Murdering the Messenger by Michael Jecks

Author:Michael Jecks [Jecks, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-07-02T16:00:00+00:00

FIVE

Wednesday 31st March

The next day was as different from the day before as it possibly could be.

When I opened my eyes, it was to the gleam of sunshine spearing through the window, lancing down at my face. I luxuriated to feel her warm kiss. When I paid attention, I was aware of the merry chirping of the birds outside. A pigeon cooed loudly, closely followed by a loud rattle as some scallywag loosed a pebble at it from a sling, the stone bouncing off my tiled roof. I wondered whether the little miscreant had hit his target, or whether the pigeon had survived to coo another day, but that was of little interest, in truth.

Nay, I stretched in my bed, feeling the comfortable glow of satisfaction. I had bested fate. Although my life had been in danger, and John Blount and Lady Elizabeth might well have sought to remove me from their service, and from life itself, my ingenuity and diligence had produced this wonderful result. The flight of the priest was proof of his guilt, and left me secure.

Even after the pints of wine last evening, my mind was clear and untroubled with headaches or nausea. Instead I felt as refreshed as a man who had slept the sleep of pure innocence. I felt, in short, like a fellow who has achieved a great quest and returned to general acclaim and reward. It put me in mind of the tales of King Arthur and his round table. Then, knights who left the court to undertake missions for the king for truth and honour, were often rewarded on their return by the affectionate ministrations of their lovers. It made me think, lying there in my bed, that it could only be improved, were Susan Appleby there to join me in a little early morning wrestling. I decided I would have to visit her house again and see whether we could arrange a bout or two.

But first, of course, I must go and visit my master. It was essential to let him know the good news before any unpleasant instructions could arrive giving him the command to remove one assassin and replace him with another.

I dressed slowly, and when I had my jack on, I looked at my weapons. It would be good to say that I felt no need to walk the streets armed, but in truth, I was still more than a little wary after my experience with Pudge. I tied my pistol belt about my midriff, thrust the gun home into its holster in the small of my back, hung my ballock knife from its sheath, pulled my baldric over my head and settled the sword in the scabbard, and then over all I donned the powder horn and shot wallet. The purse with silver coins lay on my shelf, and I took this up and thrust it into my shirt once more.

Thus encumbered, I made my way downstairs.

My airy and cheerful demeanour seemed only to confuse Cecily,

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