Conspiracy

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S. J. Parris. Conspiracy

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Map

PROLOGUE

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY-SEVEN

TWENTY-EIGHT

TWENTY-NINE

About the Author

Also by S. J. Parris

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Title Page

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A man in cleric’s robes, the woman had said. An educated, well-born priest, by his voice – a friend of Paul’s, or an enemy? What had they been looking for? Whatever it was, it must be significant; they had immediately jumped to the conclusion that someone else had been looking for it too. ‘Who could possibly know?’ the one dressed as a priest had said; did he mean who would know Paul was dead, or something else? I reached inside my doublet and touched the charred fragment of paper with my fingertips. Was this what they had hoped to find? If so, my resolution not to involve myself further in Paul’s murder was worthless; I was already up to my neck in it.

I returned to the Swan and Cross, still glancing behind to make sure I was not being followed. The fact that I saw no one in the streets made me all the more uneasy. The tavern was crowded now that night covered its patrons’ entrances and exits. Someone had brought out a rebec and struck up a tune; the shrieking of girls and snatches of raucous song carried the length of the street. Gaston spotted me across the room and shoved his way through to intercept me at the door, blocking my view with his wide shoulders.

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