Wars of the Roses: Bloodline: Book 3 (The Wars of the Roses) Read Online Free Page B

seed crops, leaving them nothing to plant in spring!’
    In his indignation, Derry broke off at the pressure of the queen’s hand on his forearm. He had been watching the boys tumbling in the mud as he spoke, rather than plead with Margaret directly. He turned to her then, seeing both certainty and resignation in her eyes.
    ‘I … cannot pay the men, Derry. That is still true untilwe reach London, and perhaps not even then. They must surely fight again before I will see coins enough to fill their purses, and who knows how that will turn out? While they are not paid, you know they expect to be turned loose, like hunting dogs. They expect to take plunder as they go, in lieu of payment.’
    ‘Is that what Somerset said?’ Derry replied, his voice cold. ‘If he is such a fine master, let him take those dogs by the scruff of their necks …’
    ‘No, Derry. You are my most trusted counsellor, you know it. This one time, you ask too much. I am blinkered, Derry. I see only London ahead and nothing else.’
    ‘You don’t smell the smoke on the air, then, or hear the women screaming?’ Derry asked.
    It was reckless to challenge her in such a way, for all their long association. He saw pink spots appear high on her cheeks, spreading to a flush that stained her skin right to her neck. All the time, she looked into his eyes as if he held the secrets of the world.
    ‘This is a hard winter, Master Brewer – and it goes on. If I have to look away from evil to gain back my husband and my husband’s throne, I will be blind and deaf. And you will be mute.’
    Derry took a long breath.
    ‘My lady, I am growing old. I think, at times, that my work is better suited to a younger man.’
    ‘Derry, please. I did not mean for you to take offence.’
    The spymaster held up his hand.
    ‘And I have not; nor would I leave you without the web I have spent so long weaving. My lady, I am sometimes in great danger in my service. I say it not as a boast, but merely to acknowledge a truth. I meet hard men in darkplaces and I do it every day. If the day comes when I do
not
return, you should know all I have arranged to follow.’
    Margaret watched him with large, dark eyes, fascinated by his discomfort. He stood before her like a nervous boy, his hands twisting together at his waist.
    ‘There is a chance you will be in peril yourself, my lady, if they take me. Another will come to you then, bearing words you will know.’
    ‘What will he look like, this man of yours?’ Margaret whispered.
    ‘I cannot say, my lady. There are three in all. Young and sharp and utterly loyal. One of them will survive the other two and take up the reins if I drop them.’
    ‘You would have them murder one another to stand at my side?’ Margaret asked.
    ‘Of course, my lady. Nothing has value unless it is hard won.’
    ‘Very well. And how will I know to trust your man?’
    Derry smiled at the quickness of her thought.
    ‘A few words, my lady, that mean something to me.’
    He paused, looking through her to the past – and ahead as he imagined his own death. He shook his head, disturbed.
    ‘William de la Pole’s wife Alice still lives, my lady. Her grandfather was perhaps the first man of letters in all England, though I never had the chance to meet old Chaucer. She used a line of his about me, once. When I asked her what she had meant, she said it was an idle thought and I was not to take offence. Yet it stayed with me. She said I was “the smiler with the knife beneath the cloak”. I find it a fair description of my work, my lady.’
    Margaret shivered in turn, rubbing one arm with the other.
    ‘You make my flesh creep with such a line, Derry, but it will be as you say. If one comes to me and says those words, I will listen to him.’ Her eyes glittered, her face hardening. ‘On your
honour
, Derry Brewer. You have earned my trust, though it is not lightly given.’
    Derry bowed his head, remembering the young French girl who had come across the