Читать онлайн «King's Gold»
Автор Майкл Джекс
Michael Jecks
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
CHAPTER FIFTY
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
Michael Jecks
King's Gold
CHAPTER ONE
Matteo di Bardi hurried up the lane. His bodyguard, Dolwyn, was beside him; two more men behind — all anxious. At times they broke into a brisk trot, for it was impossible to saunter along when the city was in flames. Matteo must get to the meeting.
The smell of charred embers was everywhere. He had heard that the houses of the Bishop of Exeter were all aflame, that the homes of other bishops were besieged or broken open, that men of prestige and authority were lying slain in the streets. It was lunacy!
The third, and youngest brother of the House of Bardi, Matteo could have had a magnificent career in Florence, but the lure of the court of King Edward II had tempted him to join Manuele and Benedetto. He was shrewd and well-informed: with these talents, he reckoned he must soon rise in the family’s bank. Instead, he was witness to the destruction of the kingdom’s greatest city.
Ahead lay Langburnestrate4, the great road that led from Garscherch Street to St Mary Woolchurch, and he knew that when he reached it, he must head west along it for a few yards before turning north.
Usually Langburnestrate was full of vendors hoping to snare some fool into buying their maggoty pies and mouldy bread, but not today. The street was deserted. This eerie silence, Matteo knew, was the brief calm before the ‘rifflers’ arrived and began to torch, rape and murder.
There was nothing those barbarians would not sink to. Truly, the only cure for them was to put them to the sword or hang the bastards.Matteo di Bardi was a small man, with thin, pallid features on which his black beard and dark, dilated eyes stood out like those on a fever patient. However, Matteo was not unwell: his was the pallor of the scriptorium. He spent his days assessing, calculating and carefully researching. And in his purse now he had the results of his labours.
There was more smoke. He could practically
