Page 118 of The King's Man
He thrust her behind him, and moving with his injuries momentarily forgotten, he pushed through the crowd towards Debigné.
If the man had seen him coming he gave no sign. Cromwell stood for a moment, framed in the chapel door. Debigné raised the crossbow to his shoulder and fired. Someone pulled Cromwell back inside the chapel and the bolt missed its mark, crashing harmlessly into the door as it slammed shut.
‘To me!’ Kit yelled, hoping Thurloe’s men were nearby.
For the space of a few breaths, no one moved, and then half a dozen men broke away from the crowd and crashed after Kit.
Debigné, cornered, scrabbled for a second bolt. In the time he took to reload, Kit had reached him. Debigné raised the butt of the crossbow and swung it at Kit. He ducked, but his bad leg betrayed him and the butt crashed into his injured hand. With a sharp cry he went down on his knees, his hand pressed to his chest. Debigné raised the weapon again but by this time Thurloe’s men had him.
In the chaotic moments that followed, as Debigné was led away and the excited crowd buzzed and murmured, Thamsinereached him. Dimly, he sensed her kneeling beside him and she laid her arm across his back.
‘Your hand … ’ she began.
Before he could respond, a shadow fell across them.
‘Good work,’ Thurloe said. ‘I won’t forget it. My coach is waiting. It will take you wherever you have to go.’
Kit raised his head and looked up at his tormentor.
‘Is that it, Thurloe?’ he gasped through the pain.
Thurloe nodded. ‘That’s it, Lovell. Lay low, recover your strength, and we will talk soon.’
Chapter 38
‘It’s no good,’ Nan pronounced. ‘You should never have gone gallivanting around London in your condition. You’ve done yourself no good at all and your hand … ’ she shook her head, ‘ … those fingers will not mend straight now.’
Thamsine swallowed and forced herself to look down at the swollen, mangled mess that had been Kit’s sword hand. Debigné had hit it hard and what little the bonesetter had accomplished had been completely undone.
‘You heard the bonesetter,’ Nan continued. ‘There’s naught he can do. Would be best if it came off afore it turns bad and kills you.’
‘You’re talking about my hand!’ Kit said, his tone a mixture of anger and despair.
‘There’s one person who might be able to help,’ Thamsine said. ‘My sister.’
Kit gave a derisive snort. ‘I don’t think so, Tham. What can she do that the bonesetter can’t?’
‘I know no one else with her skill,’ Thamsine said.
‘We’ll send Jem to her.’ Nan turned to her brother, who lounged in the door of the bedchamber.
‘I don’t know if this is a good idea,’ Jem said slowly.
‘Neither do I,’ Kit agreed. He shivered, hunched his shoulders and closed his eyes.
‘I’m not going to stand by and watch you die!’ Thamsine said.
‘I’m not dying, Thamsine!’ Kit protested irritably. ‘I’ve a few broken bones, that’s all.’
‘You’ll die if that hand is not treated properly! Jane can help. She can be trusted.’
Kit grimaced and waved his good hand. ‘Go, Jem. We’ll have no peace until she’s had her way.’
***
Thamsine met her sister in the kitchen of the inn.
‘I must have your word, Jane. Please don’t tell Roger where I am.’
