Sword and Scimitar - Scarrow Simon - Страница 45
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‘I wonder what you would do in this situation.’
‘Me?’ Sir Martin looked puzzled. ‘What situation?’
‘I assume you know what it is necessary to know about the guilty past of Sir Thomas?’
Sir Martin glanced sidelong at Thomas but the latter’s expression was fixed and unfathomable.
‘Well now, I have heard a thing or two, yes. But I have known many knights who have sought the comfort of a wench.’
‘The daughter of a Neapolitan noble is hardly a wench,’ Sir Oliver replied coldly. ‘As any decent gentleman would know. The Order is prepared to look the other way when a knight forsakes his vows to take his pleasure of a common slattern, but the despoiling of a woman of noble blood is another matter entirely and is intolerable. A man who did that is without honour and is unfit for the company of the other members of our sacred Order. If I were such a man I could not endure the shame of what I had done. I would quit Malta at once and take myself off into exile for what was left of my pitiful life. The question stands, Sir Martin, what would you do in the place of Sir Thomas?’
The knight shook his head warily and shrugged. ‘It is not for me to say.’
‘But it is,’ Sir Oliver insisted. ‘I am asking you quite directly.’
‘I . . . I . . .’
‘There is no need to ask Sir Martin,’ Thomas interrupted. ‘As a knight whose morals are not in question here, Sir Martin is not answerable to you, or for me. The matter ends there,’ Thomas concluded firmly.
‘Not for my part,’ Sir Oliver replied through clenched teeth. ‘I will not rest until you are exposed for the scoundrel you still are and punished in a fitting manner, or forced to quit this island.’
‘Then you are condemning yourself to exhaustion, for I will not leave. Not until the Order has passed through the hour of its greatest peril or the Grand Master tells me to go.’
‘Which he may, if I can persuade him to see reason.’
‘La Valette sees well enough. The question is, does he see what you really are - a traitor to friends?’
Sir Oliver opened his mouth to reply, then clamped it shut as he struggled to contain his anger. At length he slumped back in his chair and swept his plate to one side dismissively.
‘Very well. You have set your mind to staying. I wish it were not so with all my heart. I shall watch you closely, Sir Thomas, and pray that you find reason to disappoint the Grand Master.’
‘It would be better to pray for salvation from the enemy.’
‘If God wills it, we will be saved.’
‘Then what is the point of prayer?’ asked Thomas. ‘And if I am to disappoint La Valette, then that is a matter for God to resolve, not you.’
For a moment the two knights stared at each other while Sir Martin quietly chewed on a morsel of meat, gazing fixedly at the surface of the table a short distance beyond his plate. Richard sat hunched forward, his jaw resting on his intertwined fingers. He was listening intently but did not dare to look up and risk catching anyone’s eye.
‘One day,’ said Sir Oliver, ‘you will finally reap what you have sown . . .’ He breathed deeply. ‘As I have not been able to persuade you to leave, I come to the purpose of my present visit to the auberge. It appears that Don Garcia offered the Grand Master some advice concerning the manner in which he conducts the defence of Malta.’
‘That’s right.’ Thomas paused and nodded towards Richard. ‘We were there.’
‘Then you will recall that the Grand Master was advised to set up a war council, limited to a handful of men. It seems that you are to be one of this august body,’ Sir Oliver concluded with thinly disguised scorn.
‘Me?’ Thomas raised his eyebrows. It was true that he had served five years in the Order, and several more as a mercenary fighting on the battlefields of Europe. He had also witnessed many sieges, in two of which he had been besieged. But there were bound to be many senior knights of the Order who would take offence at his preferment by the Grand Master. La Valette was taking a risk in offering the appointment. ‘This is something of a surprise.’
‘Quite. Naturally I advised against it. At present he has not told anyone else, in case you declined the offer.’ Sir Oliver leaned forward and stared intently at Thomas. ‘You do not have to accept. In fact, it would be far better if you didn’t. Better for all of us. Your appointment would be a divisive influence on the Order. This is your chance to go some way towards redemption, Thomas. You know that no good can come of it.’
‘I still don’t understand. Why does La Valette want me?’
‘Aside from your considerable martial experience there are two reasons, one of which he explained. It is the Grand Master’s view that the senior ranks of the Order are filled with ambitious men who might seek to use the present emergency to put their interests before the common good. They in turn are supported by factions within the Order. Such men cannot be permitted to indulge their political temptations. Whereas you have no constituency here. You are an outsider and therefore your opinions will not be guided by anything other than the need to defeat the Turks. In addition, as you will be serving alongside the more junior knights, you will be able to inform the Grand Master and the other members of the war council of the concerns and state of morale of the rank and file. That sums up the arguments he gave for choosing you.’
‘That makes sense,’ Thomas responded, then asked, ‘What of the other reason?’
‘It’s simple enough. You always were one of his favourites. A protege. When you were compelled to leave the Order, it greatly disappointed La Valette. It is my belief that he viewed you as a man views his son. And like any father, he was, and no doubt still is, blind to your most significant faults. In the years of your absence he frequently spoke of you with fondness,’ Sir Oliver said bitterly. ‘Now, at precisely the time when he needs sound judgement, he is giving rein to an old man’s sentimental attachment to a prodigal son. It is foolish self-indulgence that speaks to him.’
‘Yet the words he spoke to you are reasonable enough. I think you judge him on his age too severely.’
Sir Oliver pursed his lips. ‘Maybe. But we shall see. The coming conflict will try us all to the utmost. Do you think a man of his years will long endure the demands heaped on his shoulders? And when the burden is too great and he buckles, then perhaps we shall require a new leader.’
‘You perhaps?’
‘Possibly. And if it should be me, then you can be sure that your special status here will come to an end and you will be treated no better than a common soldier. There will be many in the Order who will seek to punish you for your preferment at the whim of the Grand Master.’ He smiled thinly. ‘So what am I to tell him? Do you accept or decline his offer?’
‘I accept.’ There was no doubt in Thomas’s mind about his answer. He was determined to serve his old mentor as well as possible and vindicate the faith La Valette had placed in him. Besides, the position might well help him and Richard locate the prize that Walsingham had sent them here to retrieve.
‘I feared you would say that,’ said Stokely. ‘As ever you are prepared to put personal desires above the needs of others, and above the requirements of duty and honour. So be it. I tried my best to dissuade you and my conscience is clear. I will inform the Grand Master of your decision. That concludes my business here tonight.’ Stokely stood up and bowed his head briefly to Sir Martin. ‘Take care that you do not associate yourself too closely with this man. You may regret it, as others have had cause to.’
He picked up the cape hanging over the back of his chair and strode to the door. He stepped out into the street and a moment later there was the dull thud and clatter of the latch as the door closed.
Sir Martin let out a deep sigh of relief. ‘Thought he was never going to go. The fellow was putting me off my food. Never have found him easy company, even on those few occasions when he has deigned to spend a night in the auberge.’ He looked at Thomas. ‘He doesn’t seem to have much love for you, Sir Thomas.’
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