Cruel As the Grave Read Online Free PDF Page B

riveting."
     
    De Vitry ran his tongue over dry lips. "I... I was seeking to avoid paying the whore."
     
    Luke shook his head in disgust. "So to save yourself a halfpenny, you'd leave a valuable sword behind and risk breaking your neck. I can see this will be a long night. Shall we take him back to the castle, de Quincy?"
     
    "No," Justin said, "not yet." He'd been studying the courier, his eyes taking in the man's dishevelment as he reconstructed those frantic moments in Arlette's chamber. De Vitry had been alerted to danger, hearing them on the stairs. He'd hastily snatched up his tunic and mantle and gone out the window, forced to abandon his chausses, braies, boots, and even his sword. Doubtless he'd have come back for them later, if he'd been able to evade pursuit. "Do you know what I find most puzzling, Luke? His choices. It makes sense to grab for a dagger, especially for one so quick with a blade. He already had the money around his neck. I can see, too, why he'd pull on his runic ere he bolted. A man running mother-naked through the streets would find that hard to explain, after all. But then he took his mantle. Does that seem as odd to you as it does to me?"
     
    De Vitry had stiffened noticeably. Luke also saw where Justin was going with this and he smiled suddenly. "Indeed it does. Our lad here has peculiar priorities. If it were me, I'd have taken enough time to retrieve my sword, mayhap even tossed my boots out the window, too. But he's willing to go out into the night barefooted and bare-assed rather than give up a quite ordinary brown mantle. Are you that susceptible to the cold, de Vitry? Did you forget it was April, not December?"
     
    De Vitry did not react to the deputy's mockery, his eyes focused unblinkingly upon Justin. When the younger man reached for the mantle, he seemed about to resist, then realized the futility of it and slumped back as Justin claimed his prize. Carrying it over to the lantern, he began a thorough inspection, almost at once straightened up with a triumphant smile.
     
    "There is something stitched into the hood." Carefully splitting the seams to reveal a tightly rolled sheet of parchment, he held it up toward the light.
     
    His sudden intake of breath told Luke that it was even worse than he'd expected.
     
    "What is it, de Quincy? Do not keep me in suspense, man!"
     
    Justin slowly lowered the parchment. "According to this letter, a French fleet is assembling at Wissant, making ready to invade England."
     
    That was more than Luke had bargained for, either. "May I see that?" He held out his hand and Justin passed him the letter. "Christ Jesus, John is conniving with the Count of Flanders and the French king, too! You've served the queen well this night, for certes, de Quincy."
     
    "We both have," Justin said, reclaiming the letter to read it again, half hoping that he'd mistaken what was written in John's own hand, for who would trust such an incendiary message to a scribe. "What if this man had gotten through? We had God on our side, Luke," he said soberly, and then spun around when Giles de Vitry laughed.
    "And John has the Devil," he jeered. "I was not the only messenger, you see." He stared at them, his eyes agleam with hatred and bitter triumph. "John sent another man by way of Dover. By now he ought to be well on his way to the French king."
     
     
    3
    WINCHESTER
     
    April 1193
     
     
    Justin awakened with a start. As the furnishings of Aldith's cottage came into familiar focus, so did his memories of the night's events. He and Luke had taken Giles de Vitry to the castle gaol and then returned to the cottage for a few hours of sleep. He'd bedded down on the settle and as soon as he stirred, he winced, for his body was stiff and sore from two days in the saddle. His movement had attracted Jezebel's attention and he hastily flung up his arm to keep the mastiff from joining him. It was not the dog who had awakened him, though. As he sat up, he heard the angry murmur