Page 127 of By the Sword
‘Only my life.’ Jonathan coughed again.
‘Do sit down, Thornton. Your health is obviously of some concern. Had I known you were ill I would have–’
‘Done what? Absolutely nothing, Thurloe. Be honest. It makes little difference to you whether I live or die.’ Jonathan subsided onto the cot. ‘No doubt there are plenty of others within these walls willing to take your offer.’
The act of talking was straining his physical reserves. What had his uncle said? He had to play for time. ‘What is to prevent me from taking your offer of freedom and then withdrawing my co-operation once I was beyond your reach?’
Thurloe’s eyes narrowed. ‘My reach is long, Colonel. I already have agents in the exiled court. Information can be easily verified, and if you are found to be playing me false…accidents can be arranged.’
Jonathan rose to his feet again and paced the short distance to the opposite wall before turning to face the Secretary of State.
‘Master Thurloe, I’d not be lying if I said that in my present circumstances, your offer is not extremely tempting but’– he paused for breath–’in this world, I serve two masters, the lawfulKing of England and my conscience. I can’t be loyal to both if I have sold my soul to you.’
Thurloe turned to face him. ‘I take no offence at the analogy, Colonel Thornton. Indeed it’s refreshing that, despite your present condition, you still feel that way. There are others, as you rightly observe, who would not be quite so obstinate. I think you are a fool, so think about it. The offer remains open. A simple yes, and in a few days, a comfortable bed in Paris and money in your purse–’ He crossed to the door and banged loudly. ‘Turnkey.’
‘And if I do not change my mind?’ Jonathan asked, leaning against the damp, mildewed wall.
Thurloe turned to look at him once more. ‘You will be dead within a week or so, with no intervention from me. Good day to you, Thornton.’
Jonathan slid down the wall as the door slammed shut.
‘Damn you, Thurloe. Damn you to hell,’ he shouted at the impervious oaken door and solid stone walls.
His only hope now rested with Nathaniel Freeman.
Chapter 45
‘Ihave found him, Kate,’ Nathaniel Freeman said as he laid his hat and gloves down on the table.
Kate stared up at him, the words coming out in a desperate rush. ‘Where is he?’
‘In the Tower. As we feared he was taken prisoner just as he was to board a boat for the continent.’
‘Six months. He has been a prisoner six months and no word? Why–’
‘Circumstances prevented him,’ the lawyer replied.
‘Circumstances? What circumstances?’
‘He quite simply did not have the ability to send a message.’
‘Oh really, Nathaniel.’ Henrietta put in. ‘Turnkeys are notorious for lining their pockets. It surely would not have taken much to get a message to you?’
The lawyer’s mouth set in a hard line. ‘He could not.’
Kate regarded the lawyer, sensing the evasion in his eyes and fought down the impulse to question him further. There would be time later to hear the whole tale.
‘Can I see him?’ Kate asked.
Nathaniel withdrew a paper from his jacket. ‘Better than that, Kate. I have an order releasing him into house arrest, into my custody.’
‘How…?’ Kate asked, scarcely able to breathe.
Nathaniel shook his head. ‘Let’s just say I had words with Master Thurloe. I persuaded him that we had not fought a war to see innocent men die in prison without a fair trial.’
‘And he just agreed to let him go?’
‘I threatened to go to Cromwell. I like to think our new Lord Protector has some compassion and I am certain if he knew how Thurloe was using his power, he would be less than pleased.’
