The Traitor's Blade by Kevin Sands (fiction books to read .TXT) 📕

I opened it, and we all read it together.

D.—

Your plan has worked. The enemy and their agent were deceived. The man in black informed me secretly that the threat inside the palace has forced the oath breaker out. He will be taken tonight by carriage to Hampton Court.

Tell F. to camp his men at the bend by the river, hidden in Barnham Wood; it’s the best site for an ambush. All must answer the call—there will be a score in the escort, at least. God willing, we shall finally hold the oath breaker to account. The Lord our righteousness!

—N.

My guts twisted.

Tom was confused. “What is all this?”

Your plan worked, the letter said.

“The oath breaker,” I said, voice quavering, “is the king. The threat inside the palace… the murders… the poison… The whole point of them was to force His Majesty to leave Whitehall.

“And the Covenanters… they’re waiting. There’s going to be an ambush.”

Your plan worked.

For every scene was scripted.

The Covenanters had planned this all along. Their enemy—the Knights Templar—and their agent… that was me. We’d been used.

I’d been used.

And now the king was riding to his death.

What had I done?

CHAPTER

45

I BOLTED FROM THE ROOM.

Tom and Sally shouted after me. “Christopher! Wait!”

I couldn’t wait. This was my fault. My fault.

I rushed from the west wing, sprinted across the tiltyard. Into the street—

“LOOK OUT!”

The hackney driver pulled hard on the reins. His horses squealed, carriage wheels juddering in the dirt. I heard the axle crack, and the carriage lurched sideways, nearly throwing the driver from his seat.

“You stupid—!” A string of curses followed, enough to strip paint from walls. I didn’t stop.

My fault.

Down the street, into Scotland Yard. The stables.

“Blossom!” I called. “Blossom!”

She neighed in response. Her head poked from her stall, ears pricked forward, alert. I reached for the latch—

And then a man tackled me from behind.

My head jerked, slamming into the man’s shoulder. I fell, the weight of him on top of me, landing facedown in the dirt. I’d been reaching out when I was tackled, and a good thing, too, because if he’d pinned my arms to my chest, I wouldn’t have had my hands to break the fall.

As it was, the ground was soft, muddied by a light rain earlier in the day. I got a bit of wind knocked out, but it didn’t feel like anything was broken.

I tried to wriggle out from underneath. A forearm smashed my face back into the mud. I tasted earth and grit.

Above me, Blossom snorted in fear. The stall rattled as a hoof smashed into it.

“Got you now,” a voice growled in my ear.

My mind, shaken from the fall, shaken even more by the Scotsman’s letter, was confused. For a moment, I thought Tom had tackled me to stop me running away. But of course Tom wouldn’t hurt me—

The groom. He lay on top of me, pressing down with cruel delight. He leaned in and whispered gleefully in my ear. “Little thief. I can kill you now. It’s my right.”

He never got the chance. One second, I was pinned in the mud, the next, I was rising, dragged up by his arms. Then, suddenly, he let go, and I was facedown in the dirt again.

The groom yelled in alarm. I rolled over just in time to see what happened.

Tom had arrived. He’d pulled the man off me—literally picked him up. He lifted the groom overhead. Then he slammed him to the ground like a bale of hay.

A knife flew from the groom’s hands, skittered through the mud. He really was going to kill me, I thought, dazed. Why does he hate me so—?

And then I understood.

“Hold him,” I croaked to Tom.

Tom looked at me, confused. “Why was he—?”

“Hold him!”

The groom, stunned and clumsy, tried to rise. Tom grabbed the man’s arms, twisted them back, and mashed him face-first into the earth.

“Let me go!” the groom shouted.

Sally reached us. She covered her mouth in shock, then hurried to help me up. “What happened?”

I spat dirt from my teeth. “He’s one of them.”

“I am not!” the groom’s voice carried across the yard. “I’m loyal to the king!”

Tom’s throw must have rattled the man’s brain. Or maybe he just wasn’t that bright to begin with. Either way, he’d made a mistake.

“If you’re not one of them,” I said, “then how do you know what I’m talking about?”

The man sputtered, then stopped. Tom held him fast. There was little point in keeping up the pretense now.

He sneered at me. “You’re too late, unfaithful. Your heretic king dies tonight. The Lord our righteousness!”

The Lord our righteousness. The same as in the letter.

The Covenanters’ battle cry.

“What do we do with him?” Tom said.

I rose, stiffly, and unlatched the door to Blossom’s stall. She stomped out nervously. I patted her neck, trying to calm her, while reaching for the saddle hanging inside.

“Take him to the guard and have him locked up as a Covenanter,” I said. Sally helped me strap on my saddle. “Then follow me as soon as you can.”

“Follow you?” Tom said. “You can’t go alone. Just wait for me!”

“I can’t! I can’t wait! They’re going to ambush the king! I have to warn him! Just don’t let him go. There’s no telling what problems he’ll cause.”

“What can I do?” Sally said.

“Grab all the guards the palace can spare. Have them follow us.”

But there was a problem.

“The guards have already gone,” she said, “with Lord Ashcombe and the king. There’ll only be a few left.”

I cursed. No matter how many soldiers were with Charles, if they walked into an ambush…

Suddenly it came to me. “Berkshire House!”

“What about it?”

“The party,” I said. “Lord Walsingham said he’d make it look as if the king was coming. There’ll be soldiers all over the grounds.”

Sally was already running. “Send them after us, quick as they can!” I shouted as I climbed into the saddle.

Tom dragged the groom through the dirt. “Just wait one minute!” he called to me.

I couldn’t. There was no time.

I