past could never be revisited?
‘Thomas . . .’ she said softly.
He half smiled, then caught himself and nodded. ‘Yes.’ Then he smiled again. ‘Yes . . . Maria.’
Her expression was filled with shock and bewilderment. ‘How can it be? How is it possible?’
He wanted to hold her, felt that he should, yet it was so long since they had last touched that it seemed he had forgotten how to and did not dare do the wrong thing and risk a rebuff. But he must say something.
‘I have been recalled. La Valette sent for me. I came back, from England. I had hoped, prayed, to see you again.’
At once there was a frightened look in her eyes, as if she had suddenly discovered herself to be standing on the edge of a precipice. For an instant Thomas dreaded that she was going to recoil from him, turn away and flee. But the expression swiftly faded from her face and she smiled uncertainly.
‘Now you see me.’ She held out her hands.
Thomas glanced at the fingers, still slender as he remembered them but now there were small creases and a slight waxiness to the skin that told of her age. Nonetheless, he took a half pace towards her and took her hands in his, and felt a tremor run through him at the cool softness of her flesh.
‘I was told you had died,’ he said without thought.
‘Dead?’ She laughed. ‘No. Quite alive. For the present. And you? I have often wondered what became of you once you left. I imagined that you had returned to that estate you spoke of. Found yourself a wife perhaps, and had a family.’ She spoke with forced cheerfulness.
‘No wife and no family. But I have my estate at least.’
The stilted conversation was like a dam holding back a deluge of questions, declarations and things that demanded to be said.
‘I thought of you often,’ said Thomas. ‘Every day.’
She smiled, then the smile faded and she released her light hold oil his fingers and let her hands fall back to her sides and shook her head. ‘I tried to forget you. I tried . . .’
‘Sir Thomas!’
The shout instantly drew him back from the seething turmoil of emotions and he turned to see La Cerda hurrying across the courtyard towards them. A servant in a dark tunic with the white Star of the Order on his breast followed at his heels. Thomas was torn between his need to hold on to this fragile link with Maria and his duty. He glanced at her pleadingly.
‘Stay there, just a moment, I beg you.’
Maria nodded and Thomas turned to La Cerda. ‘What is it?’
‘A message from Birgu.’ La Cerda indicated the servant. ‘Speak.’
‘Yes, sir.’ The servant drew a breath as he tried to stand erect and deliver his instructions. ‘The Grand Master sends his compliments and requests that you return to St Angelo at once, sir.’
‘At once?’ Thomas frowned. He glanced anxiously at Maria. ‘But I am not finished here. There is still work to be done.’
‘Sir, the Grand Master demands your presence,’ the servant insisted.
La Cerda could not help a thin smile. ‘You have your orders, Englishman. I think I can take charge of my own command again. I thank you for your assistance. Now, you’d better go.’
Thomas gritted his teeth and then nodded. ‘A moment.’
He turned away and stepped towards Maria. ‘You heard. I have to go. But I must see you again as soon as possible. We need to talk.’
‘Talk?’
‘Of course, there is so much I want to say, so much I want to hear. Say you will speak to me.’
‘Very well.’
Thomas glanced round the courtyard and saw the door to the small chapel. ‘Take shelter in there. I will come and find you as soon as I can. I swear it.’
He took her hand and pressed it tenderly, feeling the tremor in her flesh and the flush of heat in his breast.
‘Sir Thomas, please,’ the servant said. ‘We must go.’
He released her hand and spoke softly so that only she might hear. Twill be back.’
She nodded and turned away, gesturing to her small retinue to accompany her to the chapel. Thomas watched her briefly and a moment later Richard appeared from the entrance to the tower. He stood to one side, a short distance away, and glanced at Maria’s back with a calculating expression.
As the boat crossed the harbour, Thomas willed himself not to turn and look back, as if in the hope of seeing Maria standing at the parapet gazing after him. Despite his stillness, his mind was a chaos of memories and wild hopes. It shocked him that even at his age, with all that he had experienced and the hardened outlook to the world that he had made himself adopt, he was still so easily filled with the wild emotions and unrealistic ambitions of youth. It seemed that the old adage was true: a man only grew older, not wiser.
Beside him Richard also sat in silence, unnaturally still, no doubt marshalling his thoughts at this unexpected turn of events. When the younger man finally spoke, as the boat drew close to the looming mass of St Angelo, Thomas could not help a weary resentment at the inevitable probing into his past, and his heart.
‘Why did Sir Oliver lie about her?’
Thomas shrugged. ‘Revenge perhaps. He knew that I would grieve at the news of her death.’
Richard reflected a moment. ‘The question is, does her presence in any way affect our real purpose in being here?’
‘Why should it?’
‘It has made the situation more complicated for you, and I need your help in getting into the archives. I do not welcome any distractions.’
‘I will hold to my part,’ Thomas replied.
‘Just promise me that you will not be reckless with your life before I have secured what I came for.’
‘That rather depends on the Grand Master. We shall know his will soon enough.’ Thomas turned and pointed out to sea. The white sails and dark hulls of the Turkish fleet were only a few miles off the coast and they had altered course to the south and were sailing slowly past the mouth of the harbour, well beyond the range of any of the cannons mounted on the walls of the Order’s forts. ‘And it depends on them.’
Richard placed the tip of his thumb between his teeth and thought on. The boat rounded the rocks of St Angelo and the oarsman pulled towards the small jetty at the foot of the fort.
‘What do you intend to do about the woman?’
Thomas shook his head. ‘I have no idea. It is hard enough to countenance the fact that she is alive and she is here. I must speak to her and find out what is in her heart. It has been many years, and our parting was not on happy terms. For all I know her affections for me may have dimmed long ago. I can only see her again and discover the truth.’
‘And if the truth is that she still. . . loves you?’
Thomas frowned. ‘I honestly don’t know. If I have been given a chance to put right those wrongs that I have carried on my conscience then I will, with full heart.’
‘And if her affections are no longer yours to have, what then?’ Thomas turned to him with a wry expression. ‘Do you think I would lose the will to live? You forget, I have long since grown used to the idea of merely living. And now I have things to live for. The Order and Maria. I pray that I may save them both and live to enjoy the satisfaction of having done so. Does that put your concerns to rest, Richard?’
‘For now.’ Richard turned his gaze towards the open sea. ‘’Tis a pity that I failed to complete my mission before the trap closed.’ The oarsman backwatered one blade and pulled hard with the other and the small craft turned beam on at the last moment and rubbed gently against the tarred ropes alongside the jetty. The servant sent to fetch Thomas leaped on to the jetty, mooring rope in hand, and tied it securely to a post before helping the knight and his squire ashore. Thomas brushed down the creases in his cloak and gestured to Richard to follow him up the narrow flight of stairs leading up into the fort.
The Grand Master was in his study with several other knights, clustered about the window as they watched the main body of the Turkish fleet inching across the calm sea. The rearguard was still some miles to the north and would not pass the harbour for some hours yet. Thomas indicated to Richard to remain with the handful of squires
