The Service of the Dead

“That would be helpful. And if you might, give my servant Sam a letter of introduction to the chapter at Beverley for their help in learning what he can about Alice Hatten?”

“Of course. He can come for it tomorrow morning.”

“Will you tell Margery of this?”

The dean walked over to the window, staring out for a long while. He rubbed his fingertips with his thumb on his right hand while he considered, the only outward sign of his concern. Kate glanced round at the trunks while she waited, wondering at the number. For a fortnight in York?

Finally her uncle turned. “I chided Margery for traveling with four retainers, but now I am glad of it. I think it best I do not mention what happened here. The fewer who know of it the better. I shall trust that her retainers will be on the alert. But what of you? Are you safe?”

“I have Berend, Jennet, Sam, and the hounds.”

The dean nodded. “You choose your servants as your father taught you. Good.”

“What of Archbishop Scrope? Are his spies likely to be sniffing about? Should I be worried they might discover my secret?”

“I do not believe so. His mentor was the exiled Archbishop Arundel – former archbishop, I should say – known to be advising Duke Henry, so Scrope is quite certain King Richard has a spy in his household. He dare not raise any alarms. Now, will you come dine at the deanery when Margery is dressed?”

Kate had been expecting the invitation, and accepted with the hope that she might hear more about King Richard’s plans and what Duke Henry was doing on the continent. Her uncle was not only dean of York Minster, but also King Richard’s Lord Privy Seal and, until recently, Keeper of the Wardrobe as well. His choice to come to York himself rather than name a proxy to the post suggested he was not in the king’s best graces at the moment. Or perhaps it was he who wished to distance himself from the king. Or, considering what he’d said about the archbishop, perhaps he was here to observe Scrope. That was a new twist.

In the event, she learned little that she had not already heard. Her uncle was maddeningly discreet, but at least she was clearer about the lay of the land, so that she might better separate wild rumors from those with some foundation in truth. None of it cheered her. King Richard had indeed decided to split up much of the Lancastrian holdings among those he trusted.

As they made their way back across the city, Kate told Jennet all that she had learned about the incident in the guesthouse, and of the pack and its letter.

“Whatever happened, Alice is in danger, Jennet. William expressed concern for her, but you know he and whoever else is involved will consider her expendable if they fear she might expose them. It’s up to us to help her.” Over time, Kate and her three servants – Berend, Jennet, and Matt – had honed their skills as a team investigating the backgrounds of landlords whose property she’d considered acquiring, inquiries requiring discretion and thoroughness. It was not always obvious who actually held the deed to a property. Kate was confident they could put those same skills to good use in searching for Alice.

“I will go a-hunting,” said Jennet. “This time I think I should be a lad. That way I can easily slip about.” With her slender frame and round, freckled face, Jennet could easily pass as a boy. As long as no one pulled off her hat. “I’ll see what I might discover about Alice’s habits and haunts, where she might seek sanctuary when in trouble. And I’ll keep my ears pricked for any mention of Hubert Bale.”

“For my part, I will call on William’s mistress in the morning. She might slip with some information.”

“Drusilla Seaton slip?” Jennet chuckled. “I would fain be present to witness that.”

“Miracles do happen.”

At the house, Berend greeted Kate with concern in his voice. “The letter – I have encountered this man, Hubert Bale.”

“But that is good!”

He shook his head. “When our paths crossed he was a cutthroat for hire. Unless he is much changed, he is not here seeking a peaceful solution.”

“Would you recognize him?”

Berend touched the scarred hole that now served as an ear. “We were of a kind. He might be much changed.”

“Would he recognize you?”

A nod. “That is the good news. If he is alive, he will avoid me at all cost. And you, I pray.”

“God guided my heart the day I approached you, Berend.” She took a deep breath. “We will want to find the fresh grave and see just who William buried. Will you see to that?”

“I will see what I can do, Dame Katherine. Sam knows the servant who accompanied your cousin and his man Roger out into the Forest of Galtres. And if your cousin simply weighted the body down in the River Ouse?”

“I’ve grown soft and stupid in the city. I should have had Sam follow William, not guard the guesthouse.”