The Point of Death Read Online Free PDF

tall, hawk-eyed man at his side.
    'By... By... By exercise of logic, your grace,' said Tom, having no expression other than this to describe what he and the Master of Cyphers had achieved.
    'Through logic, then, you are a made man,' said the Earl, turning back after an instant of fierce, whispered conversation. 'You and any that have helped you. For you have saved my army this day.'
    'Though, from the look of you I guess there was as much of bravery as logic,' added the other, his fierce eyes resting on Tom, as sharp as the Italian's steel, his voice easy and carrying, used to interrupting earls and captains general.
    Lord Robert gave a tight smile. 'You're in the right of it, Master Poley,' he said. Then he turned. 'Captain, call the retreat,' he ordered. 'Call it at once, man, for Captain Ive tells me by this that at noon the walls of the citadel come down - and they will land upon the heads of any who still stand beneath them, be they friend or foe. Quick, man, for there is no time left and yet much to do!'
    Ten minutes later, as the English army took to their heels under the jeering insults of the Italian and Spanish defenders, an earthquake shock of buried thunder rolled all along the south-facing wall. As though stone could become sea, the whole outer keep curved over and broke like a tumbling wave. The shock of it cascading on to the vacant mud below made the whole of the battlefield heave as though great breakers were speeding across it to set the tents of the English army dancing like the sails of a fleet at sea. And to make one or two of the English soldiers unsteady on their feet as they turned like the tide out of apparent retreat into a full, full-throated charge.
    ***
    Four men stood amid the rubble that had been the walls of Nijmagen at sunset that evening. They were weary after a day of battle but cheery and laden with spoils. Each of them was also richer by a thousand pounds and, on the promise of Lord Robert himself, free to follow his own desires.
    'What of the girl and her ravisher?' Tom had liberty to enquire at last. But all he got from Talbot was a thin-lipped scowl and a shrug by way of reply. When he asked what the others' plans were, however, Talbot was the first to speak.
    'I will stay with the army,' decided Talbot. 'At the end of this campaign, Bess and I will settle back in London, or home in Winchester. Look for us at the sign of the Boar's Head, the Bishop or the Anchor. A tapster's life for me, that I may each night regale my customers with the story of this day!'
    The Dutchman's name was Ugo Stell. He was a silent sort, but during a day of fierce street-fighting, he and Tom had discovered an ability to read each others' thoughts that came unsettlingly close to witchcraft. They were a deadly team indeed, with the broadsword and wheel-lock pistol. 'I go with the boy,' he said, in thick English, pointing with his chin at Tom.
    'Well I cannot say where I will go,' said Tom.
    'South,' said the Master of Cyphers. 'The Italian left the men who saved his soul at the last all his armour and his sword, his horse, his pack-horse and his saddle-bags - well stocked by all I could discover. And most of all, young Tom, he left you your heart's desire.' Like an actor he rode the moment, until, just the very instant before even Tom himself could ask what was his heart's desire, he said, 'Ridolfo Capo Ferro, of Siena.'
    'What?' demanded Talbot Law. 'Who?' 'Tom knows. It's the name of the man who taught the Italian boy to use a sword. Ridolfo Capo Ferro of Siena. The Master of all Masters of the Science of Defence.'
    'So,' said Tom to Ugo. 'We go south.' But then he turned back to the other. 'And what shall you do?'
    Again that smile which just curled the lips below the dark moustache and folded the skin at the corners of those wise eyes into the finest of wrinkles. 'Home to England. I have a wife and family at home in the country. I have a profession in the city and, with my thousand pounds and my booty, a fine