Thomas frowned. ‘Why?’
‘I have had my moment of closeness to you, Father. It is well that you should be alone with my mother tonight. I will see you tomorrow, on the wall. Good night.’ Richard nodded with a fond expression and then turned away into the gathering shadows of the street. Thomas stood on the threshold of the small courtyard, tempted to call after him.
‘Thomas?’ Maria’s voice came from the house. ‘Is that you?’
He turned away from the street and closed the gate behind him. He saw her standing in the doorway of the house, outlined by the pale glow of the candlelight in the small entrance hall. Above her the walls of the house rose up to the skeletal remains of the timbers that had supported the roof, before it had been dashed to pieces by a Turkish roundshot. Most of the tiles had crashed through to the floor below and now only one room above the ground floor was habitable. Thomas slipped the bolt across to lock the gate, crossed the courtyard and climbed the steps to take her in his arms and kiss her on the lips.
When they parted she asked, ‘Where’s Richard?’
‘He’s staying at the auberge tonight.’
‘Why?’
‘He wanted to give us the chance to be together.’
‘Why?’ A faint frown creased Maria’s brow. Thomas took her hands and stroked his thumbs across her soft palms. Maria looked hurt for a moment and then nodded. ‘As he wishes. It is a pity as I have prepared a meal to share with my family. I found some salted pork in the cellar, together with some cheese to go with the bread ration. ’
‘A veritable banquet,’ Thomas said lightly.
Maria gave a laugh as she drew him inside and closed the door behind them.
Later that night they lay naked on a couch behind the open wooden lattice of the balcony outside the surviving bedroom and looked up at the sky. The starry heavens were streaked with thin silver shreds of clouds. To the north a dense mass of shadow covered the horizon and steadily edged closer to the island. Despite the change in season the night was not so cold that it discomforted them. Their bodies still radiated warmth from their earlier love-making. Maria lay against his right side, head resting on his chest as she ran her fingers lightly through the hair that covered his stomach.
‘I want, more than anything, to talk about the future,’ she said softly. ‘But I know it is a luxury we cannot afford. Not for a while perhaps. Only when the siege is over.’
Thomas smiled sadly. ‘We should not look to the future, my love. We should not.’
She was silent for a moment and then propped herself up on an elbow. ‘The future is my only comfort, my dear Thomas. There is little but peril in the present and only darkness and despair in the past. There is too much pain there. All we have is this moment.’ Thomas touched her cheek, uncertain whether he should unburden his mind. He had no right to hide the truth from her. ‘Sweet Maria, this night may be our last together. The Turks are coming tomorrow. La Valette thinks that this will be their final attempt to crush us. Every gun and man will be used in the attack. We must meet them on the same terms.’
‘You will be fighting as well?’
‘I must. To defend the Order, Birgu, and most of all you.’
‘Then I shall fight with you.’
Thomas shook his head. ‘You can’t. There is no place for women on the battle line.’
‘Really? Do you think we shall stand idle while the Turks overwhelm you, and then turn their thirst for blood and lust upon us? I can assure you, Thomas, that every woman and child knows what is at stake. We shall do all we can to defeat the enemy.’
‘No. You will stay here, where you are safe.’
‘Safe?’ She laughed bitterly. ‘If the defences are breached then all will die, or be enslaved. I would rather die at your side than wait here to be raped and butchered. I will not have my life end like that. I will choose my own end.’ She pressed her fingertips gently on his lips. ‘That is my final word. You cannot dissuade me.’
‘I would not dare,’ he replied in a mocking tone. ‘No more of that now. Just hold me.’
She lay her head on his chest again and pressed her body against his and Thomas closed his eyes and let his mind dwell on the sensation of warm closeness. Outside, a bank of cloud closed over the island, steadily blotting out the stars. Shortly after the cathedral bell struck midnight, the first drops of rain began to patter on to the ruined town, swelling into a rattling hiss as the downpour passed overhead accompanied by a chilly breeze that blew drips in through the trellis. They rose from the couch and went back to the bed and held each other beneath the warmth of its coverings.
In the hour before dawn the rain had not abated and seemed to be falling harder than ever, accompanied by lightning and thunder. As the bell struck the appointed hour, Thomas lit a candle and rose and dressed, aware that Maria was awake and watching him. When he had buttoned his jerkin he turned his head.
‘Will you help me with my armour?’
She nodded, and reached for her gown as she sat up. She followed him downstairs to the hall where the armour and weapons lay on a chest by the door. Thomas pulled on his breastplate and held it to his chest while she fitted the backplate and fastened the buckles. She helped him with his gauntlets and fastened the mantlets to protect his arms and hands. When she reached for his thigh guards, Thomas shook his head. ‘I cannot wear those over my injuries. It is too painful. Just my helmet now, please.’
She carefully placed the padded cap on his skull and then lifted the morion helmet and eased it down and fastened the chinstrap. ‘There.’
Thomas tested the movement, concentrating hard on not betraying the agony flaring down his left side. He nodded with satisfaction and reached for his sword, slipping the strap across his shoulder. Maria hurried back upstairs and returned shortly afterwards in a boy’s gambison and breeches, her hair tied back. She slipped on a pair of soft boots and laced them up. Lastly, she took a belt and dagger from the weapons still lying on the chest and fastened it about her midriff, then faced Thomas. ‘I am ready.’
The wan glow of the candle flame made her skin look rosy and smooth and he smiled. ‘There is one last thing I would ask of you before we go. There is a letter I have written for Richard. I have left it on the chest by the bed. If anything happens to me, please see that it is given to him.’
Maria nodded.
‘Good.’ Thomas smiled. ‘Then let us go.’
A wagon, its sides reinforced with stout planks of studded wood, acted as the gateway of the hastily constructed inner wall. The wall was built from materials taken from demolished houses and rubble from sections of the wall that had collapsed. It stood no higher than ten feet along its length, curving in at each end to join two battered bastions that still held out against the Turks. A fighting step had been constructed behind the wall and women and children, together with old men, filed out along its length, heads hunched against the rain, and took up their positions under the orders of a handful of soldiers assigned to command this final line of defence. They carried a mixture of light pikes, swords, hatchets and studded clubs, together with baskets filled with rocks to hurl down upon the heads of the Turks should they force their way over what was left of the main wall.
Maria parted from Thomas at the wagon and took up a club before climbing the small ladder on to the fighting step. He passed through the gap. Ladders were ready on the far side, in case the men on the main wall were forced to retreat. Richard was waiting for him on the open ground beyond. Together they climbed on to the stretch of wall where the Grand Master had already taken his position, under the sodden banner of the Order. La Valette stood at the parapet, gloved hands resting on the glistening stonework, staring out towards the Turkish trenches.
Richard glanced up at the sky and blinked away the raindrops. ‘There’ll be no gunfire today. No one can keep their powder dry in this downfall. It will be a fight, man to man. There’ll be no threat to the Turks as they charge the walls.’
‘Not so, young man.’ La Valette turned away from the enemy. ‘It may be too wet for our cannon and arquebuses but not for our crossbows.’
Thomas looked down the length of the wall and noticed in the first hint of daylight that the men who would usually be armed with arquebuses were holding crossbows and carrying quivers at their sides packed with quarrels.
La Valette chuckled. ‘You reminded me of them the other day, Sir Thomas. Stored in the dungeon amid the
