 Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantell, read by Dan Stevens. Putney, 1500. So now, get up! Felled, dazed, silent. Knocked full length on the cobbles of the yard. One blow properly placed could kill him now. His left eye is blinded, but if he squints sideways with his right eye he can see that the stitching of his father's boot is unravelling. So now, get up! Walter is roaring down at him, working out where to kick him next. He trots backwards, gathers pace, and aims another kick. It knocks the last breath out of him. The dog, Bella, is barking, shut away in an outhouse. I'll miss my dog, he thinks. The yard smells of beer and blood. Someone is shouting down on the river bank. He feels a sensation of movement, as if the filthy ground has become the Thames. It gives and sways beneath him. He lets out his breath, one great final gasp. He is pulled downstream, on a deep black tide. The next thing he knows is it is almost noon, and he is propped in the doorway of Pegasus, the flying horse. His sister Cat is coming from the kitchen with a rack of hot pies in her hands. She bawls for her husband. Morgan Williams, take this tray, body of God. Where are you all? A girl runs in. The master's gone to town. I know that fool. The sight of her brother had panicked the knowledge out of her. She thrusts the tray at the girl, fighting again. Or was it your father? Yes, he says, nodding, making his nose drop gouts of blood. Cat calls for water, for a cloth, for the devil to rise up right now and take away Walter, his servant. When Morgan Williams comes in, he is wearing his good town coat. He looks Welsh and pugnacious. It's clear he's heard the news. See? He makes a fist and jerks it three times in the air. That, he says, that's what he'd get from me. I wouldn't care, but look at you, boy. You could cripple the brute in a fair fight. It never is a fair fight, Cat says. He comes up behind you, right, Thomas, with something in his hand. Looks like a glass bottle in this case, Morgan Williams says. I don't suppose you saw. What was he wielding exactly? That's the value, says Cat, of an approach from behind. He'll pick up whatever's to hand. I've seen him do it to my mother, even our little bet. Also, I've not seen him do it, which was worse. And that was because it was me about to be felled. He shuts his eyes to make the left eye equal with the right. He tries to open both. Cat, he says. I have got an eye under there, have I? Because I can't see anything. Yes, yes, yes, she says. Anyway, what were you doing, Tom, to set him off? He usually won't start up till after dark, if it's for no cause at all. Yesterday, I was fighting. You were fighting yesterday? With the holy name, were you fighting? Morgan Williams says. I don't know. The name, along with the reason, has dropped out of his head. Oh, Cat says, they're always fighting, boys. Tom, you'd better stay with us now. Morgan Williams, what'd you say? It'll be good to do the heavy work when he's healed up. He can do the figures for you. He can add. Aren't, he says, like it. He can only manage like this. Short, simple sentences. Like? You should be ashamed, Morgan says. Cat says, shame was left out when God made my dad. After Cat had finished swabbing him, he lay up for an hour or two. During this time, Walter came to the door with some of his acquaintance, and there was a certain amount of shouting and kicking of doors. The question in his mind now is, what am I going to do? I can't stay in Putney. Partly this is because his memory is coming back for the day before yesterday and the earlier fight, and he thinks there might have been a knife in it somewhere, and whoever it was stuck in, it wasn't him. So was it by him? All this is unclear in his mind. What is clear is his thought about Walter. I've had enough of this. If he gets after me again, I'm going to kill him, and if I kill him, they'll hang me, and if they're going to hang me, I want a better reason. He comes downstairs. Morgan says cheerily, Sample complete. Ready to continue?