by Sam Burnell
Jack felt he had little time to catch his breath, so brief were the stops. All responsibility for the journey had been taken from them.
When he complained to Emilio, he was told curtly that when he had the skills to get them where they were going at an equal speed then Emilio would defer to him. Jack had stalked off, cursing loudly. He had found his exit blocked immediately by one of Emilio’s men and was forced to turn on his heel and rejoin the group.
“Shall we go in?” Emilio said, gesturing to an opened door behind him. “There is food ready for us. We are not scheduled to stop here for long. And we both know, Jack, what a high regard you have for your stomach.”
Jack’s blue eyes locked with the Italian’s for a moment, before he pushed past him and entered the hall behind him.
Jack seated himself at the table, where there was indeed an annoyingly good meal laid out. Jack gave it his full attention, ignoring Emilio and Richard who had joined him at the table.
“Jack always travels better when fed,” Richard remarked, as Jack finished his meal.
“My point was that we could have made this journey equally well on our own,” Jack said, his words directed at Emilio. “I resent being treated like a letter. One that the Knights wish to impress the Lord with their speed in delivering.”
Emilio, seated opposite Jack, had finished his meal. Unlike Jack, he’d drunk sparingly, the glass in his hand still half full. Dropping his gaze from Jack, he addressed Richard, who sat on Jack’s left. “Does he adopt such an attitude just to annoy me, or is it a permanent condition?”
Richard looked up and met the Italian’s gaze. “Don’t feel you are being singled out.”
“Surely he cannot resent the fact that you will make your destination as quickly as possible,” Emilio said, directing his reply to Richard.
“I believe that Jack holds his freedom in higher regard than your efficiency,” Richard replied, dryly.
“I’m sat here!” Jack said loudly, putting his empty glass down with bang.
Emilio laughed. “How many times have I told you that you are easy prey?”
Jack shot the Knight a murderous look before returning his attention to refilling his empty glass.
A moment later a letter was brought to the table for Emilio. He had received similar dispatches on their journey. Emilio did not share their contents, but the brothers guessed that they contained details of the provision made for the next leg of the journey. The letter was sealed and then further tied with a light blue ribbon threaded through the paper and secured under the wax seal, a security device against tampering. The Knight broke the seal roughly with his thumb and pulled the ribbon free of the paper, discarding it on the table. Unfolding the sheet, he read the brief contents over the rim of his glass. A moment later he secured the folded sheet inside his jacket.
“Gentlemen, we have only a few hours, so I suggest you get some sleep.” Emilio rose from the chair and left them alone.
“What I wouldn’t give for a good night’s sleep,” Jack said, his head in his hands. “I’m starting to lose track of whether it’s night or day.”
Richard didn’t reply. Reaching out, he picked up the blue ribbon that Emilio had discarded. Folding it neatly, he tucked it into his doublet. Lizbet’s favourite colour was blue.