A Skin of a Dragon (The Guild of Gatekeepers Book 1) by Frances Jones

Author:Frances Jones [Jones, Frances]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-03-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 39

Afternoon was spent, and dusk was gathering as we made our way through the narrow streets of Truro. I led Ralph by his reins, and we kept our heads down, fearful of drawing attention to ourselves, but our tattered and weather-stained cloaks already had us marked as travellers and strangers to the town.

As we walked, I noticed a man a little further ahead turn and look back at us before disappearing beneath an archway between two houses.

'Tom! Eliza!' came a whispered voice from the shadows as we passed it a moment later.

I stopped and peered into the darkness that was closing around us. There were no lanterns or candles in the windows to light our way.

'Who's there?' I said.

'Prince Rupert,' replied the voice. 'Follow me.'

A hand appeared from the darkness, beckoning us to follow, and a second later a lantern was uncovered, illuminating a small courtyard where two horses were stabled beneath a lean-to. Immediately, Rupert took the reins and led Ralph to a manger of fresh hay beside the other horses. Eliza and I followed him through a doorway to the side of the courtyard and up a steep flight of stairs to a single door which opened onto a dimly-lit room.

It was plainly furnished with a few chairs arranged around a table and a rickety-looking bed in the corner. The hearth was empty, and a draught whistled through cracks in the walls which almost extinguished the candles above the mantelpiece.

'Do you have it?' Rupert asked, shutting and locking the door behind us. His eyes glowed in the lamp-light with an avaricious look, and there was something in the gruffness of his speech and the wildness of his appearance that made me uneasy. He did not look like a prince at all, even one who had been on the run.

‘Have what?’ I asked.

‘The precious burden, the prize that the old wizard has promised Cromwell,’ Rupert replied.

'Yes, we have it,' I replied slowly.

Rupert took a firm step towards me. 'Show me,' he said.

'I think it is best left hidden for now,' I replied, taking a step back towards the hearth.

'I would like to see it,' insisted Rupert.

'Why?' I asked. My voice was firm, but inside I was alarmed and wondering desperately how we might extricate ourselves from the situation. My eyes flicked to the window, but it was too small to climb through, and with a three storey drop, it was a hopeless plan.

'I have told you to show me,' replied Rupert angrily, no longer attempting to conceal his frustration. His hand moved to a knife tucked into his belt. I grabbed one of the iron candlesticks from the mantelpiece and hurled it at him, striking him in the forehead before he had chance to draw his weapon. He cursed and held his hands to his bleeding head. At the same moment, there was a mighty crash, and the door burst open. An immensely tall man with a musket slung across his shoulder stepped into the room. In one hand, he held a handkerchief.

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