At the moment of his arrival a deputation of the Honourable Guild of Merchants was leaving the royal presence—the senior alderman with his gold chain of office, the seneschal, chaplain, four echevins, and the usher, attended by the customary number of sergeants. Their faces bore testimony to the performance of a serious yet successful business, for the Guild had received the royal assent to an important charter in consideration of the sum of twenty thousand marks—the loyal contribution of a powerful and wealthy community.
It was King Henry's custom to receive deputations and persons of quality in semi-public state. At the termination of each audience properly accredited personages were permitted to enter the hall where the Sovereign held his levée, and there to await their turn according to the order of the Ceremoniarius.
Thus when Sir Thomas had announced his name and style to the herald he and his attendants found themselves in the royal presence, a barrier of cloth of gold separating the waiting audience from the daïs and a broad intervening space, where the greatest of the nobility and clergy of the realm stood about their Sovereign.
Henry V was now in his twenty-eighth year, and in the full vigour of his life. He was slightly above middle stature, with strongly and handsomely formed limbs. His features were oval in shape, clear-skinned, and surmounted by a thick crop of smooth, dark brown hair. His lips were characteristic of firmness, his indented chin denoted stubbornness, while sagacity and prudence showed themselves in a straight nose and clear, brilliant eyes, though a reddish tinge in the latter gave promise of a stern, almost brutal, temper when provoked to anger.
This was the commanding presence that invited Geoffrey's attention. To those surrounding the daïs he gave slight heed, albeit there were Gloucester and Bedford, the King's brothers, Exeter, his uncle, Salisbury and Warwick, His Grace of Canterbury, the Bishops of Winchester, Exeter, Ely, and Norwich, and a host of the most famous knightly warriors of the realm.
At the moment of the Constable of Portchester's entry a young gentleman of quality was being presented to the King, and, to the great surprise of Geoffrey and Oswald, they heard the name of their chance acquaintance at Botley.
"Olandyne of Ripley, in the County of Surrey. Greeting, Master Olandyne, what is thy pleasure?"
"A boon, sire," exclaimed the suppliant, falling on one knee and kissing the extended hand of the monarch.
"Say on, young sir, though many are the boons that we are asked to confer."
"Sire, I have raised at no small cost a troop of twenty men-at-arms. These I respectfully offer for service in the field." Here Olandyne paused, unable to utter another word.