The red and gold lavishly decorated room was bathed in candlelight, logs burned in the hearth giving off a sweet aroma, and the study offered the usual air of warmth and sanctuary. Yet right from the beginning, his father's weary glance and forced smile alarmed him. A tall man with dark hair and dark eyes, Lord Rodes sat behind a solid oak desk wearing a white satin shirt and black long pants. He motioned for the boy to take the chair opposite, then handed him a single sheet of paper.

"What is it, Papa?"

Suddenly the study door burst open. Two burly men in ragged commoner clothing rushed in and quickly closed the door. The boy sat frozen in his chair.

"Hide these!" said one, shoving a satchel into Lord Rodes' arms.

The other, distinctly smelling of horse sweat, mumbled heavily slurred words as he raced around the room throwing closed the drapes and blowing out the candles. The flickering fire in the hearth cast ominous shadows of both of the strangers on the far wall.

Lord Rhodes protested and attempted to give the satchel back, but the strangers would have none of it. As quickly as they had appeared they hurried off, their heavy boots pounding down the stone stairs and the huge front door slamming shut behind them. With wide eyes, Jonathan raced to the window. He parted the drapes slightly and watched below as the men mounted their horses. The hooves of the horses clapped loudly as the men bolted down the lane, cleared the gate and quickly turned up the road toward London.