“What the devil?” Despite Fleet Bob’s lessons, Smith found that his horsemanship was inferior to the more experienced huntsmen of Sir George’s riders. He trailed the others by five lengths when they reached Appleby and more when the leading rider rode into the square.
He peered over the heads of the crowd, searching for Bowlt and Kate, but saw only a mass of angry faces, raised hands and flying missiles.
“There he is!” A full-faced man at the head of the crowd shouted, pointing to Smith. “That’s the new Lord of the Manor! That’s Lord Fitzwarren that wants to deprive us of the Common!”
“Wait!” Smith shouted as a stone bounced off the road at Rodney’s feet. “I said, wait!” He held up his hand, but to no avail, as the crowd released more missiles. Smith fought to control Rodney as the hors
