Sword and Scimitar - Scarrow Simon (читать книги онлайн бесплатно серию книг txt) 📗
La Valette looked directly at the Spanish commander. ‘And I have your word on this?’
Don Garcia’s expression darkened at this attack on his honour. He bit back on his anger and replied in a flat voice, ‘Better, I will leave my son here with you as a token of my promise.’
‘Your son?’
Don Garcia looked round and called Fadrique forward. He rested his hand on his son’s shoulder. ‘Do you agree to this?’
The young Spaniard could hardly do otherwise but it was clear from his expression that he welcomed the prospect of making his stand before the enemy onslaught.
He cleared his throat. ‘It would be an honour to fight with the knights of the Order of St John, sir.’
‘There.’ Don Garcia turned his attention back to the Grand Master. ‘You can see, I place the highest value on this fortress holding out against the Turks. I invest my own blood in this island, alongside you and your men.’
La Valette nodded and Thomas saw the respect in his expression. ‘Very well. I am certain that your son will do honour to your family. I am pleased to have him fight at my side.’
‘Good.’ Don Garcia regarded his son for a moment and then patted his cheek tenderly before he let his hand drop. ‘Grand Master, there are two other matters I would raise with you before I am done here and must leave. Firstly, you will need a council of advisers to help you plan your defence of the island. I know that the Order has a ruling body, under your command. But it is too large, too unwieldy and too prone to dissent. You must keep your council as small as possible and there must never be any sign of division amongst you. If anything happens to you, then a member of the council must take over at once. Therefore you must choose men whose leadership will be accepted by your soldiers as willingly as they accept yours.’
The Grand Master pursed his lips briefly and nodded. ‘Very well. And what is the other matter?’
Don Garcia turned and pointed across the harbour to the Order’s galleys riding at anchor below the battlements of St Angelo. ‘Your ships will be vulnerable if they remain here. They will not be able to serve you if the Turks lay siege to Malta. It would be better if you were to place them under my command. The Turks have a powerful fleet and I need every galley I can find if I am to confront them.’
‘My galleys are staying here,’ La Valette said firmly.
‘Why?’
‘We need them.’
‘For what purpose? What good are they to you if Malta is besieged?’
‘I need them to guard the supply ships that are bringing food, arms and men in, and evacuating those who wish to leave before the Turks arrive. There are still plenty of corsairs hunting for prey. If you take my galleys you will leave the cargo vessels without protection.’
‘I can provide you with galleys to patrol the seaways for as long as possible.’
‘Why would I need your patrols if I can use my own warships?’
Don Garcia’s eyes narrowed. ‘This would have nothing to do with the fact that the two finest galleys happen to be your personal property, would it?’ He lowered his voice. ‘We must all make sacrifices for the common good. We cannot allow personal interests to stand in the way of reason, Grand Master.’
‘It is with reason that I speak,’ La Valette protested. ‘Without our galleys the Order is powerless. But if you think my argument is partial, then let us seek a more detached opinion.’ The Grand Master turned. ‘What is your opinion, Sir Thomas?’
‘Why ask him?’ objected Don Garcia. ‘He is a member of your Order. His opinion is prejudiced.’
‘He has not served the Order for twenty years and he is not a subject of the King of Spain. His views are those of an outsider. Well, Sir Thomas, what say you?’
Thomas’s mind raced as he considered his reply. Don Garcia’s request made sense, given the immediate threat, but he knew how the Order prized its galleys. If he supported the Spaniard then he risked the enmity of the Grand Master and most of the other knights. It would only result in bitterness and division. Besides, this was a fine chance to win La Valette’s approval. Without that he could not hope to further Richard’s mission or discover more about the fate of Maria. He cleared his throat.
‘Without the galleys the knights cannot take the war to the enemy. The warriors of the Order would be stranded on this rock. Once the siege is lifted, they will continue to wage war against the Turks and their corsair allies. For that the knights must have the galleys. If you take them, what guarantee can you give the Grand Master that they will be returned to us? In any case, what difference will seven galleys make, given the odds? Sir, you are under orders not to risk your ships or your men unnecessarily. In which case, it does not matter if the galleys join your fleet or stay here.’
Don Garcia glared at the Englishman. ‘Is this how you repay my confidences?’
‘I did not know that you spoke in confidence at the time, sir.’ The Spaniard turned his gaze to the Grand Master. ‘So much for detached opinion. Very well, keep your damned galleys. Just promise one thing. If there is any danger that they might fall into enemy hands, you will destroy them. ’
‘I guarantee it. I will burn them down to the keel with my own hand rather than see them taken by the Turks or, worse, those corsair devils.’
‘Then the matter is settled, though I think you have ill served our cause. As for the defences, you have my opinions and I pray that you act on them while there is still time. Now I must return to my command on Sicily. I bid you farewell, and good fortune. Come, gentlemen!’ Don Garcia gestured to his officers to follow him.
As the Spaniards descended the staircase into the tower, La Valette watched until the last had disappeared from sight before he approached Thomas and smiled warmly.
‘I hoped that I could count on you. Only a knight could understand what the galleys mean to the Order.’
Thomas bowed his head. ‘I am your servant, sir, and my loyalty is to the Order, but I pray that my words were wise. Don Garcia may turn out to be right after all and those galleys could tip the balance against the enemy.’
‘Now the decision is made we shall never know, Thomas. Put the matter aside and do not let it burden your thoughts.’ He patted him on the shoulder and then turned to descend the staircase.
Thomas lingered behind for a moment and Richard leaned towards him and muttered, ‘Good work, Sir Thomas. You have La Valette’s trust. We can make good use of that.’
‘If you say so.’ Thomas rested his elbows on the parapet of the tower and stared across the Grand Harbour towards Birgu. All morning he had been trying to avoid thinking about the brief encounter with Sir Oliver the previous evening. Sleep had not come to his troubled mind and for the moment he wanted to thrust aside all thought of the secret purpose behind his presence here. There was a more urgent, more personal, purpose that needed satisfying. Only then could he face the enemy with an untroubled mind.
That night, after the two knights had taken their supper, Jenkins and Richard were tasked with cleaning Thomas’s armour. They carried it through to the hall along with a box containing rags and stoppered pots of polish and wax. Settling on stools by the hearth, they set to work. Jenkins quietly instructed the squire to work the polish on to the surface of the armour then rub it in with a fresh cloth until there was only a faint smear on the metal, after which he used a clean rag to buff it to a shine. Richard worked in silence for a while before he cleared his throat. ‘Jenkins, do you recall a knight by the name of Sir Peter de Launcey?’
‘Of course, sir,’ Jenkins replied as he dabbed some more polish on to the rag that covered his finger, and then rubbed it into the crest of the helmet. ‘It’s not as if there have been many knights joining the Order from England since King Henry took on the Pope. I remember Sir Peter, though he was not with us for long. He joined two years before the King died. Quiet man, and very devout. More so than most of the others. He took his vows seriously. It was a sad day when I heard he had lost his life. He’d only just come back from a voyage to England. Called back for some family affair, as I recall.’ Jenkins shook his head sadly. ‘To have travelled all that way, only to drown here in the harbour. Tragic accident.’
