Den of Thieves (Cat Royal Adventures #3)

His court? What did that mean?

‘If they are guilty, they will not survive until tomorrow; if blameless, then innocent lives will have been spared.’ The boy turned to each side of the audience in turn, hands held out in graceful appeal. His eyes then fell on Frank, who was being restrained by a burly porter, his face tinged blue as an arm choked his throat. ‘But I wish to let them speak on their behalf and to speak I believe they need air, citizen.’ Frank’s captor grinned sheepishly and loosened his grip. Frank gasped and staggered. ‘Now, if you will oblige me in untying that noose from the girl, I will summon help to escort these foreigners to their appointment with justice. The next session in the Court of the Thieves of the Palais Royal is about to begin.’

With immense relief, I felt the rope being removed from my neck. The boy gave a piercing whistle and six lads wormed their way to the front of the crowd and saluted him like soldiers reporting for duty.

‘Take the men, my friends,’ he commanded. They surrounded Frank and Joseph and began to hustle them through the crowd before anyone had time to change their mind. A final thought struck my saviour and he turned back to the crowd who were now smiling and laughing, their bloody mood giving way to a carnival atmosphere. The king’s flight had turned everything upside down, so why could beggar boys not preside over a court?

‘Oh, and if any worthy citizen wishes to view the trial, let him proceed to the Golden Balls.’

With that, he gave another bow and held out his hand to me. I stepped hesitantly forward, wondering what was going to happen next. J-F smiled at my bewilderment, kissed my fingertips, and then led me away from the lamp post that had so very nearly become my scaffold.

‘Follow me, firecracker,’ he said.





SCENE 4 – THE THIEVES’ COURT



I looked sideways at my escort. He was only a few inches taller than me. He had an alert face, eyes darting this way and that, sharp like a sparrow on a tray of crumbs. Prominent ears stuck out from matted brown hair like handles on a toby jug. He moved with confidence, swaggering down the street with the bearing of a little prince, tipping his cap to all the ladies.

‘Monsieur, thank you for saving us,’ I said when we turned into a quieter street of close-pressed houses and rank gutters off the rue Saint Honoré. It reminded me of home.

‘My name is J-F, mademoiselle. And I haven’t saved you. You have the wrong idea about me if you think that.’

Was he being modest? It didn’t seem his style.

‘Then why did you step in to stop them lynching us?’

‘Why waste three perfectly good suits of clothes – possibly jewels and money too?’ He gave me a searching look, eyes flicking up and down as he assessed my finery. ‘If I hadn’t, someone else would’ve nabbed them before you were cold. I’m no friend to aristocrats – I just like their stuff.’ His face was hard, inscrutable. I didn’t think he was joking. ‘You look shocked, mademoiselle.’

‘Not shocked, disappointed,’ I said sourly. I now realized the adventure was far from over as we walked back to this hideout of his. The thought crossed my mind that, for the moment, I only had him to deal with: I should run for it if I knew my own best interests. But what about Frank and Joseph, being marched off to their appointment with the Thieves’ Court?

J-F appeared to be following my internal debate from the expressions passing across my face because he tightened his grip on my arm. ‘I am sorry to disappoint a lady, mademoiselle. Does it make you feel any better to know that I also wanted to see the firecracker go off again?’ He winked and gave me a grin that a gargoyle would’ve been proud to own.

I didn’t smile back. There was something in his expression that told me that he was not to be crossed. He would need careful handling – neither Frank nor Joseph would know how to do this. Resolving not to abandon them, I allowed J-F to lead me into a tavern adorned by three golden balls that hung over its entrance. We walked straight through the empty taproom and out to a yard at the back. It was stacked with barrels and had that distinct odour peculiar to inns: a perfume consisting of beer and wine slops trodden in by muddy boots. Frank and Joseph were already there, surrounded by a group of at least twenty boys, all of whom were pawing at their clothes with greedy fingers. Two girls appeared from a side room and greeted J-F with a kiss on each cheek. He muttered something in their ears and then clapped his hands.

‘Search the accused for evidence!’ he ordered. ‘Marie, Annette – take the little redhead to your room.’

Frank looked alarmed to see me being separated from them. ‘I beg you not to harm her!’ he shouted after me. Marie and Annette tittered.

‘He’s so gallant,’ Marie, the dark-haired one, whispered to me.

‘Frank, don’t worry. I’ll be perfectly safe. Just behave and it’ll be all right,’ I assured him in English.

Marie and Annette led me into their lodgings and closed the door. We eyed each other cautiously like dogs trying to work out if the stranger would bite.

‘Mademoiselle, if we could trouble you for the dress,’ said Annette with mock-politeness. She was a pretty girl with white-blonde hair and blue eyes.

‘Of course.’ I gave them not even a growl as I slipped out of the gown – I’d hated it from the start. They took one look at my shift and turned up their noses in disappointment. No doubt they had been hoping for something much finer.

‘We won’t be bothering with that – not a bit of lace on it,’ said Marie. ‘No jewellery either. But the shoes – we’ll have those.’

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