devilstone chronicles 01 - devils band Read Free Page B

London’s richest merchants and noblemen lay in the shadow of King Henry’s largest, and strongest, castle. To avoid The Tower of London’s disease ridden dungeons and blood stained scaffold, all he had to do was climb down to one of the luxurious bedchambersbeneath his feet and find some items of silver plate or jewellery he could use to bribe a ship’s captain.
    He would have to be quick as the first light of dawn was in the sky, and the household below would soon be waking, but the roof on which he stood had no skylight or trapdoor. With a growing sense of urgency Thomas searched for a way down and it was with a huge sense of relief that he found tendrils of ivy clawing their way over the eaves at the back of the house. If these shoots were the crown of a sturdy plant, he could use them to clamber down to a window so he crawled to the edge of the roof and tugged on the nearest shoot. The ivy was wet with morning dew but it seemed to have a firm hold of the wall so he lowered himself into the foliage.
    The ivy’s musty smell filled his nostrils, and made him feel slightly nauseous, but ten feet below the roof he found what he was looking for; an arm’s length to the right of his herbaceous ladder was a window with its casement slightly open. The great oak beams supporting the house’s upper storey had been carved into decorative moulding that stood a few inches proud of the white plastered wall so grasping the ivy with one hand, and the window frame with the other, he eased himself along this convenient ledge until he could peer through the leaded glass. When he was sure all was quiet, he eased the window open and clambered over the sill.
    As silently as a jealous thought, Thomas dropped onto the soft rug that covered the polished wooden floor and peered around the richly furnished room. There were tapestries on the wall and an ornate four-poster bed stoodin the centre of the room. The bed’s curtains were closed against drafts and the delicate scent of rosewater filled the air. The gentle fragrance was so different from the filthy stench of East Cheap’s alleys, Thomas immediately felt as intoxicated as Odysseus in the Isle of the Lotus Eaters but he knew he couldn’t stay for more than a few seconds. He forced himself to ignore the heady aroma and glanced around the room for something he could steal.
    The room’s occupant was clearly rich enough to be careless of her jewellery as several thin gold chains had been left on a small table at the side of her bed, where even a blind jackdaw could find them. Smiling at his good fortune, Thomas tiptoed across the room, scooped up the necklaces and put them in the battered leather purse that hung from his belt. All that remained was to leave the house as quickly and as quietly as he could but as he turned to go back to the window, he heard footsteps in the corridor outside the chamber. A moment later a sharp rap on the room’s door and the shrill voice of a servant woman, turned Thomas’ muscles to stone.
    “My Lady, the sun is up, do you wish your fire to be lit? It’s mightily cold this morning,” called the servant and there was a soft murmur from the bed as the sleeper began to wake.
    “No, leave me a while longer,” replied the occupant of the bed sleepily.
    “Very good My Lady,” the servant answered and Thomas heard her faint footsteps pad away down the corridor. He began to sigh with relief but before he couldmake his escape the bed’s silk curtains were thrown open to reveal an astonished young girl.
    She was aged about twenty and should have been married but no husband seemed to share her bed. Her heart shaped face was framed by long auburn hair and she had a thin yet sensual mouth. Her skin was pale, almost translucent, but her dark eyes were almost coal black. By themselves none of her features were beautiful yet together her eyes, lips and hair wove a spell strong enough to ensnare any man. In spite of his peril, Thomas was seized with lust, it had