The Traitor's Blade, Kevin Sands [fiction novels to read txt] 📗
- Author: Kevin Sands
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“Otherwise: go to the Banqueting House, apprentice. And do your job.”
CHAPTER
16
“WELL?” LORD ASHCOMBE SAID.
I’d spied him coming out of his office. Trailing behind him, Tom was frowning. He looked troubled.
“Lord Walsingham told me to inform you I was acceptable,” I said.
Lord Ashcombe snorted. “Consider that high praise. What did you think?”
“You were right. He’s brilliant.”
He’d been right about the other thing, too: The spymaster was strange. The meeting had left my head spinning. But I think I liked him. I might not be allowed to say the title in public, but I was starting to feel like he’d make a good master.
I showed them our solution to the cipher, and explained what Walsingham had said about my going to the Banqueting House. Lord Ashcombe agreed that made sense. “Keep me apprised of anything you learn. And belt your weapons on again; there’s a murderer about. Unless you’re meeting the king, you stay armed.”
“Will we need a key?”
“To the Banqueting House? It won’t be locked. Nothing is, in the palace.”
“Is that a good idea, my lord?” Tom said.
Lord Ashcombe shook his head, frustrated. “Servants are in and out of rooms all day long,” he pointed out. “Locked doors would grind the palace to a halt. You’d need to leave keys everywhere.”
Which would obviously defeat the purpose. “What should we do if we need to leave Whitehall?” I said.
“Just go. The guards will have instructions to let you pass.” He handed us a coin purse. “For any expenses. And if you need to go far, head to the stables. I’ve ordered a pair of horses to be set aside for you.”
Tom and I exchanged a glance. Our own mounts? How our world had changed!
“You’re in service to the king now,” Lord Ashcombe reminded us. “You have resources. If they help protect His Majesty, I expect you to use them. Just don’t forget: What you do in his name reflects on the Crown. You’ve been given an enormous amount of trust. Don’t betray it.”
“We won’t, my lord,” we promised, and Lord Ashcombe walked away.
Tom and I headed toward our quarters for our weapons—in at least what we thought was the right direction. I wasn’t paying much attention, trying instead to quiet the fluttering in my gut. That enormous weight I’d felt on our way to Paris had returned.
It seemed to weigh on Tom, too. Or maybe it was something else. He’d looked troubled when I’d spotted him with Lord Ashcombe. Now that frown had crept onto his brow again.
“Is everything all right?” I said.
“Hmm?”
“I asked if you’re all right.”
“Yes. Fine.” He seemed surprised.
“What were you two talking about?” I said.
“Who?”
“You and Lord Ashcombe. You were in his office.”
“Oh. Nothing.” He paused. “I mean, training.”
“Training?”
“Yes. You know, while we were staying with the King’s Men, I got to train all the time. Lord Ashcombe asked if I—I mean, I asked Lord Ashcombe—if I could still train with them now that we’re home. I thought maybe even with Sir William Leech. You remember him.”
Of course I remembered him. He was Tom’s first sword master. We’d spent two weeks with him on the road to Paris. “And?”
“And what? Oh—he said maybe. He’d look into it.”
“That would be great,” I said.
“Yeah.” Tom stopped. “I think our room is this way.”
He walked on. I followed him, puzzled, confused, and hurt.
Tom had just lied to me.
CHAPTER
17
I DIDN’T UNDERSTAND IT.
Tom didn’t always approve of the things I did, especially when they involved fire. Sometimes I annoyed him. Rarely, I made him cross. In Paris, he’d been absolutely furious with me for a time.
But he never, ever lied. Not to me. If anything, I wished sometimes he’d keep his feelings to himself.
Yet he’d lied to me, just then. I could tell. It was in his face, the way he hadn’t wanted to look at me while we were speaking.
It wasn’t just the lie, either. Something in his manner made him seem a little sad, though I wasn’t sure what.
At first, I wondered if it was because he missed his family. He’d been so looking forward to seeing his little sisters again, and his spirits had sunk awfully low when he’d learned he wouldn’t. His family had been staying on a boat moored in the center of the Thames to avoid the plague. By now, the death count had fallen, from thousands a week to a mere dozen. But the scare his mother had had when she thought Tom was infected had left her hysterical. According to the last letter she’d sent, she was refusing to let any of her children off the boat until there were absolutely no more cases.
But if it was his sisters he was sad about, he’d tell me. Him keeping a secret couldn’t be good. I wanted to press him on it. And yet, I was afraid to ask. If he’d gone so far as to lie… I didn’t think I’d like the answer.
I followed him silently, wishing I was a little more brave.
Tom found our room eventually. The first thing I did was slip the map of the palace under my apothecary sash; it was clear we needed it. Then we armed ourselves: me with my twin pistols; Tom with Eternity, his Templar sword, strapped to his back. As usual, he wrapped a cloth around the moonstone pommel and gilded hilt to hide its craftsmanship. It was a blade fit for a king, not a commoner.
Bridget ran around the room madly on our return. I picked her up. Normally, this would quiet her, but she fussed in my hands. “What is with you?” I said.
She cooed, which didn’t explain anything. “Restless to be home,” Tom suggested, which is what I’d thought yesterday, but she hadn’t been this agitated last night. I supposed there was no harm in letting her out. When we entered the
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