Simon Scarrow - Sword and Scimitar

‘Because I know it, I feel it, in here!’ She clasped a hand to her breast. ‘It is as real to me as my own flesh and the blood that courses through it.’

Thomas looked at her and saw the gleam of conviction in her expression. For an instant the tortured landscape that stretched out all around St Angelo receded and only the small space that surrounded the two of them existed.

‘What more do you want from me?’ asked Maria. ‘What more can I say? Is it that you doubt your feelings for me?’

‘Never,’ Thomas replied instantly. ‘It is just that I have changed. I am a ruined man and I would not have one grain of pity in any affection you bear towards me. Nor would I have you accept me now and then live to regret it in what time is left to us.’

Maria’s expression became cold. ‘You think me a fickle heart, Thomas. It is a cruel charge to lay at the door of one who has thought so fondly of you across so many years.’

‘Not so fondly that you refused to be married to another man.’ It was a cruel jibe and Thomas regretted his words the moment he had uttered them.

‘What would you have had me do? Starve to death in the gutter? Lock myself away in a nunnery for the rest of my life? I had no reason to believe that you would ever return for me, and you never did. You came when your master whistled for you and not before.’ Thomas frowned at her depiction of his obedience to La Valette, and he felt the weight of his guilt as he considered her accusation. A gust of wind blew a strand of hair across Maria’s face and she brushed it away irritably as the first drops of rain fell. Thomas took her hand and led her towards the shelter of a sentry post, a small domed chamber with a narrow slit overlooking the harbour. The rain began to fall in earnest. There was little room in the post, with only a small stone shelf for the sentries to sit for a brief rest. Thomas found that he had to stand close to Maria, so that their arms were touching as they stared out at the rain. Then he felt her flesh tremble and turned to see that she was crying. He felt a pang of guilty pain and reached a hand up to gently wipe a tear from her cheek.

‘Don’t cry.’

She glared at him, her lips quivering. ‘Why not? You would break my heart and tell me not to grieve over it?’

Thomas shook his head. ‘I did not mean

Then he leaned forward and kissed her. It was clumsily done and she instinctively recoiled. Then she quickly reached up and grasped his shoulders and pulled him towards her and kissed him back. Her eyes were open for a moment, then closed as she pressed herself against him, her lips softly bound to his in a warm caress that sent shivers of ecstasy rippling through his body. A flash of lightning lit up the walls of St Angelo and a moment later thunder rolled through the sombre grey clouds and ended with a dramatic clap that caused them both to start. Their faces drew apart and they stared into each other’s eyes before Thomas laughed nervously.

‘What?’ She frowned suspiciously. ‘What amuses you?’

‘Nothing . . . Only that I am such a fool. Such an old fool.’ Thomas leaned forward and kissed her again. ‘There is so little time left to us and I am squandering it like a callow youth.’

The rain continued to fall for more than an hour, splashing off the flagstones in a steady hiss, interrupted from time to time by bursts of lightning and thunder that drowned out the sound of the Turkish guns. For the first time in months the air was cool and the wind that accompanied the storm had a chilly edge that caused them both to shiver as they embraced. They remained close as they sat on the sentry’s hard seat and talked in soft tones about the years that had passed since they had been parted, and of the time before that, when they had been together. Any lingering strangeness between them soon faded and Thomas was content as he rested his cheek on the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair. At length the wind began to die away and the downpour subsided into a drizzle before the dark clouds parted and the sun shone on the remaining roof tiles and walls of the ruined town. Maria raised her head and sniffed gently.

‘What is it?’ asked Thomas.

‘The smell of war has gone. Just for now.’

Thomas smiled. She was right. The constant smell of burning, powder smoke and corrupting bodies had disappeared. He filled his lungs with the untainted air and felt as if a ray of hope had pierced the brooding gloom of the landscape.

A soldier emerged at the top of the staircase from the fort. He glanced round at the world briefly washed clean and smiled faintly to himself Then he caught sight of them in the sentry’s shelter and hurried across the slick flagstones towards them.

He stopped outside the entrance and bowed his head. ‘Sir Thomas Barrett?’

‘Yes?’

‘The Grand Master sent me to find you. He desires that you attend him now that you have recovered sufficiently to resume your duties.’

‘Recovered?’ Thomas cocked an eyebrow.

‘What madness is this?’ Maria demanded. ‘Can you not see that Sir Thomas is badly injured? He needs rest and time to recover.’ The soldier looked at her. ‘Every man is required to defend Birgu, my lady. That includes the walking wounded. From now on, if they can walk then they’re not wounded.’

Maria opened her mouth to protest but Thomas held up his fingers to touch her lips gently. ‘I will go willingly to battle. I have everything to fight for now.’ He turned to the soldier. ‘Where is the Grand Master?’

‘His forward command post, sir.’

Thomas gestured towards the dressings on his left arm. ‘I have been out of the fight for a while. I am not familiar with the latest position.’

The soldier nodded. ‘The Grand Master and his staff are at the merchants’ guildhouse on the main square, sir. I’m returning there now. I can show you the way.’

‘Thank you.’

Thomas felt Maria grasp his hand tightly and when he looked round he saw that her face was filled with anguish. ‘Stay here, Thomas. Stay with me. Please ... I beg you.’

He gently squeezed her hand and then pulled himself free and smiled. ‘I will come back and find you as soon as I can.’

The soldier turned away and made for the head of the staircase. Thomas followed, forcing himself not to turn his head and look back.

The two men left the scarred walls of St Angelo and made their way through Birgu. There seemed to be hardly a building left undamaged. Heaps of bricks, plaster and tiles lay everywhere, and the charred remains of buildings showed where the Turkish bombardment had caused fires. Occasionally there was a deep whine of a shot passing overhead and the crash and clatter of debris as it struck home. Some effort was being taken to keep the centre of the streets clear of rubble to permit passage, but lately the scale of destruction had overwhelmed the defenders. Several times Thomas and the soldier were obliged to clamber over heaps of bricks and shattered timbers.

Thomas was surprised to see that many people were prepared to brave the dangers of the streets and were busy searching through the remains of collapsed buildings, pausing only to look up at the sound of an incoming cannonball and hunch down behind the nearest cover until the danger had passed. Gaunt faces watched them warily as they went by.

‘Scavengers,’ said the soldier. ‘They’re looking for food, and valuables. The Grand Master has issued an edict forbidding looting, but there are too few soldiers left to enforce it. Besides, the people arc on the edge of starvation and the edict means little to them.’

‘Starvation?’

The soldier nodded. ‘The rations were cut again three days ago. They’re on a quarter of what they were given at the start of the siege. If it goes on much longer then the poor bastards will start dropping dead where they stand.’