The King of Thieves: Read Online Free PDF

seal. There was nothing remaining of Isabella’s
     regal position, in truth. It was utterly humiliating.
    With the pittance her husband had allowed for this journey, there was little for any form of extravagance. That was why she
     was forced to leave Paris and find cheaper accommodation elsewhere. Soon, perhaps, she would be forced into returning to her
     husband. There was no alternative, when all was said and done. At least for now she was only to move a little outside the
     city, to the Château du Bois.
    Meanwhile, there were compensations. Life here in France was far less austere than her existence had been in recent months.
     Although she could not afford distractions of her own,there were many invitations from others, to parties, hunts, diversions of all kinds.
    All she hoped was that the truce should hold a little longer, and that the negotiations should continue. Here she felt free
     once more.
    She would not return to England to be insulted and slighted, to be gaoled in a gilded cage.

Chapter Two
    Louvre, Paris
    Arnaud, the porter at the south gate to the castle, heard the cries before the messenger appeared, panting and anxious.
    ‘What is it, man?’ he demanded. He was seated on a bench behind his makeshift desk, booted feet up on it, his back resting
     against the wall behind him. Without a candle, the servant could only see a low blur in the gloomy room after the bright sunshine
     outside.
    ‘A man came to speak with the Cardinal d’Anjou, and he’s been murdered.’
    Arnaud closed his eyes and shook his head, then said, ‘Go and find the guard, tell him to see to the body, and then fetch
     the city’s prosecutor. The Procureur should be present as the matter is investigated. He will take charge.
Go!
’
    But when the boy had fled from him, Arnaud suddenly gaped with a distracted air. ‘Which man has been murdered?’ Then, with
     a stern expression on his face, he slapped the pommel of his sword in a gesture of decision, called to one of his officers
     and left the gate in his hands while he himself strode off towards the hall to visit the castellan, Sieur Hugues de Toulouse.
    The Louvre had a magnificent hall, as befitted the King of France, and the castellan’s little room was attached to the eastern
     end. It was a small square chamber, with a large table and a stool, and a bed area behind. A fireplace and chimneyhad been added, and a cheery fire hissed and spluttered, making the porter jealous when he thought of his own chilly and comfortless
     little room.
    Today, though, when he entered, the castellan was busy. A slim, dark-haired beauty was sitting astride him as he lay on the
     bed behind the desk, and she turned and met Arnaud’s appraising gaze with a tilt of her head. He smiled at her. He’d seen
     her earlier when she had entered the castle. You didn’t forget a face and body like hers.
    ‘You want something? Eh? Hurry up!’
    ‘Sieur Hugues, I …’
    ‘You waiting for a formal introduction? This is Amélie. Amélie, this is Arnaud, the porter. Arnaud is the man who should be
     guarding our gate, but instead he’s here in my chamber staring at your bubbies.’
    The castellan’s words and tone proved that he had no desire to discuss matters at the moment, and Arnaud quietly stepped from
     the room and closed the door.
    He would have to come and see him later, when the castellan was less ‘busy’.
    Procureur Jean de Poissy eyed the messenger without comment for a moment, chewing a hunk of bread with some hard cheese. A
     tall man, with a long face surprisingly unmarked by scars for a knight who had spent so much of his life fighting in his King’s
     causes, he was elegant and urbane. Unlike many warriors, he was also intelligent.
    ‘Who is the dead man?’ he asked.
    ‘I don’t know. He didn’t give his name.’
    ‘Who killed him?’
    ‘I don’t know!’
    ‘Why was he killed?’
    ‘I …’
    ‘… don’t know. No, nor do I, but these are the questions we must ask,