Roseblood by Paul Doherty

Author:Paul Doherty [Doherty, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Historical, rt, mblsm
ISBN: 9780755395996
Google: BIcdAwAAQBAJ
Amazon: 0755395980
Publisher: Headline Book Publishing
Published: 2014-06-05T04:00:00+00:00

Simon Roseblood

London, May 1455

‘So, we have met before I leave.’ Simon Roseblood gazed around the gleaming oaken table in the Camelot Chamber. All had gathered: Katherine and Raphael, Ignacio and Wormwood, Father Benedict and the most recent arrival, Reginald Bray. ‘Master Clerk,’ Simon pointed at Beaufort’s messenger, ‘you missed the excitement, our visitors from France!’

‘Were you their main quarry?’ Bray retorted.

‘I have spent some time,’ Simon declared, ‘searching for an answer. The galleys made landings along the south coast. They later entered the estuary, attacking communities along the north bank of the Thames. But yes, we seem to have been the principal target for the corsairs. Now everybody chatters as if they are experts on war. They talk about strange lights being seen, fire arrows glimpsed, as if someone, perhaps LeCorbeil, was determined to mark our tavern and the riverside beyond.’ He pulled a face. ‘Such rumours are correct. The corsairs must have sent scouts, spies, and we know LeCorbeil are in London. If they had destroyed us,’ he chose his words carefully, ‘Beaufort would have lost a powerful ally.’ He paused, deep in thought, before continuing. ‘And LeCorbeil, whatever the mystery behind them, would have wreaked a hideous vengeance for what they believe Beaufort did against them in France.’

Simon gestured for the rest to break their fast. He wished to gather his thoughts. He rose and walked to the mullioned glass window, gazing out into the darkness. The French had escaped before the admiral of the coast north of the Thames could muster his fighting cogs. The dead of both sides had been buried in All Hallows. Simon glanced over his shoulder; his companions were now eating and drinking, except for Father Benedict. Simon noticed how pale and drawn the priest looked. Benedict had taken a mace during the attack and shattered a few heads, scrupulous about following canon law, which stipulated that a cleric could not use sword or dagger. Was the parish priest recovering from the attack, or was something else bothering him and his curate, who always looked so agitated? Father Roger was withdrawing more and more into himself, often in his cups.

Simon shifted his gaze. Raphael was deep in conversation with Katherine. Simon whistled under his breath as he recalled Sevigny’s battle madness. A strange man, he mused. Sevigny looked and dressed like a priest, but he was certainly a warrior and also a troubadour deeply smitten by Katherine, as she was by him. Simon grudgingly conceded that he had underestimated Sevigny. He and Ignacio had plotted the mysterious deaths of Candlemas and Cross-Biter, a ploy to baffle Malpas so that he could never lay their deaths at his door. Sevigny had outwitted them. He had concentrated on the possibility of a traitor and spy on the sheriff’s own council, tested his theory and so uncovered Ramler’s scandalous secret, as Roseblood and Ignacio had done so many months ago. Ramler had been surprisingly cooperative, dominated as he conceded by his hidden sins. He had cheerfully agreed to betray his master in return for safe lodgings and protection.

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