monarch

Surrounded by cavalry, the king's carriage galloped on the stone road in the city like a gust of wind, as if there were no pedestrians on the road at all.

In the carriage, Edward watched in a daze as Robert pressed a silk handkerchief to the wound, blood quickly dyed the thin handkerchief red.He took out the dagger hanging from his waist, and cut off a section of lace from his coat.The few pearls inlaid on the exquisite blue coat fell to the soft pads under his feet, and disappeared into a certain gap within a few strokes.

The king put the long piece of lace around Robert's arm and tied it in a knot at the wound.

"This should be able to last up to Hampton Court Palace." Edward's voice was a little trembling, and his two hands unconsciously tore at his cuffs, ripping apart the velvet decoration above.

"We're not going to Hampton Court Palace." Robert's voice was calmer than usual, as if he had just stabbed someone else, "We're going to the Tower of London."

Edward understood the meaning of the other party in an instant: the assassination of the holy car in the hall of the House of Lords in full view, there is no doubt that there is a behind-the-scenes man behind this incident, and this assassination may be just the prelude to a coup d'état.Under such circumstances, the Tower of London, the strongest fortress in the country, is undoubtedly a safer place than Hampton Court Palace, which lies undefended on the plain.

"But Dr. Paganini is at Hampton Court," said the King, "and I will show him your wound." The blood soaked again from the freshly tied blue lace, making the whole The silk showed a dull black.

"There are also doctors in the Tower of London." Robert shook his head, "It's just a flesh wound."

The king looked worriedly at the other party's pale face and distorted facial lines due to the pain. After all, he didn't say anything, but stretched out his hand and pressed the wound that was still bleeding.Standing on the white skin with warm blood made Edward feel a little sticky, as if he had stuck his fingers into a bowl of chocolate sauce.

When the carriage finally drove into the gate of the Tower of London, the four white horses pulling the carriage were exhausted under the whip of the coachman.As soon as the carriage came to a stop, the king opened the door, and jumped out of the carriage before the servant stepped forward to help him.

"Come on, help the count in!" He shouted at the cavalry who had just reined in their horses.

The knights quickly dismounted, threw the reins over the necks of their mounts, and ran towards the king's carriage regardless of what happened to the horses.

The leading cavalry captain, Baron Ponsonby, ran at the forefront. He commanded several cavalrymen and helped Robert out of the carriage.

The king watched nervously as the cavalry helped Robert up the steps, looking like a miser watching the workers carrying his precious china.When he looked at Lord Ponsonby, all the warmth and concern in those blue eyes disappeared in an instant, and they looked like the eyes of a snow wolf staring at its prey.

"You came just in time, Baron." The king's voice blew into Ponsonby's ears like a cold wind, making him shiver slightly, "Please send a letter to Hampton Court immediately, so that Dr. Paganini, the physician, will be here in an hour."

"In addition, I want you to pass my order to the Guards, let them enter the city of London immediately, and London will enter a state of martial law from now on. They must control various points, including here, the Houses of Parliament, the Whitehall Palace, and various The mansions of great nobles. No one may enter or leave these places without my order."

"All the moving ships of the navy, bring me into the Thames, and anchor on the river from here to the Houses of Parliament. Please let them load their shells, and if there is any movement, blow it to the ground." said the king grimly.

"May I ask your Majesty, if the MPs protest this, what should I ask the soldiers to do?" Ponsonby asked cautiously with his head down.

"Break the nose of the leader. If he dares to resist, he will be executed for treason on the spot." The king sneered, "The rest of the people will probably learn to obey." He clenched his fists tightly, "I That lesson should have been taught to them long ago."

Baron Ponsonby bowed and was about to leave when the king seemed to recall something and stopped him with his hand, "Tell Cecil and Walsingham to go to the Home Office. I will give them full authorization to use unlimited resources to investigate anyone, anything, and I'm going to hear their first debriefing tonight."

After finishing speaking, he nodded towards Ponsonby and walked up the steps quickly.

Sir Gadget, magistrate of the Tower of London, appeared before the king, panting, flushed and sweating, as if he had just been pulling the king's carriage for several miles, when in fact he had just run from his office. Just come here.

"His Majesty is here, and we... are honored," Sir Gadge gasped, looking as if he was about to have a heart attack.

"Don't waste time," the king interrupted him impatiently. "Please take your men to guard the entrances of the castle, and no one is allowed to come in and out at will. In addition, call all the doctors in this tower."

Sir Gadge trotted down the corridor like a piece of bouncing jelly.

The king walked up the spiral staircase to the second floor and came to a door that was ajar.He took a deep breath to calm himself, and pushed the door open.

Robert sat in an easy chair by the window, and the red light of the setting sun fell on his face, but only made him look paler.Seeing Edward coming in, he forced a smile, raised his uninjured arm with difficulty, and greeted him.

"Don't move." Edward stepped forward quickly and put his arms back in place. "Lie down like this, the doctor will be here soon." He looked around the room, "You need some fresh air, this tower No matter how luxurious the room is, it always has a musty smell."

Edward walked to the window and opened it, allowing the not-so-fresh but humid air from the river to flood into the house.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I feel much better," said Robert.

There was a rush of bells outside the window, and Edward looked out of the window again. The black bell towers of the churches dotted all over London formed a messy but charming skyline, like circles or circles in a mountain range. pointed peaks.Behind them, there is a sky as red as blood, reminiscent of the backdrop of some third-rate small theater.

"The church bells are ringing," said the king softly.

"Have you declared martial law?" asked Robert.

"Yes, don't worry." The king nodded, everything was under control.

Someone knocked on the door cautiously.

"Come in," said the king.

The medical officer of the Tower of London gently pushed open the door, "Your Majesty." He bowed to the king timidly.

The king looked at the doctor whose main duty was to treat the prisoners in the tower with dissatisfied eyes. The unshaven gray beard, the robe with the edge of the line, and the medicine box with peeling paint all made the king frown .

"You start." Staring at the doctor for half a minute, until the doctor was already dripping with cold sweat, Edward finally sighed resignedly, "Something is better than nothing."

Robert laughed, "I believe this doctor is enough. After all, it's just a skin trauma. I think the doctors in the prison are best at treating such wounds."

The doctor wanted to unbutton Robert's shirt with trepidation, "Excuse me for being rude, my lord."

Edward stepped forward suddenly and drew out the dagger from his waist, and the doctor jumped back in horror, as if thinking that the disgruntled king was about to stab him.

The king walked up to Robert, bent down, and cut off the blood-soaked sleeve with a dagger.

"It doesn't need to be so troublesome." He waved his hand at the stunned doctor, signaling him to continue treating the wound.

The doctor took out a bottle of shochu from the medicine chest, "This may hurt a little, sir." He poured the shochu on Robert's wound as he spoke, causing a low moan from the other side.

Edward went to the window again, as if looking at the hillside winding down to the river, where the fir forests on the hillside were already covered with green shoots.However, if you take a closer look, you will find that the knuckles of the clenched fist hidden in the cuff have turned white from being too tightly squeezed.

When the doctor finished treating the wound, the bright red sky had become dim, and the sun that had already set sent a few faint rays of light from the horizon, and the night was like a thick cloak, about to wrap the whole world.

Edward looked at the snow-white gauze on Robert's arm with satisfaction, "You did a good job, sir, what's your name?"

"Dr. George Kellogg, I am at your service, Your Majesty." The doctor who was packing the medicine box quickly turned his head and replied.

"Are you a Scot?" asked the King.

"You must have recognized my accent. Yes, Your Majesty, I am from Edinburgh, or Clammond Island just outside Edinburgh."

"Well, then you are from now on Sir George Kellogg of Crammond Island, thank you for your faithful service."

The eyes of the newly-baked Sir George Kellogg stared wide open, and the cloudy eyes shone with light for the first time in more than a decade. Just like dripping down.

"You can step back." The king said with a smile.

As if waking up from a dream, Sir Kellogg finally came back to his senses. His knees gave way, and he suddenly knelt on the ground. His knees hit the thick Persian carpet with a dull sound. "Thank you, Your Majesty!" After he finished speaking, he jumped up like a wild rabbit, grabbed his medicine box, and rushed out through the door.

The king and Robert looked at each other, and after a few seconds, they both burst into laughter.

"It must have hurt him to kneel like that just now." Edward laughed out of breath.

Robert leaned on the back of the chair panting, the laughter just pulled his wound a few times, and the expression on his face was distorted for a moment, but he perfectly covered it up in the laughter, and the king didn't notice it arrive. "I guess it may hurt more than my knife." He pointed to his wound.

A few muffled cannon shots came from outside the window, echoing in the cool spring air filled with shrubs and flowers on the hillside.

"What's the matter?" Robert leaned forward, about to sit up.

The king stretched out his hand and pressed him on the back of the easy chair, "The fleet is coming, and they are firing demonstrations."

In the hall of the House of Lords, MPs, attracted by the sound of gunfire, flocked to the windows to look out.

On the wide river outside the Parliament building, several huge warships were moored impressively, which looked like moss-covered reefs in the middle of the river.The artillery of a battleship parked downstairs in the Parliament Building has been loaded, and the black muzzle is facing the Parliament Building like the eyes of a monster.On the poop of the battleship, the name of the ship in huge cursive letters was painted with paint-HMS "Revenge".A few wisps of white smoke rose slowly from the deck and dissipated in the gradually dimming sky. It was the gunners on this ship that let out the demonstration cannon just now.

The congressmen backed away in horror, and some rushed to the door, but were blocked by guards holding halberds.

"We are members of the House of Lords, you have violated our sacred rights, let us go out!" Someone began to clamor.

However, the guards were like statues, turning a deaf ear to the protests of the parliamentarians.Looking at their hands clutching their halberds, no one dared to suspect that any fool who tried to do some irrational move would be stabbed right through.

There was a sound of hurried footsteps outside the door, and Lord Ponsonby entered the hall, followed by two guards, their swords drawn from their scabbards.

"Members." Baron Ponsonby glanced around the hall indifferently, bowed his head slightly as a salute, "According to His Majesty's order, all adults attending Parliament today must undergo investigation before they can leave. Don't leave London until it's over." He pointed to the oak door of the hall, "Now we will follow the alphabetical order, please ask the members whose names are called to go out through the door, and a clerk will lead you to the detective in charge of interrogation. "

The crowd suddenly buzzed like a blasted hornet's nest. Some people protested in low voices, and more people looked angry, but they dared not speak after all.

"I protest! Who do you take us for?" A roar came from the crowd, like Moses parting the Red Sea, and the people who spoke quickly became empty.

Ponsonby raised his eyes and looked at the middle-aged man who was speaking opposite, and he recognized that it was the Earl of Nottingham.

The Earl of Nottingham, who was short in stature, looked as if he had been greatly insulted. His face was an allergic scarlet from his forehead to his neck, and the fat all over his body seemed to be trembling. "You think we are street pickpockets or muggers? Are we petty thieves looking for wallets in lockers in public baths? Or roadhogs in the Welsh woods? You're insulting us." "He said and walked straight to the door.

Ponsonby opened his legs and easily blocked the only way for the Earl of Nottingham, "No one wants to insult you, sir." He looked down at the other party with a mocking smile on his face.

The Earl of Nottingham seemed to be irritated, "It is impossible for a simple-minded pariah like you to understand such things as the glory of the nobility. The king may give you a title, but in the final analysis, you are just a hound raised by the king , what qualifications do you have to block the way of a member of the House of Lords?"

Ponsonby looked expressionlessly at the distorted face of the Earl of Nottingham. After a few seconds, he took a half step aside.

The Earl of Nottingham thought that the other party had finally flinched. He smiled triumphantly and was about to walk forward.Suddenly a black shadow flashed in front of his eyes, and then he couldn't see anything.

The councilors watched in horror as the Earl of Nottingham fell heavily on the ground as if turned into a stone statue by Medusa, and blood gushed out from the broken bridge of his nose like a fountain.

Ponsonby watched with satisfaction that the crowd finally quieted down, and the eyes of those arrogant adults finally revealed a look of fear.

"I want to remind everyone that your parliamentary privileges are only valid in this hall, so if someone insists on leaving this hall, it is tantamount to giving up his privileges automatically." He glanced indifferently and fell to the ground. The Earl of Nottingham, the Provincial Personnel, "Those who refuse to cooperate with the investigation, I can only think that they have something to do with this conspiracy, so I feel guilty." He looked at the MPs who bowed their heads, "Who among you dare not accept the investigation? "

No one dared to answer, Ponsonby nodded in satisfaction.

"Let's start with A, Baron Akron, please go first." Ponsonby said.

A black spherical object was carried into the hall by several guards. They held the rope in their hands and hung it on the gate of the House of Lords within a few strokes.Now all the councilors could see clearly that it was a head that was still bleeding.

"The assassin's head will be hung here for ten days." Ponsonby had that malicious smile on his face again.

The faces of the congressmen were as pale as the documents they were waving in their hands, and many looked like they were about to vomit.

The Baron of Akron staggered out of the crowd, or he might have been pushed out, his features crumpled and looking like he was about to cry.

Ponsonby winked at the gate, beckoning him to pass under the head.

As if his feet were nailed to the floor, Baron Akron moved to the door step by step.He raised his head to look at the bloody head, his face looked no different from the color of that head.

The crowd watched as he passed under the head from which a few drops of blood, which had turned black, fell onto the baron's white lavender.He disappeared behind the gate, and not long after, there was a dull sound in the corridor, like the sound of a sack full of flour being thrown into the bottom storehouse of a cargo ship, and it was obvious that the poor baron had fainted in the corridor.

"Then, let's take the next one now." Ponsonby's face showed the smile that terrified the members of parliament.