Page 113 of The King's Man
‘The men, black and white, are treated like animals, and those who don’t die of the maltreatment die of disease. Thurloe gave me a choice. If I agreed to his proposal Daniel would be well treated. If I did not, then he worked the fields as one of the slaves. He was right. The boy would be dead within a year. What choice did I have?’
He looked away. Thamsine placed her hand over his and said nothing.
With his face still turned from her, he said, ‘Daniel has spent two years on that pestilential island.’
Thamsine’s mouth went dry and she swallowed. ‘Do you know if he is still alive?’
‘Thurloe says he is, and I would rather live with that hope than see England plunged into civil war again.’ He looked at Thamsine, his face creased with a pain that was not physical. ‘It was all Thurloe needed to secure my co-operation. It came to a simple choice between my brother’s life or an indefinite life inprison. It was no choice, Thamsine. If I refused, both Daniel and I would be dead. My answer was a given. I took the coward’s choice.’
Thamsine shook her head. ‘Kit, any man would have done what you did. Why do you think it was a coward’s choice?’
He looked at her. ‘You’re not a man, Thamsine. You don’t understand the concept of honour. There is no honour in betraying my friends and comrades, no matter how good the personal cause may be. Thurloe offered me freedom, and at that nadir of my life that was all I craved, whatever the cost. Daniel was not given that choice.’
She stared at him for a long moment, trying to make sense of what he had just told her. This misguided concept ofhonourhad killed her brother and changed her life forever.
‘You’re right, I don’t understand “honour”,’ she said, fighting the bitterness in her voice. ‘How would your death in prison have helped your brother?’
He gave what passed for a shrug and grimaced. ‘It was a Devil’s bargain, Thamsine. I’ve kept my word and mercifully now it is nearly done. Daniel will be freed and once he is safely returned to England, you and I shall leave this cursed island and go wherever our hearts take us.’ He shifted uncomfortably, grimacing. ‘I want to be free of England, Thamsine.’
‘I have lands in Virginia.’
Kit’s eyes gleamed. ‘Virginia. That would be a new start for us both.’
He took her hand in his good one, his thumb circling the palm. ‘Do you think, for a moment, we can let ourselves believe that there will be a future without John Thurloe or Ambrose Morton?’
‘I think we have to believe that, Kit,’ she replied. She laid a hand on his battered cheek. ‘I only know that whatever that future is, it has to be together.’
His fingers tightened on hers and he lifted her hand to his lips. Beneath the bruising he looked pale and pinched, his eyes lost in dark circles. Thamsine kissed him gently and stood up.
‘You’re exhausted,’ she said. ‘I promised Nan I would help in the taproom tonight. May is … ’ She left the sentence unfinished.
May had not left her bed. She lay under the covers, curled up like a child, too exhausted to cry and too traumatised to move.
‘I’ll bring you some supper and then you can sleep.’
***
Thamsine had promised to help Jem in the taproom, but there were few customers and as soon as she had a chance, she warmed some broth to take upstairs to Kit. She had not expected to find him standing in the middle of the room, a blanket inadequately draped around him. In her haste to get to him, she slopped soup onto the tray.
‘What are you doing?’ She reached him as his knees buckled and he sat back on the bed.
‘I was looking for my clothes,’ he said.
His hair, tangled and still matted with his blood, stood on end. His bruised face was taut and grey with pain and his eyes glittered with fever.
‘Why do you want your clothes?’
‘I have to warn them,’ he said.
Thamsine knew he meant the conspirators, who even now were gathering at the Swan.
‘Kit, you’re too late. You know that.’
‘Maybe not. If I hurry – ’
‘You couldn’t hurry if the hounds of Hell were after you.’ She sat down beside him on the bed and took his good hand in hers. ‘It’s too late for a conscience now, Kit,’ she said.
He turned to look at her. ‘They’ll hang, Thamsine.’
