Belaset's Daughter - By Feona J Hamilton Page 0,90
they did not plan to leave by this route. If they did, and the boat was still there, well and good. If not, and it was their only means of exit, they would have to swim for it, and take their chance of getting away safely.
Still it was Hubert who led the little party. He had the most knowledge of the Tower, its buildings and its layout, so he was to be in charge, as they searched for Gregory. Even Benjamin, natural leader though he was, had agreed that this was sensible. He had never been inside the Tower, and knew nothing of the manner in which it functioned. Even Hubert’s scanty knowledge gave them a better chance of safety than someone with no knowledge at all leading them.
They made their way silently up the short flight of stairs, towards a flickering light. At the top, to the surprise of three of them, they were inside a stone passage lit with flambeaux. Hubert crept forward, with the others close on his heels. The passage sloped upwards at a slight angle, until it ended at a sturdy, oak door, studded with iron and with an iron ring as a handle. Hubert drew his knife, and the others followed suit. Cautiously, he turned the handle and pushed gently on the door. The hinges were obviously well-oiled, as it opened without a sound. A breath of air from the other side seeped out, oddly scented.
Standing at the back of the group, Aaron sniffed, trying to place the perfume. Then he realised it was incense. He had smelled the same scent on Gregory sometimes, when he BOSON BOOKS
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had just returned from attending Mass. They were entering some kind of church, or chapel. Puzzled, he followed Hubert and the others, through the doorway. They were indeed in a place of Christian worship. In the light of more torches, set in holders in the walls, they could see an altar, covered with richly embroidered cloth, in front of them. On it stood a cross, made in what looked like solid gold, with two golden candlesticks on either side. In front of the altar was a strip of carpet, with two prie-dieux placed upon it.
There was no time to notice more. The chapel was obviously prepared for use, or why else would there be light? Hubert led them along the side of the room, to where another door had been let into the wall. This one opened equally silently, and, still moving cautiously, they went through it. A spiral staircase rose above them. Aaron realised that they must be inside one of the towers which were part of the new curtain wall that Henry had caused to be built as an additional defence, to protect him and his family from the Londoners outside. He had good cause to know how quickly they could change: the mob who cheered their King into the City one day could just as easily riot and attack the him on the next.
Hubert had led them to yet another door. As he opened this one, he had to pull it inward. Cool night air rushed in they were about to leave the relative safety of the tower, and take their chances outside. Benjamin laid his hand on Hubert’s sleeve.
"Where are we?" he whispered.
"This is St Thomas’s Tower," Hubert whispered back. "I think my master is being kept at the top of the White Tower. We must cross the open ground here, and get into that building somehow, without being seen."
"Is it possible?" said Aaron.
"It has to be," said Hubert, grimly. "There is no other way and once we are inside, we shall have to trust to luck that no-one catches sight of us. We cannot go back you saw that the chapel is ready for use. Someone must be expected within minutes. Let me leave first, then come across one at a time, as you are beckoned. Do not follow on too quickly, one after the other. It will make for too much continuous movement. We do not know how many guards there are, or where they are keeping watch."
The others nodded their agreement. Benjamin held the door open, and Hubert slid through. They saw him run quickly down the stairs outside, then across a patch of open ground, and into the shadow of the looming bulk of the White Tower. Here, he apparently vanished, then they saw his arm, outlined against the white stone, waving at them.