Sword and Scimitar - Scarrow Simon (читать книги онлайн полные версии .TXT) 📗
‘At once?’ Thomas frowned. He glanced anxiously at Maria. ‘But I am not finished here. There is still work to be done.’
‘Sir, the Grand Master demands your presence,’ the servant insisted.
La Cerda could not help a thin smile. ‘You have your orders, Englishman. I think I can take charge of my own command again. I thank you for your assistance. Now, you’d better go.’
Thomas gritted his teeth and then nodded. ‘A moment.’
He turned away and stepped towards Maria. ‘You heard. I have to go. But I must see you again as soon as possible. We need to talk.’
‘Talk?’
‘Of course, there is so much I want to say, so much I want to hear. Say you will speak to me.’
‘Very well.’
Thomas glanced round the courtyard and saw the door to the small chapel. ‘Take shelter in there. I will come and find you as soon as I can. I swear it.’
He took her hand and pressed it tenderly, feeling the tremor in her flesh and the flush of heat in his breast.
‘Sir Thomas, please,’ the servant said. ‘We must go.’
He released her hand and spoke softly so that only she might hear. Twill be back.’
She nodded and turned away, gesturing to her small retinue to accompany her to the chapel. Thomas watched her briefly and a moment later Richard appeared from the entrance to the tower. He stood to one side, a short distance away, and glanced at Maria’s back with a calculating expression.
As the boat crossed the harbour, Thomas willed himself not to turn and look back, as if in the hope of seeing Maria standing at the parapet gazing after him. Despite his stillness, his mind was a chaos of memories and wild hopes. It shocked him that even at his age, with all that he had experienced and the hardened outlook to the world that he had made himself adopt, he was still so easily filled with the wild emotions and unrealistic ambitions of youth. It seemed that the old adage was true: a man only grew older, not wiser.
Beside him Richard also sat in silence, unnaturally still, no doubt marshalling his thoughts at this unexpected turn of events. When the younger man finally spoke, as the boat drew close to the looming mass of St Angelo, Thomas could not help a weary resentment at the inevitable probing into his past, and his heart.
‘Why did Sir Oliver lie about her?’
Thomas shrugged. ‘Revenge perhaps. He knew that I would grieve at the news of her death.’
Richard reflected a moment. ‘The question is, does her presence in any way affect our real purpose in being here?’
‘Why should it?’
‘It has made the situation more complicated for you, and I need your help in getting into the archives. I do not welcome any distractions.’
‘I will hold to my part,’ Thomas replied.
‘Just promise me that you will not be reckless with your life before I have secured what I came for.’
‘That rather depends on the Grand Master. We shall know his will soon enough.’ Thomas turned and pointed out to sea. The white sails and dark hulls of the Turkish fleet were only a few miles off the coast and they had altered course to the south and were sailing slowly past the mouth of the harbour, well beyond the range of any of the cannons mounted on the walls of the Order’s forts. ‘And it depends on them.’
Richard placed the tip of his thumb between his teeth and thought on. The boat rounded the rocks of St Angelo and the oarsman pulled towards the small jetty at the foot of the fort.
‘What do you intend to do about the woman?’
Thomas shook his head. ‘I have no idea. It is hard enough to countenance the fact that she is alive and she is here. I must speak to her and find out what is in her heart. It has been many years, and our parting was not on happy terms. For all I know her affections for me may have dimmed long ago. I can only see her again and discover the truth.’
‘And if the truth is that she still. . . loves you?’
Thomas frowned. ‘I honestly don’t know. If I have been given a chance to put right those wrongs that I have carried on my conscience then I will, with full heart.’
‘And if her affections are no longer yours to have, what then?’ Thomas turned to him with a wry expression. ‘Do you think I would lose the will to live? You forget, I have long since grown used to the idea of merely living. And now I have things to live for. The Order and Maria. I pray that I may save them both and live to enjoy the satisfaction of having done so. Does that put your concerns to rest, Richard?’
‘For now.’ Richard turned his gaze towards the open sea. ‘’Tis a pity that I failed to complete my mission before the trap closed.’ The oarsman backwatered one blade and pulled hard with the other and the small craft turned beam on at the last moment and rubbed gently against the tarred ropes alongside the jetty. The servant sent to fetch Thomas leaped on to the jetty, mooring rope in hand, and tied it securely to a post before helping the knight and his squire ashore. Thomas brushed down the creases in his cloak and gestured to Richard to follow him up the narrow flight of stairs leading up into the fort.
The Grand Master was in his study with several other knights, clustered about the window as they watched the main body of the Turkish fleet inching across the calm sea. The rearguard was still some miles to the north and would not pass the harbour for some hours yet. Thomas indicated to Richard to remain with the handful of squires and servants waiting outside the office.
‘There must be at least three hundred ships,’ Thomas heard one of the knights estimate as he approached.
‘At the very least,’ a taller man replied, whom Thomas recognised as Marshal de Robles, the senior military officer of the Order and one of the men who had been a rival to La Valette before the latter had been elected to the post of Grand Master. Thomas had expected to see Stokely in attendance as well but there was no sign of him.
When La Valette caught sight of Thomas he nodded discreetly and then turned to address them all.
‘The enemy is making for the south of the island. It is clear that they intend to land in Marsaxlokk Bay, or some of the smaller inlets along the adjoining coast. We can’t hope to prevent them gaining the shore but we can try to delay them. Accordingly, I have given the order for Marshal de Robles to take a thousand men and shadow the enemy fleet as it passes along the coast.’ He faced the marshal. ‘You may fall on any attempt to land but you are not to risk a general engagement. Strike quickly, kill as many as you can, and then fall back before they can be reinforced. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, sir. But the men’s blood is up,’ de Robles added. ‘They will want to test themselves against the enemy as soon as they can.’
‘Then it is your duty to restrain them. They will have their chance to prove their valour soon enough. ’
‘Yes, sir. I will keep them firmly in hand.’
‘See that you do.’ La Valette indicated another of his knights, a striking-looking man with shoulder-length blond hair. He looked to be no more than thirty and wore a neatly clipped moustache. He smiled as the Grand Master singled him out.
‘Chevalier La Riviere. You have been tasked with commanding a smaller, separate force of mounted men. It will be your job to ambush and harass the enemy once they have come ashore and the marshal falls back to Birgu. You, too, must take no unnecessary risks. I just want the enemy to think that we have men waiting behind every rock and wall on the island to fall on them and cut their throats. This contest will be as much a battle of nerves as it is .1 c onventional siege, and subterfuge and trickery will have as much a part to play as courage and skill at arms.’ He paused and looked round at his officers. ‘This will be a fight to the death. Outnumbered as we are, the only route to victory is to maintain the will to resist longer than the Turks can maintain the will to conquer. Make no mistake, this struggle will be as bitter, savage and brutal as any in history.’
