Sword and Scimitar

He shook his head. ‘It need not be that way.’

It was a lie that seared his heart even as he spoke it. That very night he would be joining the doomed men of St Elmo and he would not be coming back. There were scant hours left in which to make his peace with Maria. He should not flame their feelings into a false promise for the future. She was staring at him, waiting. He nodded slowly.

‘Thank you, Thomas.’ She eased herself closer and then reached out and took his hand. The touch of her skin set off a tremor that rippled through his body. ‘Now, let us talk. Without rancour. Without regret. There are things you should know.’

‘I know. Oliver told me about the fate of our child.’

She looked surprised. ‘Fate?’

‘That he died in infancy.’

Maria frowned and a glimmer of anger shone in her eyes. ‘He said that?’

‘Yes.’

‘He said that our son was dead?’

‘Yes.’

‘But he lives. He lives.’ She looked confused. ‘I could not raise him. I was not allowed. For the first years of his life we kept him a secret and Oliver told the Order that my child had died a few days after he was born. We passed him off as the child of one of the serving girls. Then we were betrayed. They were going to take him from me.’

‘Who?’

‘The knights. The Order was going to send the boy somewhere I would never find him. Where he would not bring shame on them. I begged Oliver not to let them. I begged him, and he promised he would find a solution.’

‘What kind of solution?’

‘He sent the boy to England to be raised by one of Oliver’s cousins. That was the last time I saw him. But I have had news of him from time to time. I am told he has grown into a fine young man. Wait here

Maria rose quickly from the seat and walked back into the house. A moment later she returned and sat down and held out her hand. Opening it, she revealed a small locket on a delicate silver chain. She opened the locket with a warm smile and stared at a miniature portrait inside. Then, still smiling, she offered it to Thomas.

‘This was sent to me when he turned sixteen. This is your son. This is our Ricardo.’

With a cold shiver of premonition Thomas took the locket and gazed down at the familiar features it contained. Younger, yes, and the wavy dark locks of hair that he had inherited from his mother were now tamed and neatly trimmed, but there was no mistaking the dark eyes and dark features of the man he had become.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

A day later, every place in the small force to be sent to St Elmo had been filled, and many more men had been turned away. The friar, Robert of Eboli, had insisted on accompanying the men to offer his spiritual support to their fight. The Grand Master concluded his evening meeting and asked for Colonel Mas and Thomas to remain behind. ‘Are you certain about your decision?’ La Valette asked. ‘I am loath to lose two of my best advisers.’ Colonel Mas nodded. ‘It is, as Sir Thomas argued, the only way. It is vital that no one doubts that we all share the same risks, and the same fate, without exception. Save you, sir. You are indispensable. The men of St Elmo are close to breaking point and are beyond the normal codes of obedience and appeals to duty. All they have left is their sense of honour. If Sir Thomas and I return to the fort with fifty volunteers and tell them that you have a thousand more willing to take their place, they will stay the fight to the end. I am sure of it.’

‘When will you leave?’

‘Tomorrow night, sir. Tonight I will sleep deeply. When I rise early on the morrow I will need time to select my men and to put my affairs in order. There are letters I must write.’

The Grand Master stroked his beard, deep in thought. He turned his gaze to Thomas. ‘And you? It is not too late to change your mind.’

‘I will go with the colonel, sir.’

‘Why?’

Thomas did not reply immediately. There was no one simple reason. Or rather there was, and all other reasons led to it. Maria was now the wife of another man, Sir Oliver Stokely, and must have been for many years. She was lost to him, unless he broke every last code of moral behaviour that was left in him. Even then, the situation was hopeless, for she would never agree to be with him. And there was also the matter of his loss of faith, Thomas reflected. It had been a long, painful road to the belief that there was nothing more than this earthly life. To discover that Maria still lived and might feel for him as he did for her had filled the void and given new purpose and meaning to his life. Now that was gone, and if his life held little meaning, perhaps his death could at least serve a noble purpose.

He cleared his throat and met La Valette’s enquiring gaze. ‘Because I choose to.’

‘And what if I choose to order you to remain here? It is a hard thing to sacrifice Colonel Mas alone. Must I lose you too? I need the advice of men I can trust.’

‘At the moment your greater need is men who can set an example, sir,’ Thomas replied. ‘There are other good men in the Order whose advice you can rely on. In the past they may have been rivals, but there is no past now. Every man here has come to accept that we have one common purpose. Our places at your side will be filled by others.’

La Valette smiled sadly. ‘It is true ... I only wish that it had not taken this turn of events for our comrades to realise it. A pity that imminent extinction is the only thing that brings us wholly together in common cause.’

‘Even then . . .’ Colonel Mas cocked an eyebrow. ‘I am sorry, I have been a soldier too long. It tends to harden a man’s cynicism.’ La Valette stared at him and then smiled, and broke into a laugh. Thomas joined him, and even the scarred and battle-hardened Mas gri

The boom of the Turkish ca

‘I thank you, Colonel. You are a good soldier. A good man. I am sorry that I recruited you to our cause. You deserve a better end than this.’

‘There is no need to apologise. I am a mercenary, sir. I go where the fighting is, and in truth, my end is long overdue. Besides, not many of us find such an honourable exit. It’s usually sickness or syphilis that does for us in the end. This is better.’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘Just be sure my contract is paid. I have a wife and children in Barcelona.’

‘I will see to it. You have my word.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Mas stood to attention, bowed his head in a final salute, and turned and strode from the room, leaving Thomas alone with the Grand Master. There was a moment of awkward silence as the older man regarded the English knight. A pained fondness filled his eyes.

‘I count it a great pity to have lost your services for so many years, Thomas. I knew you had potential from the very first day you joined my galley. I had plans for you even then. I have given my life to the Order. I have denied myself a wife, a family.’ His gaze dropped and his voice faltered. ‘When you left, it felt as if I had lost a son . . . When you returned, it warmed my heart, for the first time in a long while. And now?’ He looked at Thomas again. ‘It is not too late to change your mind. I said that I need men like you at my side. I meant it.’

‘Sir, my path is set before me. I will follow it to the end . . . But it does my heart good to know that I have meant something to you.’ He took the hand that La Valette offered him and clasped it firmly for a moment and felt the tremor in the other man’s touch. Then Thomas withdrew his hand. ‘Goodbye, sir. Like the colonel,

I too have affairs that I must setde before I leave.’