The mood in the auberge that evening was subdued. Jenkins served them a simple barley gruel, explaining that there was no longer any fresh meat to be had in the markets of Birgu. In order to save feed the Grand Master had given instructions for all livestock to be slaughtered and salted and stored in the warehouses by the dock. Only a small number of horses were to be given fodder from now on. With the arrival of a large number of refugees in Birgu, new billets for the soldiers had to be found and so a dozen Italian mercenaries had been assigned to the English auberge and these now joined Thomas, Richard and Sir Martin at the long table in the hall. With the arrival of the mercenaries Jenkins’s labours had increased considerably and he treated the Italians with ill-disguised disdain and resentment.
As the men supped they were quiet and reflective and conversation was mainly limited to requests to pass the bread platter, the salt or the jug of watered wine. The mercenaries kept to the end of the table nearest the door and left the three Englishmen to the end nearest the fireplace.
‘Where is Sir Oliver?’ asked Richard. ‘He said he would be accommodated at the auberge once the Turks landed.’
Sir Martin shrugged. ‘He has money enough to rent his own quarters. And a sufficiendy inflated sense of his own worth not to have to share accommodation with his brother knights.’
Thomas stirred his gruel. ‘Do you have any idea where he might have taken up residence?’
‘No,’ Sir Martin answered and they continued eating.
‘ ’Twas a great pity about La Riviere,’ Sir Martin said at length. ‘He was a good soldier. Never balked at the chance to take the fight to the Turk. One man we could ill afford to lose.’
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.’
‘Of course it concerns me. I need your help to carry out my mission. I can’t afford for you to be distracted. Is it to do with that woman, Maria?’
Thomas was silent for a moment. ‘You know it is.’
‘Then you had better be careful. She must not be allowed to interfere with our plans.’
Thomas felt a chill enter his heart. ‘Is that a threat of some kind?’
‘No, I merely meant to remind you of your duty to your country, and your Queen. Keep that in mind.’
Thomas eased himself forward until his face was close to that of his squire. ‘Understand this, Richard. If you ever harm Maria, or act in any way to endanger her, I will kill you.’
Richard stared at him. ‘You would kill me to save her? Really?’ Their eyes locked briefly before Thomas slumped back, dispirited. The passion in his heart felt real enough, but Richard’s iron resolve to fulfil his mission and duty made his own feelings seem distastefully self-indulgent and his threat empty and ridiculous.
‘What would you do in my situation?’ he asked.
‘I can’t imagine.’
‘Then I pity you.’
‘Save your pity,’ Richard hissed. ‘Your imagined bond with this woman is a weakness. What do you think you can achieve? Tell me. What are your plans? What could you offer her?’
‘A chance to put right the wrong that was done to both of us. Perhaps if we live through this we might yet be joined, as we should have been all along. My plan is to ask her to be my wife and then I would take her home to England where we could grow old in peace.’ Richard shook his head. ‘There is no fool like an old fool. And any fool can see that you are presuming upon a degree of affection and forgiveness in this lady that borders on fantasy. You must see that.’
‘I see what is in my heart.’
‘And it blinds you to all else. Right now, it is my most fervent wish that I could carry out Walsingham’s orders by myself but I cannot. You must help me.’
‘Must I?’ Thomas settled back against the stone wall before he continued. ‘If I help you see your mission through then I expect help from you in turn.’
Richard’s eyes narrowed. ‘And what is it that you want me to help you with, exactly?’
‘For now, I need to know where Maria is. The civilians evacuated from St Elmo were brought here. She has to be somewhere here in Birgu.’
‘I have no doubt. It is common knowledge that many of your brother knights have mistresses, and some have even married in secret and live as husband and wife in their homes and estates on the island. Hypocrites!’ Richard sneered. ‘Like all those whom the Church of Rome holds up as models of rectitude. Hypocrites, all of them.’ He raised a clenched fist and his voice was strained with bitter emotion. ‘By God, if it was ever in my power I would wipe them all from the face of the earth
‘Them?’ Thomas’s brow creased. ‘Do you speak as a Christian, or a Muslim? For it is impossible for me to tell the difference.’ Richard lowered his fist and opened his fingers. ‘I beg your pardon,’ he muttered. ‘I am very tired. I forgot myself.’
Both men were silent. Thomas stared at his companion with frank curiosity. ‘What has been done to you that you should hate these people so terribly?’
‘Nothing. . It’s nothing. I lost my temper for an instant. That is all.’
‘It is far from all. You revealed your heart for an instant, and I saw a darkness and a rage in you that I had never suspected. Richard, what is it? What torments your soul so badly?’
‘Suffice to say that I have no reason to love those who serve the Church of Rome,’ Richard replied coldly. ‘I am born of Catholics, who abandoned me when I was young. Mine was a hard upbringing, and I knew little kindness until Sir Robert took me into his service before I joined Walsingham’s agents. It was Cecil who taught me that Catholicism is a vile corruption of Christianity and I have dedicated my life to destroying it in England, and wherever it may be found.’ He was breathing quickly and it was a while before the rage that burned in him had died down enough for him to talk in a controlled manner.
‘If you help me, Sir Thomas, then I shall help you. We will find that letter, and your Maria, and we will take both from this island and return to England, if that is your wish.’
‘It is, and I fervently hope that it is hers as well.’
Richard nodded. ‘Then we have an agreement. As good as any that is signed in blood.’ He offered his hand and Thomas took it.
‘I hope your Maria is worth it,’ Richard said with a thin smile.