Page 72 of By the Sword
Irritation flashed back from his bloodshot eyes. ‘Kate, I do not have time for any lectures from you. We will be gone within the hour but we need a respite. We fought and lost and it has been a long and brutal day. Few of us have had any sleep in twenty-four hours. Give us time to gather our thoughts and make some plans.’ He held the door open for her. ‘Now come and tend to your guests.’
This was an order. The man who stood before her now was not her lover but a soldier giving a command.
He caught her arm as she passed him, and the expression on his face softened. ‘Dear heart, I would not have brought danger to this house if it could be helped but the King has fought bravely today and is weary beyond measure. He is young and afraid.’
She looked up at him. ‘Giles?’
His face creased in pain. ‘I don’t know, Kate. Giles stayed to cover our escape. We can only pray that he is a canny enough soldier to look after himself.’
A suppressed gasp came from the stairwell. Nell, dressed in her nightdress stood in the shadows, her hand over her mouth.She must have heard the last of the exchange. Jonathan took her gently by the shoulders and held her in his arms.
‘Nell, I’m sure Giles will be fine.’
She looked up at him, her eyes full of tears. ‘But you can’t be sure, can you?’
He shook his head and put his arm around her shoulders. ‘Go and find some clothes, Nell. We have a kitchen full of tired, hungry men who need the sight of a pretty face to cheer them.’
She turned back up the stairs to her chamber. Seeing the bloodstained remnants of a scarf tied around Jonathan’s left hand, Kate caught his hand in hers.
‘You’re hurt,’ she said.
He looked down at his hand as if noticing it for the first time. ‘Just a cut, nothing serious,’ he said. ‘Ellen will be able to patch it in a moment. Come, Kate, we have tarried too long.’
At least a dozen red eyes, filthy men slumped on the benches or leaned against the wall in the kitchen. Roused by the noise, the cook and the kitchen scullions already circulated amongst them with cold pie, bread and cheese and ale while Ellen tended the assorted cuts and scratches.
A tall, dark young man, his face already old beyond his years, stood by the fire, staring into its depths. From his clothes and his demeanour and the deference shown to him by his companions, he could only be the King.
Jonathan presented Kate and she sank into a deep curtsey.
‘Mistress Ashley.’ A smile lit the King’s saturnine face as he held out his hand to raise her as if he were at court and she was a fine lady in a beautiful dress, instead of a plain, ordinary housewife in a faded russet gown. ‘I am grateful for your hospitality. Sir Jonathan has been singing your praises since we so unceremoniously departed the fair city of Worcester.’
As Kate looked into his eyes she knew why these men had been so willing to lay down their lives for this man. They were darkand hooded and they compelled her to meet his gaze as if he searched her soul and had heard her terse words only minutes earlier.
Other introductions were made. Buckingham, Derby, Lauderdale, Wilmot–the names all merged among the faces.
As Ellen seemed preoccupied with more serious wounds, Kate sat down with Jonathan and gently unwound the bloodstained cloth. It may not have been serious but it was still an awkward, nasty cut and would take time to heal.
While she dressed it Jonathan bent his head towards the little man who had been introduced as Lord Wilmot. They talked hurriedly in whispers and Kate made no effort to listen in. It was not in her interest to know their plans.
Someone tugged on her sleeve and she turned to see Tom, half-dressed, with his nightshirt, tucked into his breeches and his hair tousled from the bed.
‘Mother, what’s happening? Who are these men?’ Recognising Jonathan, his face lit up. ‘Jonathan!’ Tom looked down at Jonathan’s bandaged hand. ‘Are you hurt again?’
Jonathan laughed and rumpled the boy’s hair. ‘It’s an occupational hazard, Tom. If you’ve finished, Kate, the boy must meet his King.’
Tom bowed deeply and gravely when he was introduced to the young man by the fire. From somewhere the King produced a smile and took off the Order of St George from around his neck.
‘Master Ashley,’ he said, ‘can you find somewhere in your house where this will be safe until I have need of it?’
Tom flushed red to the roots of his hair and he hugged the precious George against his chest. ‘Oh yes, Your Majesty. I’ll keep it quite safe. I promise.’
His wound dressed, Jonathan became the commander again. He ordered the others to divest themselves of their heavyarmour, which they did, leaving a large pile of metal in the middle of the kitchen.
Jonathan turned to Kate. ‘When we are gone, drop all this into the moat and you will never know we have been here.’
***
It was agreed that the rescue party would disperse. The King left with Wilmot and several others for a loyal house to the north. The fewer who knew what plans were made for the King’s escape the better. Even Buckingham begged the King not to tell them.
