It is magnificent. At the moment of impact, the king's eyes are open, his body braced for the atteint; he takes the blow perfectly, its force absorbed by a body securely armoured, moving in the right direction, moving at the right speed. His colour does not alter. His voice does not shake.

"Healthy?" he says. "Then I thank God for his favour to us. As I thank you, my lords, for this comfortable intelligence."

He thinks, Henry has been rehearsing. I suppose we all have.

The king walks away towards his own rooms. Says over his shoulder, "Call her Elizabeth. Cancel the jousts.

Author: Hilary Mantel