Sword and Scimitar - Scarrow Simon (читать книги онлайн бесплатно серию книг txt) 📗
Thomas stared at him and lowered his voice. ‘Careful, lad. I will not be spoken to in that manner, least of all in my own home.’
For a moment the messenger glared back at him, brazenly challenging Thomas. But then he saw the cold, ruthless glint in the older man’s eyes and recalled the few words he had heard back in Malta concerning the reputation of Sir Thomas. His gaze wavered and fell back to the worn surface of the kitchen table.
‘Sir, I apologise. It has been a long journey and my mind is weary. I meant no disrespect to you. I only sought to defend the honour of my master . . . and yours.’
Thomas nodded. ‘I understand well enough. It’s good to see that La Valette still has the power to inspire such fierce devotion amongst his men. But why is he so certain that Suleiman is turning his sword on the Order? And why now, when he is poised to strike at Christendom through the Balkans?’ He frowned. ‘I cannot see the sense of an attack on Malta.’
‘It is clear enough, sir. From the beginning of his reign, over forty years ago, Suleiman has claimed the titles “King of Kings” and “Supreme Lord of Europe and Asia”. It has always been his plan to bring every kingdom of Christendom under his sway and impose Islam on all his subjects. Now he grows old and fears that he may die before his ambition is fulfilled.’
Thomas smiled. ‘That is the stuff of fantasy. I have been a soldier long enough to know that such a plan is beyond even the reach of the Sultan.’
‘Fantasy or no, it is his plan, sir. The spies of the Grand Master heard it from Suleiman’s lips. And it begins with Malta, and our Order of knights. We have been a thorn in his side these long years and now he is minded to destroy us.’ The young knight collected his thoughts and continued. ‘The immediate cause of the Sultan’s resolve to take Malta was born from our seizing one of his most prized trading carracks last summer. Commander Romegas took the ship off the coast of Egypt. She was carrying a lady of high rank, and the Sanjak of Alexandria. In the ship’s hold was a vast fortune in silk and precious metals. The value was estimated to be the equivalent of eighty thousands ducats . . .’
Thomas shook his head in wonder that so much treasure could possibly be contained within the wooden confines of even the greatest of ships.
Philippe smiled briefly. ‘Exactly my response, sir. And one can only imagine how the Sultan reacted at the news. The Order has been raiding Suleiman’s commerce for decades. We have been growing ever bolder and now he is determined to crush us.’
‘For revenge?’ Thomas raised an eyebrow. ‘The Suleiman I recall would not let his mind be ruled by his heart.’
‘Nor has he,’ agreed Philippe. ‘It is not for revenge alone that he seeks to add Malta to his empire. Once Malta is his, Sicily will be next. From Sicily he can strike into Italy and seize Rome, the very heart of our faith. Even then his appetite will not be slaked. Not until he has crossed the Alps and killed or enslaved every last Christian.’ Philippe leaned forward again and he tapped a finger on the table. ‘Do you think even this far island is safe from the jaws of his ambition?’
Thomas chuckled. ‘Fine words. I think I can hear the voice of Sir Oliver in them.’
Philippe leaned back with a wry smile. ‘Well, I tried. And you are clearly as wily a fox as they say.’
‘They?’
‘Those brothers who remember you from the time of your service in the Order.’
‘There can’t be that many of them,’ Thomas mused.
‘No.’
‘And those who truly remember me will recall the manner of my departure from the Order.’
‘That is true, sir. But now past grievances must be put aside.’ Thomas wagged a finger at the messenger. ‘Clearly you have little understanding of the depth of feeling that divides the Order’s nationalities. In my day we were at each other’s throats almost as often as we were at the throats of the infidels.’
‘Then I think you will notice that not much has changed when you reach Malta, sir.’
‘Reach Malta?’ Thomas looked up sharply. ‘Do not presume, boy. What makes you think I will come running back to the service of those who exiled me? If they’ve been honest with you, Philippe, then you must know the circumstances of my departure from Malta. ’ Philippe shook his head. ‘I’ve only heard that you were responsible for some scandal. That’s all they will say.’
‘Then they are as tight-lipped and as stiffly righteous as ever. I owe them nothing.’
‘You swore an oath. There is no release from the oath, sir . . . The only release is death.’
Thomas glanced into the shadows in the corner of the kitchen for a moment and then smiled bitterly. ‘It seems that everyone in the Order may be granted release from that oath very soon.’
‘We won’t be alone, sir. The Grand Master has sent for help to every Christian kingdom. If they answer, then we must triumph over the infidel.’
The young man’s simple-minded faith filled Thomas with great sadness. Philippe, and hundreds like him, would go to their deaths clutching such idealistic notions to their hearts like the holy relics they fought and died for. Thomas had hoped that he would never be a part of such foolishness again, and out of compassion for his guest he tried to explain.
‘Tell me, Philippe, since you left Malta to come here, did you not once cross a Christian kingdom locked in some conflict or other with its neighbour? Are you ignorant of the fate suffered by thousands of Catholics in this country? While we Christians are so determined to destroy each other, what chance is there of us joining ranks to resist the infidel? There will be no more crusades. We have
forsaken the true church of God and Suleiman is our punishment. Our judgement.’
Philippe opened his mouth to protest but Thomas raised a hand to silence him, and after a moment continued in a quiet, weary tone. ‘Go back to the Grand Master and tell him I will come. I will not die for those who cast me out. I will not die for the faith. But I will come for reasons of my own.’ He stood up. ‘Now, I’m to bed. My servant will find you quarters for the night. I imagine that you wish to leave for York at first light.’
Philippe nodded, and as Thomas strode towards the door, the young messenger cleared his throat. ‘Sir Thomas. You have my gratitude, and that of our brothers in Malta.’
Thomas paused at the door but he did not turn back. Instead his shoulders sagged and he sighed deeply. ‘Gratitude? I have nothing here to keep me, and I would see Malta one more time before I am done. That is all.’
He left the kitchen and saw John rise stiffly from a bench against the wall of the corridor. Thomas gestured towards the kitchen as he strode past. ‘See to his needs. He intends to leave the hall before I rise on the morrow.’
‘Yes, master.’
Thomas went straight to bed, consumed by a swirling host of memories that the messenger had reawakened. Beneath the covers Hannah had earlier placed a warming pan but even with that comfort, Thomas remained restless and sleep eluded him, chased away by a succession of images and emotions that would not be banished from his mind. At length he gave up and stared at the ceiling of his bedchamber, while a light moaning came from the fireplace as the wind rose outside. The prospect of a return to Malta was bittersweet. That was where he had once been certain that he belonged. That was where he had loved Maria. Perhaps, by some miracle, she lived there still, and nursed the same love that he had over all the years they had been apart. Then he cursed himself for being an old fool and turned on his side and eventually fell asleep.
When he woke, the wind had died down and bright sunlight beamed into his room through a gap in the curtains. The fire in the grate had long since died and the leaded glass on the windows was laced with frost. Thomas rose stiffly and sat on the edge of his bed for a moment, recalling the details of the previous evening. He was convinced of the rightness of his decision. In any case, the messenger would have left by now and would carry his reply back to Malta. It was too late to change his mind. He would need to prepare for war yet again. Grasping that conviction, he dressed himself and made for his study where John would bring him his breakfast the moment he heard the heavy tread of his master’s boots descending the stairs.
