These Dark Wings Read Online Free PDF Page A

pleased, ‘I guess you two have something in common after all.’
    I have no idea what he is talking about and can only smile weakly.
    ‘Did you know that Yeoman Oakes is right now – maybe this very moment – writing a history of the prisoners in the Tower?’
    He stares down at me expectantly.
    ‘That sounds very interesting, Uncle.’
    ‘Yes, well, I certainly think so. Now, you must go and ask him about the prisoner who disappeared. He can do more than tell you the story. He can show you. Go on, I can finish up here.’
    He scatters the meat in Cora’s cage, tempting her inside.
    What can Yeoman Oakes show me? About a prisoner who disappeared? While I worry again that Uncle is very unwell, he is red and smiling as he ushers me across the Inner Ward to the Guard’s Hall.

    Oakes is not there.
    With a sigh of relief, I dash back towards my room. Even the small chamber filled with spiderwebs seems a blessing. Uncle gave me a hot-water bottle earlier, which might still be warm. The wind finds me in corners, chases me round passageways. By the time I climb up the ramparts, I am beginning to feel like myself again.
    Then I see Oakes.
    He is walking – striding – across the Outer Ward towards Traitors’ Gate. Why? Warders come and go across the bridge at the West Gate. Nobody uses Traitors’ Gate, which is flooded with water and blocked by a spiked gate. Am I imagining it, or does something about him look guilty ? He certainly isn’t writing a history book.
    I stop, peer down at him.
    Oakes doesn’t seem like one of those men who had a bad time of it in the Great War – who had their nerves shattered , like Uncle Richard. Something, though, is definitely wrong with him.
    He passes the Watchman, and after some exchange the Watchman leaves. Oakes looks around, clearly checking to see if anyone has their eye on him, and then steps over the chain fence. His hat disappears as he descends.
    What – into the water?
    I lean over the edge of the ramparts to see. There is no water and Oakes has taken the stone stairs and marched right up to the wide span of the arch.
    A man stands on the other side. I squint to see him. I can make out the chequered pattern of colour through the black bars. A tweed hat, a brown coat.
    Who is he? Why is Oakes having a secret meeting with a man at Traitors’ Gate? I duck behind the turret, my mind racing. Something is wrong. And why is there no water at the gate? I walked past yesterday and there was definitely water. Glinting with coins that tourists had tossed in. And the way Oakes looked around. Who could possibly be on the other side of the gate? The portcullis , Uncle called it, a heavy black gate with spikes. Obviously someone is visiting the Tower in secret.
    To see Oakes?
    I brush aside the stiffening fear. No, I can hear something... a scraping. It is a raven. Just there, not a foot away, sharpening its beak on the battlements. A feeling of shadow falls over my body. Merlin ? Where did he come from?
    Another sound. Human footsteps. I am suddenly frantic. Oh, Merlin, you great menace. I will be caught. It is Oakes, I know it. He is coming up the ramparts. My breath catches.
    He knows. He knows I have seen him.
    A drumming sound of feet on the stairs follows me. Panting, I turn. Too fast, one foot catches the other, and I am lying on the stone.
    A hand falls on my shoulder and I almost scream.
    ‘Careful now,’ comes a voice. ‘Dark enough in these towers, even in the day. Up you come.’
    It is Sparks, the Gaoler. He chuckles, unaware of frightening me half to death.
    ‘Well, how are you, little miss?’
    Although the Gaoler is an important person in the Tower, Sparks acts very kindly to me. He never eats at the Bloody Tower, but once we played cards in the tavern, and he let me win, happily drinking mugs of ale – ‘settling the dust’, he said in his deep Glasgow voice.
    Sparks extends an arm, helps me to my feet. I smile as best as I can. My knee throbs from the fall.
    He