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.
“Yes.”
“So we don’t know who murdered Merek,” said Kate.
“No,” said Lionel. “I cannot swear to the sheriffs that Berend is innocent.” A pause for a cough.
Maud helped him to drink something in a cup. It smelled of honey and herbs.
“If I speak up they might accuse me.” His eyes reflected his fear, and also his pain and exhaustion.
“Of course they won’t accuse you. One need only see your wounds to believe your account,” said Maud. She drew back the covers, revealing a bloodstained bandage that wrapped round her father’s torso.
“One more thing and then I will leave you to your rest,” Kate said. “Where did this happen?”
“We were on our way toward Foss Bridge. We had just come through the Shambles. Near St. Crux, it was.”
“Oh,” Kate whispered.
Maud looked up. “Is that important?”
It was. “Merek’s body was found closer to the market, on the other end of the Shambles.”
“See? Not dead yet,” Lionel whispered. “Sounds like Merek was headed home.”
Kate nodded as she thought what that meant. “Merek’s attacker might have returned, found him struggling down along the shuttered shops,” she said. “Please, if you have any idea who the attacker was, now is the time to say.”
Lionel groaned. “Don’t know why I protect the bastard. Jon Horner. Talk to him.”
Startled, Kate said nothing for a moment, then, softly, “I cannot, Lionel. He was found dead this morning, possibly poisoned.”
“God help us,” Maud gasped. “Is father in danger?”
“Sir Elric’s squire is watching the house,” Kate assured her. Lionel was soaked in sweat, his eyelids flickering. Enough for the moment. “I am grateful for all your help, Lionel.”
A weak smile, though his eyes were already closed, his head listing to one side. “Me, a help to you.” His attempt to chuckle dissolved into a cough.
As they left him, they found the apothecary Gwenllian Ferriby waiting on the landing. Her eyes keenly studied their faces. Her rich dark hair was caught up in a bronze crispinette, slightly mussed from the fur-lined hood she had just pushed back, but the effect just seemed to emphasize her beauty. Kate had become acquainted with her while Kevin recuperated in her home. She was the foster sister of the infirmarian at St. Mary’s, Brother Martin, and had prepared Kevin’s tinctures according to her brother’s instructions once Kevin left the infirmary. Her apothecary was on St. Helen’s Square, next to the York Tavern, a long way to come from her shop in the middle of the day. Curious.
Maud reached out to embrace Gwenllian. “I am so grateful you’ve come. The drink has calmed Father, and eased his pain, but I fear he is feverish.”
“I will go to him, Maud. Rest easy. Between me and the physician, we will put him right.” She nodded to Kate. “Dame Katherine,” and stepped past them into the room, followed by a servant.
“Personal attention from the apothecary,” said Kate with a questioning look.
“She does it as a favor to me,” said Maud. “I once saved her daughter from a runaway cart, and we have been friends ever since.”
Yet another reason to love and respect the young woman before her.
“Thank you for your help today, Maud.”
“Father was of help?”
“He was. I doubt he would have spoken up without your encouragement. I am in your debt.”
“Mother was wrong to prevent him from speaking to you,” Maud said simply, then started down the steps.
“She means to protect her family.”
Maud paused, looking back over her shoulder. “A man who so easily slit another’s throat, he is a danger to us all and should not be free to walk the streets of York. If the constables spend all their efforts searching for Berend, the real murderer will go free. My regret is that it is still not proof enough to protect Berend.”
Nor, in her right mind, could Kate be certain Berend had not finished the man, except that she could not believe that of Berend. But Parr … She said nothing as they continued into the hall.
Winifrith glowered at Kate from her seat by the hounds, Simon asleep in her arms. “You have outstayed your welcome.”
“Hush, Mother,” Maud hissed. “If Dame Katherine comes to Father’s defense, the sheriffs will believe her, for all in the city know they are not friends.”
“You risked your father’s life before you knew whether she would defend him.” Winifrith did not look any more kindly on her daughter than she did on Kate, when she turned back to her. “Will you vouch for him, Katherine? Will you do that for him despite your differences?”
“Of course,” said Kate. “I seek the truth, always. And, as I told Maud, your house is being watched by one of Sir Elric’s men. Now I will leave you in peace.” Kate took Maud’s hands, pressing them. “Bless you.” Calling to Lille and Ghent, she slipped on their leashes, and departed.
Matt, who had stood quietly beside Fitch near the door, opened it for her and followed her out. A wintry sun had turned the snow underfoot to slush, forcing Kate to pay close attention to where she was stepping. As they reached the end of the bridge, she suggested that Matt head toward the Martha House on Castlegate and escort Marie and Petra home. She suddenly wanted them near.
“And you, Dame Katherine?”
“I am going to pass Jon Horner’s house, see whether the sheriffs’ men are there, and then stop at the guesthouse.”
“Ah.”
“I will see you at home.”
Not far down Davygate she passed Jon Horner’s house, unguarded. Damn the sheriffs. But they did not know all that she did.
She hurried on.
Margery pressed a hand to her stomach and moaned. “Oh, my dear man. I pray it was quick, that he did not suffer.”
Kate had mentioned only the wound that had killed Carl. A kindness. She impressed upon Griselde, Clement, and Seth that it was more important than ever that they keep “Mary” out of sight. Though, truly, whoever had tortured him would have come to the guesthouse by now if Carl had talked. But the violence inflicted on him was difficult for Kate to put out of her mind.
Marie and Petra rushed into the kitchen, breathless with their news, announced partially by each.
“Berend is in York!” Petra exclaimed. “We must find him.”
“We must find him and hide him. The sheriffs’ men want him for murder,” said Marie, her eyes brimming with tears. “He is no murderer.”
“And they call him a traitor,” said Petra.
Damn the gossips. Kate opened her arms to the children, hugging them tightly to her. “We will prove them wrong,” she said, banishing all doubt from her voice and her heart. She would find a way to prove his innocence.
Marie was the first to pull out of Kate’s grasp, sniffing the air. “Jennet, did you burn the stew again?” Stomping over to peer into the pot, she began quizzing the reluctant cook.
“She is a tyrant,” Petra whispered in Kate’s ear. “But she was so upset when we heard folk talking about Berend, and then when Matt admitted it was the truth she burst into tears.”
“And you?” Kate asked, smoothing Petra’s hair and kissing her cheek. “How are you?”
Petra bowed her head and shrugged. “I dreamed a woman plucked a rose from a rose bush growing in a little casket. She gave it to Berend, but as he took it, he was pricked by a thorn. A poisoned thorn. He fell, fighting for his breath.”
Kate drew her back into her arms, holding her close, kissing the top of her head.
Petra pulled away, her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know what it means, but I do not doubt him. Or you. I know you will save him.”