The King's Spy (Thomas Hill Trilogy 1) Read Online Free PDF

she returned to her room, lay down and immediately fell asleep.
    Thomas, however, tossed and turned until dawn, when, while the house was still quiet, he went down to the kitchen to speak to the priest. De Pointz, too, was awake, and had stoked the oven fire to a good flame. He sat at the table with a cup of water. ‘Good morning,Master Hill. How did you sleep?’ He was horribly cheerful for such an hour.
    ‘Not at all, thank you, father. And you?’
    ‘The sleep of the just and pious. Have you come to a decision?’
    ‘We have. Although there are two things I hate about this war – the Parliamentarians and the Royalists – it may be that, by being of service to the king, I can contribute to its early end. Or, if not, at least to the saving of lives. And I trust Abraham Fletcher. He knows my views and would not ask me to come unless he thinks I can help. Be sure of one thing, however. I will never take up arms against Englishmen.’
    ‘That is understood. The king knows it.’
    ‘Good. Then, on that understanding, and for Abraham’s sake, I will accompany you to Oxford.’
    The friar picked up his bag and emptied its contents on to the floor. ‘I am much relieved. To have carried these all the way here and then all the way back would have been most tiresome.’ On the floor lay a hooded habit with a black rope for a belt, the same as the friar himself was wearing, a heavy silver cross on a silver chain, a pair of sandals and two small bags. He passed the habit and the sandals to Thomas. ‘As a Franciscan, even in these perilous times, I choose to dress as St Francis did. I find the habit comfortable andconvenient. For the journey, you’d best be a Franciscan too. Oddly enough, two friars might well be safer than one. The poorer we look the better, and Abraham said that you never cared to be told with whom you may or may not consort. God will forgive the deception. If asked, we are travelling to Worcester. Wear this cross, and these,’ he said, handing over the bags, ‘are for you and for your family while you are away. They travelled with us from France and gold is gold. Please take them.’
    When Thomas opened the bags, he saw that they contained a number of gold sovereigns, certainly enough to keep Margaret and the girls fed and clothed for a year or more. He put one bag on the table and the other in his pocket. ‘Thank you. Although I hope I shall not be away for as long as this suggests.’
    ‘I pray not. When will you be ready to leave?’
    ‘We should be away before my nieces are awake. They would be upset to see me go, and that might weaken my resolve. We will breakfast and leave.’
    Within the hour, they had left Romsey and were on the road to Andover. It had been a hot summer and the early-morning sun was already warm, the baked earth made for hard walking, and Thomas took frequent sips from a leather flask of water filled from the rain barrelbehind the shop. The flask, his razor, a set of clean linen, a translation of Michel de Montaigne’s
Essais
and half the sovereigns were all he carried. The other half of the money he had left for Margaret. His habit itched like the devil. When he asked Simon where it had come from, the priest grinned. ‘The owner was a saintly man, if a little reluctant to wash. I did my best to clean his habit when we’d buried him.’
    They walked steadily, between hedgerows adorned with wild flowers – candytuft and cranesbill, mallows and periwinkles – and the oaks and elms that grew so tall all over Hampshire. Although he knew the names of almost none of the local flora, it was a countryside that Thomas loved. At the hamlet of Timsbury, they picked up a horse Simon had left there, and a second for Thomas. Simon produced another bag of sovereigns from which to pay for them. Riding one behind the other, there was little opportunity to talk – a blessing for Thomas, who wanted to be left alone with his thoughts. He tried to rationalize his decision to leave Margaret