A Murdered Peace
- Автор: Робб Кэндис
- Серия: A Kate Clifford Mystery #3
- Год: 2018
- Язык: английский
- Год: Pegasus Books
- ISBN: 9781681779270
- Жанр: Исторические детективы
Электронная книга - «A Murdered Peace». Краткое содержание книги:
England still in tumult at the start of the fifteenth century, as Kate Clifford finds herself working to prove the innocence of her longtime confidante.
It is deep winter in York, 1400, the ground frozen, the short days dimmed with the smoke from countless fires, the sun, when it shines, low in the sky. It is rumored that the Epiphany Uprising, meant to relieve the realm of the Henry the usurper and return King Richard to the throne has, instead, spelled his doom. As long as Richard lives, he is a threat to Henry. So, too, the nobles behind the plot. The ringleaders have been caught, some slaughtered as they fled west by folk loyal to Henry, and the king's men now search the towns for survivors.
A perilous time, made worse for Kate Clifford by the disappearance of Berend, her cook and confidante, shortly after Christmas. Her niece saw his departure in a dream – he said he was honor bound to leave. Honor bound – to a former lord? One of the nobles who led the uprising? Is he alive? She is hardly consoled when Berend reappears, wounded, secretive, denying any connection to the uprising, but refusing to explain himself. When he is accused of brutally murdering a spice seller in the city, Kate discovers a chest of jewels in his possession. Some of the jewels belong to her old friend Lady Margery, wanted by the king for her husband’s part in the uprising. For the sake of their long friendship, and the love she and her wards bear for him, Kate wants to believe his innocence. So, too, does Sir Elric. And he has the powerful backing of the Earl of Westmoreland. All she need do is confide in him. If only she trusted her heart.
“Do you mean that he was one of Baron Montagu’s men, Salisbury’s father? And that the baron left him some land?”
Kate nodded. “And do you know why your captain is in the city?”
“Lady Margery. We are to search for her.”
“On the king’s orders. You dare not disobey.”
“Sir Elric will see that she comes to no harm.”
“So he promised me.”
“You can trust him.”
“And will he see that Berend comes to no harm?”
“If he said so. He is a man of his word.”
She prayed he was right. “What you said about the king, the lice. Did those who witnessed it take it as an omen?”
“The king and his councilors are assuring everyone that it is due to King Henry’s stringent penances with which he means to scour out all sin. They twist it to be a sign of his grace. But the folk, they are afeared it is a sign of damnation, that he transgressed in unseating the divinely anointed king, his cousin.”
Of course they would believe that, Kate thought. And now Henry would be ever more defensive, overbearing. Hence Elric’s warning. “A bad beginning,” she said.
“Yes.” Kevin shifted his feet. “You should go down to the kitchen, warm yourself. I was just coming to say farewell. For now.”
“If I should need you–”
“You have only to send me word.”
“Your captain. You are certain I can trust him?”
About to nod, Kevin paused. “He holds you in high regard, Dame Katherine, and I believe he means to keep you safe, no matter his orders. But he is the earl’s man, and he will not overtly challenge his orders.”
“You are saying that I am safe, but perhaps not Berend, or Lady Margery.”
“As I said, he will ensure that she comes to no harm under his watch.”
Kate nodded. “And if I asked for your help with the other?”
“If you trust Berend, so do I.”
His ardent gaze gave her pause. She was taking advantage of his regard for her.
“You would risk antagonizing your captain and the earl?”
“God is my conscience, no earthly lord.” He bowed to her, proffered his arm.
She could not deny it was good to have such an ally, but she must have a care not to ask for too much from this gentle man. Lightly touching his forearm, she crossed the landing with him.
As they began to descend the steps, he asked, “Petra’s dreams. Does she have the Sight?”
“She believes that she does, but I am unconvinced. In training her in archery I’ve witnessed her remarkable concentration, and her ability to recall every detail of the instruction even so far as what she sensed I judged most important. And she guesses rightly. I prefer to admire these abilities and think she simply hears and understands far more than she realizes.”
“You are very proud of her.”
“Of all three children. They have brought me great joy.”
“I will miss sharing their lives.”
“They will miss you, and we shall all miss your stories.” He had a keen eye for people’s quirks, turning them into amusing stories lacking all malice. Every evening Marie and Petra would beg him to tell them tales of the folk he had encountered on the street that day. She always knew when he obliged, hearing the peals of laughter even from across the yard.
They parted at the bottom of the steps, Kevin bowing to her, then continuing on toward Kate’s manservant Matt who was shoveling a pathway out to the street. As the two men greeted each other, Kate took the already cleared path from the house to the kitchen.
Jennet left a lively argument with the girls to see to Kate as she entered the kitchen.
“Fresh bread and cheese, some ale?”
Kate nodded. “Any news yet?” After the children had gone to bed the previous night, Kate had told Jennet all she had learned from Elric. Jennet was far more than a servant to Kate, she was a friend, confidante, business partner, and a connection to the invisible folk of York, the poor, young, and old, who survived by their wits and little else, her eyes and ears. As a sign of her trust, Kate never asked how Jennet contacted them, who they were, or how they gathered their information.
“So far no word of a bald man,” said Jennet. “Or two, one alone, badly scarred. But I extended that to anyone new in the city the past few days. A few had caught sight of a pair who seemed to be traveling together. Flickers, there and gone.”
“So they will let you know when they catch glimpses of anyone?”
Jennet grinned. “They will. It is just the sort of tracking we loved best as children on the streets. Ghosting, we called it.”
“Sometimes I think you miss it.”
“I enjoy being out among them, but I am ever grateful for a true home, safe, dry, warm.” A shrug. “They will now also keep an eye out for Berend.”
“He was not one of the pair by any chance?”
“You are thinking of Petra’s dream, are you?” Jennet asked.
Kate nodded.
“They could not say.”
Later, after breakfast, when Marie returned to her bedchamber to change the ribbons in her hair, Kate took the opportunity of asking Petra more about her dreams of Berend. “In the first one, he said he was duty-bound to leave, is that right?” Kate asked.
“That was not the first one,” the child said as she rubbed Lille’s ears, “but he did say that in the one about leaving.” She suddenly dropped her hands to her sides and frowned up at Kate. “You are worried about him. More than you were.” A statement, not a question.
But Kate did not want to lose the thread. “In last night’s dream you saw him running and hiding. He is in danger?”
Her dark eyes boring into Kate, Petra nodded.
“Is he alone?”
“I saw only him.”
“Who is chasing him?”
“The Sight is not like that.”
“What do you mean?”
“God does not explain what he shows me. And I cannot look round to see what else is there.”
A few months ago Petra had feared she might be cursed by the Sight. But she now framed it as a gift from God. Sister Brigida’s doing, perhaps, the girls’ tutor in French, Latin, and music, a challenging, but kind, teacher. Whoever had changed the child’s mind, Kate was grateful.
“Have you tried praying for guidance?” Kate asked.
“No. Old Mapes said to accept what was given with grace and never ask for more.”
Old Mapes was the elderly healer who had raised the child in the Scottish highlands, before her uncle claimed her and brought her to York. Kate stretched out her legs, thinking. “So you had dreamed of Berend before?” Ghent rose and came to settle beside her. She rested a hand on the wolfhound’s back.
Petra averted her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Even if it might help a friend in danger?”
The girl bit her lip, frowning. “I promise I will tell you anything that might help.”
Kate leaned over and touched her niece’s cheek. “I am grateful. So what is Brigida teaching you today?”
Petra’s face brightened. “We are learning new songs in praise of the Virgin Mary for Candlemas.” Hence their skipping their usual morning lessons at the school on Petergate for additional time with Sister Brigida. Candlemas was just days away. “Sister Brigida says I have a strong, beautiful voice. Marie is too breathy. I think that means she does not sing, she whispers.”
“Did Sister Brigida say that to Marie?”
Petra shook her head. “She said not to fear being heard. Let her voice soar to heaven. She said we must not ask God and his blessed mother to strain to hear our devotions.”
They shared a smile at Brigida’s discretion.
“Might I hear a little of the song?” Kate asked.