Doctor Who_ The Roundheads - Mark Gatiss [82]
‘We th-thank you, gentlemen for your most efficacious rescue of our person from Hurst Castle.’ He glanced about with his sad brown eyes. ‘And, though our present circumstances are not the most pleasant we have ever encountered, the air of freedom is no less sweet.’
Copper and Whyte bowed again and then the older man moved forward. ‘If I may make so bold, Your Majesty?’
Charles inclined his head once more. ‘Speak, Sir John.’
Copper shot a quick look at Whyte and then pressed on. ‘I must urge Your Majesty to fly from the city at once. It can only be a matter of time before we are discovered.’
Charles nodded, ‘Do you not think, though, that it would be far more risky for me to attempt to l-leave when the exits from London will all be guarded?’
Copper shrugged. ‘Nevertheless, sir, it is a chance we must take.’
Charles did not respond and Whyte stepped forward. ‘May I remind His Majesty that we did not rescue him from his confinement only for the Roundheads to recapture him and cut off his head!’
Charles looked Whyte up and down. ‘You are very bold, sir,’ he said at last.
Whyte bowed. ‘Forgive me, sir, but I feel I must be. The situation is critical. We are confident that we can get you away to France and from there to a place where your security will be assured. Then we can set about invigorating the Royalist movement here. If they know their King is safe, they will surely rally once more to our cause.’
Charles looked down at his shoes. ‘Your sentiments are very noble, sir. But would you have it said that the King fled his own c-country just to save his skin?’
Whyte flung up his hands in exasperation. ‘Sir, if you die then our cause dies with you. Parliament will rule unchecked and never more will a king sit upon the throne of England.’
Charles held up his neat little hands. ‘You must not concern yourself so over our welfare. There are... other plans afoot.’
Copper and Whyte exchanged glances. Charles opened his tunic and produced a piece of crisp, folded paper which he handed to Copper.
‘S-Sir John, I desire you to meet a certain ship upon her arrival in the East India Docks tonight. The rest of my instructions are contained within that document.’
Copper glanced at the paper, which bore the royal seal.
‘Your Majesty, I do not understand.’
Charles looked his saviours up and down and gave a small, tight smile. ‘It is not always necessary to understand in order to obey. Is that not so?’
Copper hesitated for a moment before giving a small, unwilling bow.
‘Your Majesty,’ he intoned through clenched teeth.
‘Now, gentlemen,’ said Charles, rising, ‘I shall keep my own counsel for the remainder of the morning. You must not worry yourselves. We shall forever keep your good works in f-fond remembrance. But you must be content to let us lie low for a while. Then we shall see what we shall see.’
He turned on his heel and walked to the door. To his surprise, it was not opened at once by a courtier and he stood expectantly for a second before Copper raced forward and opened it for him.
Without another word, Charles went out.
Whyte thumped his fist on the table. ‘Perhaps his imprisonment has addled his brain,’ he said bitterly.
Copper shook his head, ‘No, no. He has something at work here. Something few others know about.’
Whyte pointed to the document and raised his eyebrows.
Copper pulled up a chair and reverently broke the seal, which disintegrated into fine red dust. He smoothed out the square of paper and rapidly scanned its contents. Then he looked up at Whyte, a look of shock and repressed astonishment on his face.
‘Sir John?’ said Whyte concernedly.
Copper licked his lips and looked back at the paper to confirm what he had read.
There was no mistake.
‘The King,’ he breathed. ‘The King is planning to assassinate Cromwell!’
CHAPTER 9
Narrow strips of light fell across the Doctor’s face as he gazed out solemnly over the frozen Thames.
Hands gripping the