Read Online A Spy for the Redeemer by Candace Robb - Free Book Online Page B

darkness. But he could not see anyone. So he waited. A line of light appeared, widened, illuminated a man with three horses. Two men came from the house, hurried to join him. Without a word to one another, they all mounted and rode off.
    Michaelo crossed himself, hurried towards the door. When he reached it, it was closed. He tried it, found it opened easily. Torchlight welcomed him. He hurried across the hall and up to the chapel, found all the women safely within. And Daimon, breathing, but just barely.
    In a little while, Harold and the menservants came in, all of them sooty, sweating, most of them with minor wounds, all chattering at once.
    Michaelo told them about the horsemen at the rear.
    Harold proposed a search of the woods.
    Lucie agreed that it would help everyone feel more secure, though she doubted the men would have been such fools as to linger.
    She frowned as she turned round to Michaelo, drew him aside. Michaelo smelled the young steward’s blood on her. Her gown and her scarf were stained with it. He hoped she did not wish him to help with Daimon. He was no good as a nurse.
    ‘I saw three men enter the hall,’ Lucie said. ‘But you mentioned only two.’
    ‘You fear one may yet be in the house?’
    ‘Perhaps.’
    Michaelo had not considered that. The three men had not hesitated for another before riding off. Three men. Of course. ‘The one waiting with the horses – he was one of them. He must have slipped out earlier.’
    Lucie did not look convinced. ‘I shall take a few servants and search the house.’
    ‘I shall accompany you.’
    ‘I would have you watch Phillippa. And – when you go on to Bishopthorpe, would you carry a letter to His Grace for me?’
    Now here was a service he would gladly provide. ‘I shall write it for you if you wish.’
    ‘I can write.’ The cold voice of pride.
    ‘So, too, can His Grace. As most men who employ secretaries. But I have a fine hand. It is the only skill in which I excel.’
    Lucie smiled. ‘Forgive me. I thought you doubted my ability. Shall we meet tomorrow morning?’
    ‘I shall have my ink and points at the ready.’ He was most curious what she might have to say to Archbishop Thoresby.
    Michaelo, Phillippa and Tildy remained in the chapel, tending Daimon, while Lucie took a few servants to search the house. The hall door had held up well. Some silver plate had been taken from the hall, and a tapestry – the torn one, which Tildy had rolled up and tucked into the cabinet with the silver plate. Poor Phillippa. First the tear, now this. The thieves must have thought the roll might contain something of value – the tapestry itself might fetch a good price, but for the tear. Lucie went next to the treasury, a small, windowless room within the buttery, where the manor accounts and the money box were kept in a large chest. The door was ajar. She stood very still, listening for any tell-tale sounds. None came. They entered the buttery, then the treasury. The lock had been prised off the chest. The money box was gone, and the accounts, which were usually neatly stacked on a shelf above the chest, were in disarray, as if the thieves had hoped to discover more treasure among them. She would sort them out later. For now, she wished to see the rest of the house. What pricked at the back of her mind as she continued was that the treasury was a room only members of the household would know about. The servants, of course, knew of it because one must go through the buttery to reach the room. But guests of the household would have no knowledge of it, and strangers would have taken a while to find it. The thieves had been in the house a very short time. And the shuttered lantern – they had needed little light to find their way. Which meant they either had a colleague in the household, or one of them (or more) had once lived or worked here. Michaelo had asked whether she feared one of the thieves might yet be in the house. She did. But how might she find that