Sword and Scimitar - Scarrow Simon (читать книги онлайн бесплатно серию книг txt) 📗

Thomas nodded.

‘He was also reckless,’ said Richard. ‘He need not have died if he had kept his mind on the purpose of the ambush, which was to take prisoners.’

Sir Martin lowered his spoon and glowered at the squire. ‘Once again, you forget your place, young man. Such comments dishonour La Riviere. When you have won your spurs then, and only then, may you pass judgement on the knights of the Order. As it is, he died with honour.’

‘I do not dispute that, sir, but the fact is that he need not have died at all.’

Thomas sighed wearily. ‘But in death at least he did us all a great service.’

‘In what regard?’ asked Richard. ‘As Sir Martin has pointed out, we need good soldiers, and now we have lost a knight and the two squires who were killed or taken with him.’

Thomas pushed his bowl aside before he half turned towards Richard.

‘It was La Riviere who had the presence of mind to convince the Turks to attack the strongest section of our defences. Elsewhere the ditches are far less of an obstacle and they are not yet covered by cannon. If the Turks had launched their assault either side of the main gate it is possible that they would have been able to scale the walls. If they had secured a foothold there and then pushed on into Birgu, our cause would already be as good as lost. As it was, the enemy was bloodily repulsed from the section of our defences they believed to be our weakest. The experience has caused them to choose what they believe to be a less formidable target. That is why they are now marching on St Elmo.’

The younger man lowered his gaze and stared down at his hands. ‘I spoke without knowing the full context of his actions, sir.’

‘That is the burden of youth,’ said Sir Martin. ‘You will learn, in time. If we live through this.’

Richard glanced at Thomas. ‘I apologise, sir.’

‘You owe me no apology,’ said Thomas. ‘It is the name of a dead man that you have impugned. It may be that La Riviere’s c ourage and presence of mind has altered the outcome of the siege.

Think on that, Richard, before you race to judgement on any man in future.’ He rose to his feet. ‘I am to bed. I bid you good night, gentlemen.’ He turned to the lower end of the table and bowed his head. ‘And to our guests.’

The Italians looked up as he addressed them and guessed his meaning and bowed their heads in return before turning back to their meal and conversing in low tones.

Thomas made his way to his cell and closed the door behind him. He sat down on his bed and eased off his boots and breeches before lying down and staring up at the ceiling. A thin beam of moonlight entered from the narrow window above his head and cast a ghostly arch of light on the wall opposite. He folded his arms behind his head and yawned. He had not slept for two days. The strain of the previous night’s action and the events of the day had taken their toll and he felt more tired than he had done in many years. He closed his eyes and breathed evenly, yet sleep would not come. Footsteps passed outside his door and then he heard Sir Martin’s voice grumbling about Italians before a nearby door closed with a slam.

His weary mind returned to his brief exchange with Stokely on top of the bastion. What was his role in all of this? Had he really nursed his grievance as a spumed lover for twenty years? Perhaps jealousy was just as capable of thriving on the scraps of memory as was love. Was it jealousy that made Stokely refuse to reveal where Maria was or, as he claimed, Maria’s wish? He must find Maria. Soon.

There was a light knock at the door and for a moment Thomas considered not responding and feigning sleep. But he welcomed a respite from thoughts of Maria. With a muttered curse, he sat up.

‘Come!’

The latch scraped up and the door opened to reveal Richard illuminated by a candle. The sounds of conversation from the hall carried through into the cell, more cheerful and unrestrained now that the Englishmen had left the table.

‘I need to speak to you, Sir Thomas,’ Richard announced.

Jenkins passed behind him on the way to the kitchen to refill the wine jug.

‘Come in, then.’

Richard closed the door and crossed the room. He set the candle down beside the bed and fetched the single chair for himself.

‘If this is about earlier,’ Thomas began, ‘I merely meant to encourage you to think before you pass comment. You are inclined to forget the attitude that is expected of a squire. Even one of the older squires.’

Richard shook his head. ‘It’s not that. I have a more important matter to discuss.’ He glanced back towards the door as if fearful that he might be overheard, and then leaned towards Thomas and continued in an urgent undertone. ‘I went to St Angelo on an errand today while you, La Valette and the others were on the bastion.’

‘What errand?’

‘To see what I could discover about the location of Sir Philip’s chest, of course. I told the sentries that you had left your gauntlets in the Grand Master’s quarters and sent me to fetch them.’

‘Very enterprising of you. Did the sentries let you pass inside?’

‘They did. Your name carries some weight these days. I crossed into St Angelo and feigned a search for the gauntlets under the eyes of La Valette’s steward, then said that you must have been mistaken and left. It was easy enough to continue down through the keep to the storerooms. That is where I encountered the first of the problems facing us.’

‘Indeed?’

‘The Grand Master’s hunting dogs. They have their kennels in an arch lining the same corridor as the storerooms. The entrance to the dungeon is at the far end of the corridor. There is an anteroom to the dungeon and four guards are stationed there. They present a difficulty in their own right but as it was, the dogs began barking the moment I entered the corridor and alerted the guards at once.’

‘What happened?’

‘I told them that I had lost my way. Two of them marched me out of the keep and sent me away.’

‘Let’s hope they don’t report the encounter. If it excited the curiosity of one of La Valette’s staff, it might well make finding that chest somewhat harder.’

‘Harder? It’s nigh on impossible as it stands. Are you certain there is no other way into the dungeon? Another entrance perhaps, or a drain that passes beneath it or close by?’

‘None that I know of.’

Richard frowned. Thomas watched him for a moment and then scratched his chin.

‘Isn’t this all a little without purpose at present?’

‘How so?’

‘We are surrounded by the enemy. There will be no escape from Malta unless the siege is lifted. If the Turks succeed then it hardly matters if you retrieve the document or not.’

‘It matters a great deal,’ Richard replied firmly. ‘If it should fall into the enemy’s hands they would realise its significance at once and have an immensely strong bargaining counter in any dealings with England.’

Thomas smiled wryly. ‘Which enemy? The Turks, the Catholics, or the Order?’

‘All of them, as it happens.’

‘Ah, a pity. For a moment there I hoped that you might have formed some common bond with La Valette and his followers.’

‘Oh, we share a bond all right. Emerging from this trap alive. Until that is achieved, I will do whatever I can to defeat our common foe. But this is not a case of my enemy’s enemy is my friend, Sir Thomas. If we are discovered searching for the document, then I doubt there will be any mercy shown to us once La Valette realises the real purpose of our presence here. The Grand Master has a certain ruthless streak and however much he may value your skills and experience, he will not forgive your deception.’

‘No. I don’t suppose he will,’ Thomas agreed. ‘Forgiveness seems to be in rather short supply at present.’

Richard looked at him sharply. ‘What does that mean?’

‘It is nothing that concerns you.’