So, as he had suspected, Philippe de Nanterre’s visit was the reason he was here, Thomas thought wryly. For twenty years he had done all that was in his power to avoid attention or attract suspicion and now it was all undone by the young knight and his masters on Malta. His abiding feeling was resentment rather than fear and he returned Cecil’s gaze without flinching as he replied. ‘He came to deliver a letter.’
‘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.’
‘Order is one word for it,’ Thomas countered. ‘Another word would be tyranny.’
‘Either way, our actions prevent a far greater evil, namely that of civil war. Ever since King Henry denied the supremacy of the Church of Rome, our country has been riven by the tensions between Catholic and Protestant. It is a miracle that this has not flared up into open civil conflict. I need not remind you of the horrors that have taken place in the Netherlands and France. John Knott has written extensively about them.’
‘You should not give credence to all that you read in The Book of Martyrs,' said Thomas.
‘Maybe,’ said Cecil. ‘But you will not deny such atrocities took place. After all, you must have seen them with your own eyes when you served there. Even allowing for Knott’s sensationalism there is enough truth in his words to point the way to what might happen here in England if religious differences were to be expressed through violence. The streets of our cities would run with blood. So far that has been prevented because Protestants have largely been united in their opposition to Catholicism. But what if a wedge were to be driven between English nobles and the Queen? Such a division would embolden the Catholics and it would not take long before we were at each other’s throats.’
‘Perhaps,’ Thomas reflected. ‘But what would cause such a division?’ Cecil exchanged a brief glance with Walsingham before he continued. ‘There is a document in the possession of the knights in Malta that, if it were made public, could tear this country apart. The aristocrats would turn on the Queen and the common people would turn on the aristocrats, before they turned on each other. That is what we seek to prevent.’
‘You said it could tear this country apart. Why would it, pray? I find it hard to credit that a simple document might be the cause of such strife as you describe. Besides, what has such a document got to do with me, or the Order?’
‘The contents of the document are known to only a handful of men. It is best that it remains so. Such knowledge is dangerous. I can tell you that it was in the possession of an English knight from the Order some eighteen years ago. He died in Malta before he could carry the document to its ultimate destination. As far as we know, it is still in Malta. It is best for you to know only that the document exists and that it must be retrieved and brought back to me, or destroyed if that is not possible.’
‘What is to stop me reading it if I find it?’
‘There is a seal upon it. I would know if it had been tampered with. However, it will not be your job to find the document we seek. That will be the task of another man. You will take a squire with you to Malta. The man in question will be our agent. Because he will be attached to you, his presence there will not attract attention to him. His mission is to find the document. If either of you survive the coming siege then you are to return to England with the document. In the event that Malta is taken then it will be the duty of the last of the two still alive to destroy the document before it falls into the enemy’s hands. I will not disguise the grave peril attached to this mission, Sir Thomas,’ Cecil concluded. ‘But we are playing for high stakes and you will have the chance to serve your country and your faith and to save many lives. Now, I imagine you may have some questions for us.’
‘Indeed I have, Sir Robert,’ Thomas replied. ‘Firstly, if this document is so important, why has it not been revealed to the world? The Order is answerable to the King of Spain. I cannot believe that Philip would not have used it if it would harm the interests of England, as you claim.’
‘Fairly stated.’ Cecil nodded. ‘We have to assume that the document has not been put to such use because the Order is ignorant of what it has in its possession.’
‘How can that be?’
‘The document left England in the hands of an English knight, Sir Peter de Launcey.’
Thomas frowned. ‘I remember him. A good man.’
‘Indeed he was. A few years after you left Malta, Sir Peter was given leave to visit his family in England when his father was dying. Soon after he returned to Malta he fell from the deck of a galley and drowned. What is not known is that King Henry entrusted him with this document, which Sir Peter was to guard for him. Henry was ill at the time and did not know if he would survive. In the event that he recovered, Sir Peter was to bring the document back to him. If Henry died, which he did, then Sir Peter was to take the document to Rome and present it to the Pope. But Sir Peter died on Malta, and Henry died at almost the same time. A small handful of his closest advisers knew of the document and were only prepared to reveal this under duress.’
‘You mean, under torture.’
‘Yes,’ Cecil admitted freely. ‘And the document remains in Malta, where Sir Peter must have secreted it. You must find it if you can. You, or rather, our agent. Are there further questions, Sir Thomas?’
‘Yes. You seem certain that I will accept your mission. Why should I not refuse?’
‘Because you are a knight, both of this realm and of the Order of St John and that places certain obligations upon you. You are a man of honour, and principle. If you can be instrumental in averting the catastrophe that threatens your country you will seize the chance to do so, unless I have utterly mistaken your character. Furthermore, you are a Catholic, and live at the whim of a Protestant Queen and her ministers, of whom I am the foremost. I need not point out the implications of your situation. Suffice to say that you have my word that I will protect you upon completion of the mission. If you refuse
Thomas shook his head. ‘I do not need to be threatened.’
‘Perhaps not, but it is as well that you know that there is no real choice in the matter. That should be of some small comfort to you in the hard times ahead.’
‘My thanks for your solicitude,’ Thomas responded acidly. ‘I have one more question. Who is this agent of yours, the one who is to be my squire? I presume he is the man waiting in the anteroom. ’ Cecil smiled. ‘Then you have met already. Young Richard is one of the most accomplished men in my service. I put it down to the fact that I took him on as an orphan. He did not know his parents and so he owes his loyalty to me. He shows great promise and this will be the first big test of his skills. He speaks French, Spanish and Italian like a native and has fluency in Maltese.’
‘And yet he is not quite English,’ said Thomas. ‘There is an accent and a certain Latin look about him.’
‘He is as English as you or I, and I have complete faith in him. As must you if you are to see this mission through.’
‘Trust has to be earned, Sir Robert. It is not a commodity to be freely given. ’
‘Then you had better get to know Richard as soon as possible. Sir Francis, fetch him in.’
Walsingham’s eyes flashed with a glint of irritation at his superior’s peremptory manner but he rose swiftly and crossed the room. As Thomas watched, the soft tread and fluid movement reminded him of a cat, an apt demeanour for the man who stalked and killed his prey with no compassion.
When Walsingham had disappeared through the door there was a brief silence until Thomas leaned forward and spoke quietly.
‘I have no need of a squire. It would be better to entrust this matter to me alone. If I give you my word to return the document without reading it then your spy can remain here, out of danger.’ There was an amused look on Cecil’s face as he shook his head. ‘A considerate offer, but while you may have no real need for a squire, my need for a trusted pair of eyes and ears on the spot is very real to me. You must take Richard with you and that is an end to it.’
Before Thomas could reply there came the sound of footsteps and a moment later Walsingham re-entered the room, followed by the young man Thomas had seen earlier. They approached the table and Walsingham resumed his seat while Cecil’s agent stood to one side.
‘Richard, I gather you have already met our guest,’ said Cecil. ‘We only exchanged a few words, master.’
‘Then it is time for a formal introduction. Sir Thomas, I give you Richard Hughes, your squire.’
Thomas rose and walked over to the young man, stopping at arm’s length to look him over thoroughly for the first time. Hughes was tall and broad-shouldered. His doublet fitted him well and there was no unnecessary adornment to the sleeves, no ruff collar, and his hair was neatly cut and free of the oils and pomades that were fashionable amongst young men of a certain social status in London. Thomas approved of that, then looked straight into the man’s eyes. His gaze was met unflinchingly, and yet there was something else there besides boldness, Thomas sensed. A coldness, and a simmering degree of resentment.
‘Whatever the true nature of your orders may be, you are to be my squire first and foremost. Is that understood?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘When I give an order you will obey it without question, just as would be expected of any squire.’
‘Yes, sir. Provided it does not conflict with my instructions from Sir Robert.’
‘I have little idea what your instructions are, but if we are to succeed in convincing the knights of the Order that we are what we purport to be then it must be as second nature for you to do my bidding. I take it you have been instructed in the duties of a squire?’
‘Yes, sir.’
Thomas arched an eyebrow. ‘Really? And when exactly did Sir Robert inform you of your mission?’
The young man’s gaze wavered and he glanced over Thomas’s shoulder towards his master. Cecil nodded. ‘Speak the truth.’
‘Two days ago, sir.’
‘I see. And you have learned all the elements of this new position in that time?’
‘I have been extensively briefed by the squire of the Queen’s champion, sir. The rest I can learn on the road to Malta. If you will instruct me.’
Thomas shook his head and turned to the others. ‘It is folly to use this man.’
‘Nevertheless, you will take him,’ Walsingham replied firmly. ‘You will train him in what he needs to know and do. I grow weary of your truculence. Were you not the only individual with a chance of serving our needs then I would readily pick another. You will go to Malta, with Richard as your squire. The matter is settled.’
Anger flared in Thomas’s heart and for a moment he was tempted to confront Walsingham and refuse the mission, whatever consequences followed. The satisfaction of denying him, and perhaps challenging him to back his arrogance up with his blade was almost too tempting for Thomas.
‘He has agreed to our request,’ Cecil intervened. ‘There is no more to be said. Come now, we are all on the same side. There is no call for ire. All that remains is for Sir Thomas to settle his affairs and arrange for the good management of his estate in his absence. Such is the nature of his mission that he need not spend an undue amount of time preparing whatever baggage he requires for the coming campaign.’
‘How long do I have to prepare?’
‘Two days.’ Sir Francis smiled faintly. ‘There is a Danish galleon loading at Greenwich. She sails for Spain in two days’ time. You and Richard will be on that ship.’
‘Good luck,’ Cecil added, and then, with more feeling, ‘God be with you. .’