Free The King's Spy (Thomas Hill Trilogy 1) by Andrew Swanston

shall depend upon you to render our orders and reports entirely secure, and to reveal the enemy’s secrets when you have the opportunity to do so. Have you anything to ask me?’ Thomas had not. ‘Master Rush will see to your needs. Ask him for whatever you require to carry out your loyal duties.’
    ‘I shall, your majesty.’
    ‘Good. Then lose no time. England’s enemies must be defeated.’
    Tobias Rush nodded to Thomas, signalling the end of the audience. The three men took two steps backwards, Abraham holding on tightly, bowed, then turned and left the hall.
    Outside, Rush escorted them to the college entrance. ‘His majesty has instructed me to provide you with whatever you need, Master Hill. Is your room adequate? Food, wine, company, you have but to ask.’
    ‘Thank you, sir. I shall be sure to do so.’ Thomas wondered if he should mention Captain Fayne.
    ‘Excellent. We’re much relieved that you’re here. I never trusted Erasmus Pole,’ said Rush, ‘and told the king so more than once. I wasn’t surprised that his body was found in that vile lane. He was a man of odd habits.’
    Thomas glanced at Abraham, who was silent. At the gate, Rush shook their hands and watched them turn towards Pembroke. As they did so, two riders, yelling at them to get out of the way, swept past and into the college. Both wore pale blue hats with long feathers, and dark blue coats festooned with ribbons and lace.
    ‘Sounds like the royal princes,’ said Abraham, drily. ‘Rupert and Maurice. Probably boasting about their exploits in Bristol. If they aren’t drunk, they soon will be. The king should send them back where they came from.’
    ‘Who were all those people around the king, Abraham?’ asked Thomas.
    ‘I couldn’t see them, but the king has a full court. The Master of the Revels was probably there, and William Dobson, the court painter. He’s much in demand, I hear. Unspeakably vain, some young men these days. Care to have your portrait painted, Thomas? Rush could arrange it.’
    ‘I think not, thank you. Although it sounds as if Tobias Rush could arrange anything. What do you know of him?’
    ‘Rush is not to my taste, but the king relies on him,’ replied Abraham as they entered Pembroke. ‘He organizes the king’s affairs and runs his household. He’s skilled at playing on the king’s insecurity. He’s a clever man, and an ambitious one. Treat him with caution, Thomas.’
    ‘I certainly shall. Now, when shall we start work?’
    ‘This morning. I’ll have food and wine sent to my rooms. Silas will escort me there. Come in an hour.’
    An hour later they were seated at Abraham’s table, a pile of papers before them. ‘Since the king came to Oxford,’ the old man began, ‘we’ve been using substitution ciphers devised and developed by Erasmus. The ciphers are based on an eight-letter keyword, changed on thefirst day of each month. In the final week of the month, Erasmus sent out the first four letters of the new keyword, encoded according to the current keyword and hidden in the text of the message. Each recipient then sent back four more letters, also encoded and hidden, to make up the full keyword.’
    ‘So each recipient has a unique keyword, which lasts for a month?’
    ‘That is right. It means that we have to know from whom each message has come, but that is easily dealt with. Each message carries the encrypted name of the sender, again hidden in the text. Each name has its own codeword. If one forgets to include his name, we simply use all the current keywords until we find the right one for the text.’
    ‘There are weaknesses in this, Abraham, as you know. The messages carrying either half of the new keyword might not arrive, and a list of all current keywords and codewords must have been kept somewhere.’
    ‘Indeed they were. Inside Erasmus’s head. He never wrote them down. As to the other point, we’ve had no serious difficulties. Process of elimination and a bit of guesswork