Sword and Scimitar - Scarrow Simon (читать книги онлайн полные версии .TXT) 📗
‘What letter?’ Walsingham cut in. ‘Where is it?’
‘At home. In my study.’
‘And what did it say?’
‘The letter was addressed to me, Sir Francis. I do not see why I should share its contents with you.’
‘Really?’ For the first time Walsingham smiled, his thin lips parting to reveal neat but stained teeth. ‘I wonder what you have to hide.’
‘Nothing.’
‘Then tell us.’
Thomas gritted his teeth and felt the first surge of anger ripple through his veins as he stared at Walsingham. The man was perhaps ten years his junior and in the prime of life, but he had lived in London too long and the pallor of his complexion told of lack of fitness and strength. In a fight, Thomas knew that he could break the man into pieces and the mere thought of it fired the taste for violence he had long suppressed. There was the true danger and he forced himself to edge back from the temptation. He closed his eyes for a moment and drew a steady breath. There was nothing to be gained from this confrontation.
‘The letter was from Sir Oliver Stokely, in Malta,’ he began. ‘He has requested that I honour my oath to the Order and return to defend the island against the host that the Turkish Sultan is gathering to hurl upon Malta. That is the substance of it.’
‘Sir Oliver Stokely,’ Cecil mused with a faint smile. ‘A distant cousin of mine, as it happens. We were close as children, until he let his faith lead him astray. More than a little astray in the end, as his presence in Malta eloquently demonstrates. But I digress. I assume your guest required a response from you before continuing with his travels.’
‘He did.’
‘And what did you say?’
‘I accepted.’
Cecil and Walsingham exchanged a brief glance and Thomas thought he sensed their disappointment with his reply. The former returned his gaze to Thomas.
‘Why did you accept?’
‘I swore an oath that is still binding. The Grand Master has summoned me and I must go.’
‘You still consider you are bound by an oath taken so many years ago?’
‘A man is only as good as his word,’ Thomas replied. ‘Even so, it is a long time since I shared the aims and beliefs of the Order.’
‘Then you disagree with defending Christendom from the Turks?’
‘No. I believe in self-defence. I have lived long and seen enough to know that only a fool turns the other cheek. What I wish for is peace between men and their faiths. What has the war with Islam ever given us but bloodshed, sorrow and destruction? Do you know how many years the Order has been waging its war against the enemy? Over five centuries.’ For a brief moment Thomas sensed the terrible burden of such a length of time devoted to unremitting hatred and violence. Generation upon generation steeped in the gore of innocents. He shook his head slowly. ‘I would rather the struggle came to an end and there was peace between Christendom and the Sultan.’
‘Peace with the Sultan?’ Walsingham laughed harshly. ‘Did you ever hear of such a thing?’
Thomas looked at him. ‘If I have to kill again then it will not be in the name of religion.’
‘Yet you were happy to become a mercenary and to kill for money for many years,’ Walsingham sneered, and was about to speak again when his superior raised a hand to stop him.
Cecil folded his hands together and regarded Thomas thoughtfully. ‘It is an admirable sentiment, Sir Thomas, truly. In a better world than this I would share your convictions. However, the world is filled with sinners going about their mischief and we must do what we can to obstruct them. The Sultan is one such man who must be stopped. Your former comrade, Sir Oliver, was correct to write that your Order is in peril on Malta. We have heard the same from our own sources.’
Thomas’s eyes narrowed. ‘Pardon me, Sir Robert, but how would you know what Sir Oliver wrote to me?’
‘Ah.’ A pained look crossed Cecil’s face. ‘I had hoped to return this to you a bit later on.’ He fished a hand into his robe and extracted a folded piece of paper with a familiar broken seal, and slid it across the table towards Thomas. He stared at the letter in frank surprise.
‘How did you get this?’
‘Do you imagine that we would permit a foreign soldier free passage across England without ensuring that his every movement was observed?’
‘You had him followed to my house?’
‘Of course.’
Then it struck Thomas. ‘But this letter was in my study this morning. I placed it there, in my desk. I am certain of it.’
‘Yes, you did. But one of my agents called at your house after you had left. He managed to persuade a servant to relate all that had passed and it was a simple matter to search your study. The letter was found and brought to me as swiftly as possible. Sir Francis and I were able to read it a good two hours before you arrived.’
‘Did your man harm any of my servants in order to get your information?’ Thomas asked quietly.
‘He didn’t have to.’ Cecil smiled. ‘Your servants are Catholics, like yourself. It was a simple matter to remind them of the fate that befalls those accused of heresy, and a somewhat lower standard of proof is required to charge a servant than a man of status like yourself, Sir Thomas.’
‘Although that can be arranged,’ Walsingham added darkly.
‘Sir Francis, if you please, there’s no need to threaten our guest.’ Cecil turned back to Thomas. ‘There, the letter is your property. Please take it. I regret that we had to read it, but in my position I have to guard against any potential threat to Her Majesty. You must understand that.’
‘I understand perfectly,’ Thomas replied as he retrieved the letter, holding it by the tips of his fingers as if it had been sullied. ‘There is no base behaviour or abuse of common law that you will not use to bend people to your will.’
Cecil shrugged easily. ‘I do what I must.’
‘And was it necessary to steal this letter? Why ask me about the purpose of Sir Philippe’s mission if you knew all this from reading the message?’
‘We had to know that you were telling the truth. We had to know if you were hiding anything from us. As it is you have passed the test.’
‘How gratifying,’ Thomas replied sourly. ‘Then I think it is time for you to explain this task which you mentioned earlier. Although you should know that I will not help you to persecute my fellow Catholics here in England.’
‘I would hardly expect a man of your integrity to do that, Sir Thomas. Well then, let us get down to brass tacks. As you know, the Turks are preparing to strike a blow against one of the cornerstones of Christian influence in the Mediterranean. If they take Malta, Sicily will be next. Then Italy and Rome itself. If Rome falls then it will be as if the death knell of our faith, Protestant as well as Catholic, has sounded. Suleiman has made no secret of his aim to be master of the known world and impose Islam on all his subjects. He has chosen a good time to unleash his forces against us. Europe is divided by war and religious faction. Spain and France are snapping at each other’s throats and the great fleet that Venice might have sent against the Turks has been decommissioned following the cowardly alliance they signed with Suleiman to safeguard their interests. So you see, your brothers in the Order can expect little help from outside in their stand against the Turks. Only Spain has promised to send what aid she can.’ Cecil paused to lend his next words emphasis. ‘If you agree to return to Malta you will be in the vanguard of the fight to save Europe from the infidel. Save Malta and save us all.’
Thomas could not resist a cynical smile. ‘So you have called me here to ask me to join the fight against Islam.’
‘That, and for one other purpose.’ Cecil sat back and wagged a finger at Walsingham. ‘You explain, Sir Francis.’
The other man collected his thoughts before he addressed Thomas. ‘Since you have elected to return to Malta you will have a chance to serve England’s interests in a more direct fashion. Earlier, you upbraided Sir Robert and myself over the measures we are obliged to pursue in order to preserve order in England.’
