Forest. Know what happened to them?’

  ‘No. Sorry,’ Sebastien answered. ‘Haven’t heard of them in years. One got hanged, I think, for fortune-telling in Salisbury. I do remember that.’

  ‘What about the Smiths?’ Luka asked.

  ‘Oh, they’re at Horsmonden, at the cannon foundry there,’ Sebastien answered. ‘We see them every year when we go to the horse fair. Why? You going to go find them?’

  Luka nodded. ‘I’m sure they’ll be able to help us. We’ll go to the New Forest first, though, it’s closer. There must be someone there that can help us.’

  ‘Well, good luck,’ Sebastien said again, and stepped forward and took Alida’s bridle, preparing to lead her away. It was now so dark they could barely see the white blur of each other’s faces. Emilia was glad, for she was crying so hard she could hardly breathe. Alida baulked and would not go, dragging against Sebastien’s hand and turning her head to look for Emilia. The gypsy girl stepped forward and buried her face in Alida’s mane, sobbing.

  ‘She won’t come,’ Sebastien said. ‘Emilia! Your spell. The one you put on Alida. You’ve got to take it off. I don’t want to end up in the cold earth like your spell bag.’

  There was a long moment of fraught silence, Emilia struggling to catch her breath, then she said, very roughly, ‘Can’t take off the spell, for Alida’s still mine. I’m lending her to you, that’s all. But I’ll cut out the little charm hung in her mane, so she’ll go with you at least. Make me some light.’

  Luka scrabbled in his pocket until he found his tinder and flint, and lit the small lantern they carried hung to the strap of their bag. Yellow light flared up, illuminating Zizi’s small wizened face hanging over Luka’s shoulder, and Emilia’s grubby, tear-streaked face and swollen eyes. She scrubbed her cheeks with one hand, furious to be so revealed, and then took out her knife. Very carefully she ran her fingers through the mare’s silvery mane, and found the little plait of entwined white and black hair hidden beneath. Gulping back tears, she carefully cut it and stowed it away in her pocket, and then stroked Alida’s soft nose.

  ‘Goodbye, darling girl,’ she said. ‘It’s not for long. Less than a month. Then I’ll come and get you. Don’t let them run you to death.’

  ‘We’ll take care of her,’ Sebastien said. ‘Don’t you worry. Horses are our business, remember.’

  Emilia nodded. ‘Tell your father and your uncle if they try and cheat me, I’ll curse them to the very ends of the earth,’ she said, unsmiling.

  ‘I will,’ Sebastien said, just as solemnly.

  She gave Alida one more pat, and then stood back, unable to help the sobs shaking her from head to foot.

  ‘Hey, Sebastien,’ Luka called out. ‘Remember you promised to take Sweetheart for me?’

  Sebastien looked dismayed.

  ‘Thanks so much,’ Luka said. ‘We’ll get along much faster without her. I’ll get her from you when we see you at Thornton Heath.’

  Reluctantly, Sebastien took Sweetheart’s chain into his other hand, and then, slowly, led the horse and the bear out into the night.

 
Luka turned to grin at Emilia. ‘That’ll make sure he comes to meet us, as promised,’ he said cheerfully.

  She nodded.

  ‘You all right?’ he said.

  She shrugged.

  ‘Come on then,’ he said. ‘It’s just you, me and Zizi now.’

  ‘And Rollo,’ she said. The big dog wagged his tail, sending up a cloud of dust.

  ‘And Rollo,’ Luka agreed. ‘Let’s hope he catches us a rabbit, because I’m starving!’

  ‘Yesterday we feasted, today we starved . . .’ Emilia said.

  ‘Tomorrow we’ll feast again,’ Luka said.

  ‘I hope.’

  ‘With a bit of luck,’ Luka replied, hoisting the bag up on his back. ‘Ooof! I have to carry this now Alida’s gone. Criminy, it’s heavy.’

  ‘It’s a long way to the New Forest,’ Emilia said, following him out into the graveyard. Clouds blew over the sky, and the wind was full of secret rustlings that made her feel afraid.

  ‘Aye,’ Luka said. ‘Sooner we start walking, the sooner we get there.’

  Emilia felt in the darkness for the little silver horse that hung from her wrist, galloping endlessly upon the air. It had cost her greatly, winning this charm. She could not help wondering what sort of price she would have to pay for the charm of the sprig of rue, the bitter herb of grace. If they could but find it . . .

  T h e F a c t s B e h i n d t h e F i c t i o n

  Horseracing has occurred on the North Downs for centuries. James I (1566–1625) used to attend races on the Downs near Epsom, while staying at the palace at Nonsuch, and both he and his son, Charles I, were very interested in breeding horses for racing. Along with many other popular pastimes, horseracing was banned during the Commonwealth. Many instances of soldiers being sent out to break up illegal horseraces have been recorded.

  Cromwell was, however, as much interested in horse-breeding as the king he helped to the scaffold. He imported a number of Arab horses, then called Turks or Barbarys, and bought or requisitioned many others, in an attempt to breed up strong, fast horses for his light cavalry.

  Edward Hyde, the Earl of Clarendon, wrote in his famous histories that, in 1658, a meeting of Royalists was held at Banstead Downs, as Epsom Downs were then called, under the pretence of a horserace.

  The Royalist cause had been firmly stamped out in England, with suspected Royalist families being charged an extra ten per cent tax, which impoverished many old families, as well as numerous trials and executions. There were still those who longed for the return of royalty, however, and several underground resistance groups flourished, including the Sealed Knot, who had the sanction of King Charles II, and a rival group, the Action Party. In 1658, one of the king’s men, James Butler, the Duke of Ormonde, dyed his famously fair hair black and travelled through England in disguise, trying to raise support for a rebellion to restore Charles II to his throne. It is highly likely that he was present at the secret meeting on Epsom Downs.

  A Note on Gypsy Names

  English gypsies have a double nomenclature, each tribe or family having a public and a private name, one by which they are known to the gorgios, and another to themselves alone. Their public names are quite English, and are often chosen in an attempt to translate their private names from Romani.

  For example, the gypsy family, the Smiths, have a private name of Petulengro. In Romani, petali or petala signifies a horseshoe; the affix engro is derived from the Sanscrit kara, to make, so that Petulengro may be translated as a horseshoe-maker.

  Many other gypsy families chose aristocratic names, such as Marshall, for themselves. Gypsy scholars believe that the different tribes may have sought the protection of certain powerful families on their first arrival in England, and were permitted by them to stay in their heaths and woodlands, and so the families adopted the names of their patrons, as a way of explaining where they belonged.

  The Rom enjoy word play, and so many names are a play on either the sound or the meaning of a word. For example, the Lovel tribe adopted the name of an old and powerful English family, but not from any desire to win their patronage, but because their private name was Camomescro, which means a lover, or an amorous person.

  The names of the six tribes in the Chain of Charms are the names of real seventeenth-century gypsy families. The Finch tribe of Norwood, Surrey, were famous for their fortune-telling, and Samuel Pepys’ wife visited Maggie Finch to have her fortune told. The Wood family were wood-carvers and wagon-builders, and are said to have introduced the fiddle into Wales in the late 1600s, moving from their usual haunt in the south of England. The Hearne or Herne family may have chosen their name for its similarity to either ‘heron’ or ‘hairy’ – gypsy scholars are not sure. I, however, was struck by its similarity to Herne the Hunter, and since the Hearne family were famous for their horse-dealings, I like to think that is where they got their name from.

  There are many more than six gypsy families in England.

  The Herb of Grace – Book 3 in the Chain of Charms

  by Kate Forsyth

  15th August – 19th August 1658

  Luka and Emilia must travel to the New Forest to find the Wood tribe, whose charm is a rue flower, the herb of grace. Its power is that of plants and herbs – which can both heal and poison. On the way, the two children tangle with an impoverished widow, the thief-taker Coldham, a highwayman and a witch, and find themselves caught up in a Royalist plot to restore King Charles II to his throne.

  Also available from Pan Macmillan, the final books by Kate Forsyth in the Chain of Charms series:

  The Cat’s Eye Shell (May 2007)

  The Lightning Bolt (July 2007)

  The Butterfly in Amber (September 2007)