The Noble Assassin. Christie Dickason

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ you can ride with me and the children,’ Elizabeth said. ‘We will need you and the castle militia to protect us.’

      Scarcely a year after she had arrived in Prague as the new queen of Bohemia, Elizabeth packed to leave again.

      First, the children. The boys must not become Imperial captives! Thank God the Crown Prince had already been sent to safety in Berlin! Get the others away from here! Look to their needs. Clouts for the coming babe, petticoats, toy soldiers, cups and spoons, coverlets, shoes and boots, bread and wine. Gloves.

      Oh God! She could not think with that thunder in her head.

      Cradle . . . a welcoming gift from her new people less than a year ago, for Rupert her first Bohemian child . . . Too heavy to carry?

      She looked out of a high window as if expecting to see Hapsburg soldiers climbing towards the castle.

      Snow, falling. Great pillows of snow fell onto the thick coverlet that already hid steps and cart tracks. The staircase down to the river looked like a smooth white slope. They would have to take the wagons and carriages the long way round, to the north where the land rose more gradually, towards the advancing enemy, before curving south again.

      Money chest, she thought. Petticoats, riding boots. Fill brass warming pans with charcoal. Likewise the iron heaters for the carriages. Feather mattresses . . . Leave all farthingales behind to save room in the carriages.

      All the time, her ears listened to the gunfire, growing closer.

      ‘Madam . . .! Madam!’ cried frightened voices. ‘Do you want me to take . . .?’

      No time. They must leave now!

      The First Daughter of England, child of the would-be Peacemaker English King, could not become a prisoner-of-war.

      Apart from all else, she thought, my father would never forgive me for forcing him to take a stand. Not after he had advised Frederick to stay at home in Heidelberg and refuse the Bohemian crown.

      ‘Into the second and third carriages,’ she ordered the children’s nurses with their bundles. Where was the castle steward who should be overseeing this rout?

      Food! she thought. And ale. Who was supervising the packing of food and drink for them all?

      How many were they?

      She sat on a packed chest, pulled up her skirts and hauled on her riding boot unassisted. Her ladies were all running with loaded arms. Or had vanished.

      And who can blame them? she thought. She hauled on her other boot.

      How far away was her intended refuge in Bresslau? Too far. The mountains would be impassable in this weather.

      Our departure from Prague is merely a series of problems to be solved, she told herself. But they all needed solving at once. There was no time . . .

      Think!

      Food, she thought again. Don’t let yourself become distracted from the most important things.

      She found the steward in the kitchen courtyard, making a tally of flitches of bacon and smoked hams as they were thrown into carts.

      ‘Where are your clerks?’ she asked.

      He gestured at the mêlée around them and shrugged. ‘I want to be certain, myself . . . Bread already in that cart, madam.’ He pointed, then ran across the courtyard to chivvy along two men who were loading barrels of ale onto another cart. She saw a guardsman carrying a pike.

      The armoury! She ran back to the steward. ‘Weapons,’ she said. ‘We must not leave weapons for the enemy to take.’ He nodded and pointed at bundled pikes and stacked shields waiting to be loaded.

      We must go to Berlin, she decided. A long ride in this weather. But once there, they would find warmth and food and safety, for a time at least. Time to think about their suddenly unthinkable situation. She didn’t entirely believe it, even now.

      Snow was already blanketing the contents of the carts. Churned-up slush washed past the ankles of her boots as she ran back into the castle to oversee her own chests, which were being loaded onto carts in the main courtyard. And her money chest and jewel case, stowed in her carriage at the front of the forming line. And the chest holding state papers.

      Letters!

      She turned to go back to her apartments, but a militiaman blocked her way.

      ‘No time, madam,’ he said. ‘You must leave now!’ The militiaman disappeared again.

      She lifted her head. The cannons had stopped. For a moment, she felt an intense silence, as if the world had stopped turning. Then shouts and gunfire, and the screaming of wounded horses arrived on the wind, far too close.

      Children already in their carriage. Shadowy heads and the heads of their nurses . . .

      Cloak. Gloves. Money pouch tied under her soft riding skirts, over her seven-month bulge of belly. Dagger.

      She clambered up into her carriage. Two women in it already. Her chief lady-in-waiting sat huddled under a bearskin rug with Elizabeth’s jewel case in her arms.

      She helped to wrap Elizabeth in another rug. ‘Put your feet here, my lady.’ Elizabeth lifted her soaked boots onto the iron warming pan of burning charcoal. Melted snow was already making a puddle on the floor of the coach. She lifted back the curtain over the window to watch their departure. In both directions along the line, indistinct figures took shape in the snow then disappeared again, both mounted and on foot. Though the light felt unnaturally bright, she could scarcely see the walls of her adopted home.

      Frederick appeared on his horse, armed for war. ‘I’m giving the order to go forward.’

      She nodded at him through the open square of the window. ‘To Berlin.’

      He leaned close and said quietly, ‘I’m sorry, Lizzie.’ ‘Don’t be a fool,’ she said. ‘We’re having another adventure.’

      ‘Do you think we’ll survive?’

      ‘I shall. And I don’t like the prospect of widowhood, however you imagine you might arrange it.’

      He nodded, then swallowed. ‘If I could face your father to win you, why should I fear the army of the Hapsburg emperor?’

      She smiled more brightly than his sally warranted, to reward him for attempting it at all. They clasped gloved hands through the carriage window. The ends of his dark curly hair were tipped with snow. Flakes were already settling on her skirts.

      ‘I’ll see you safely to Berlin,’ he said. ‘Then I must ride north to try to raise more men. I’ve learned that it was only the mercenaries who deserted, not our local troops. The people of Bohemia will defend us yet.’

      ‘And I will give you all my jewels to pawn to pay them.’ She held up the curtain and watched him dematerialise again as he rode away to the head of the long line.

      Her carriage jolted forward, throwing her back against the seat. Behind her the shouts of the drivers travelled like a wave back along the line of carts and carriages. СКАЧАТЬ