Ravenspur: Rise of the Tudors by Conn Iggulden Read Free Book Online Page A

of sheltering an outlaw, my life, my shop, everything I own will be forfeit. I am sorry, my lord. I knew your father well and I know he would want me to do right by his boy, but …’
    Jasper lost patience with the slow speech.
    ‘Master Ambrose, I ask no favour of you – except that you turn the other way as we use your entrance to the tunnels.’
    The pale brow wrinkled in consternation.
    ‘That old door has been boarded up nigh twenty year,’ he said, rubbing a hand over his face where sweat had begun to shine.
    ‘Even so. There are men following me, Master Ambrose. They will have the harbour roads well guarded. This is my way past them all. I have a ship waiting. You will not hear from me again, unless it is to reward you for your sealed lips. Now, please. Step out of my way.’
    The old man shuffled to one side and bowed slightly as Jasper flipped up the hinged countertop and rushed through with Henry a step behind.
    ‘Tend your shop, Master Ambrose. I was not here.’
    Jasper pushed through rows of sacks and wooden cratesready to be opened. He snatched up a bit of strap iron used as a lever, spinning it in his hand as he walked.
    The shop went back a surprising distance. Above, the plastered ceiling became rough stone as if it had been made by burrowing into the cliffs. Henry nodded to himself as he went. He’d heard tell of smugglers using tunnels in Tenby. The old man had certainly not been surprised by the demand.
    Jasper reached a wall of old boards blocking their way. Both he and his nephew looked up and froze as they heard loud voices back in the shop, rising into a question.
    They were out of time. Jasper jammed the strap iron into a crack and heaved, breaking the boards away from their nails. He pulled the gap open with his free hand and the wood fell into pieces, releasing a cloud of dust and a breath of cool air tinged with green damp.
    The tunnel beyond led into blackness, covered in mould and slippery to the touch. Jasper didn’t hesitate, plunging into the dark. Henry had time to hear someone call ‘There! At the back!’ before he was off, breathing so fast he found he was making himself dizzy. It was not time to give up yet, not with an escape beckoning before him.
    His uncle raced in, straight and blind for a hundred yards, two, three, as if he knew for certain that there would be no sudden turn or block to knock them cold. Henry had enough of a task just keeping him in sight, though his terror of being left behind gave wings to his feet. It was still hard to keep up. Jasper Tudor was running for his life and he would not be caught for lack of trying.
    When the first turn came at last, it was upon them so suddenly that Jasper crashed sideways into rough stone, driving the air out of him with a cry of pain. Henry heard him hiss instructions to himself, then they were off again, into a darkso complete that he could not see his own outstretched hands dipping and swinging in front of him.
    Jasper slowed as he counted, his fingers trailing along the wall until they found a gap. The sounds of their pursuers had dwindled and as they turned right once more, the silence of the deep earth seemed to swell upon them. Henry found himself relaxing without distractions. It was a cool, peaceful place that smelled of stone and clay – a place of no life, of no sound, perhaps a place of death, but calm even so. He smiled in the privacy of blackness, realizing he was enjoying himself. His uncle was heaving for each breath by then, but he kept moving, still muttering numbers until Henry became aware of the faintest lines of grey piercing the blackness. There was a light ahead, growing as Jasper broke into a run once again. A tiny door lay before them, its planking cracked and grown all about by ferns and brambles. There was a bar across and Jasper shoved it up and wrenched the door open without hesitating.
    The sunlight blinded them both. If there had been armed men waiting for them at that moment, they would have