A Twisted Vengeance

“So he does!”

Kate signaled Lille and Ghent to accompany her as she stepped out into the yard. “Master Selby, Thomas, I trust you are here about Hans.”

Selby took a few steps backward, tucking his hands behind him. “As you are the finder, we require your silver to ensure that you will stay in the city while we have need of your witness, Mistress Clifford.” It was the law, the money to be held by the coroner.

“Ah. I will fetch it. If you give me a moment …” She made as if to hand the leads to Selby, who blanched.

“No,” said Thomas Holme, stepping between them. “I will see to the fee. He was my servant.”

Selby shook his head. “My good man, the finder pays the fee.”

“And I said I would see to it,” said Thomas.

Kate touched her partner’s arm, thanking him. And she thanked Selby for seeing to this himself rather than sending one of his constables.

Selby shifted feet, no doubt questioning the wisdom of his choice. “As this is the second incident in as many days …” His attention was on Lille, who sniffed the air in his direction. “I understand that the Earl of Westmoreland’s men were set to guard Magistra Matilda’s maison dieu while a Sister Dina, from Dame Eleanor’s house, was being cared for. After an intruder–”

“A drunk, yes. He stumbled into Dame Eleanor’s kitchen, frightening Sister Dina.” Kate kept her voice level, no excitement. “I cannot guess what he thought to gain – the sisters have few possessions. Perhaps the statue of the Blessed Virgin?” She shook her head. “I suspect he sought a warm, dry place to sleep off the ale. I am more concerned about Hans’s murder and the watchman’s injury. You have talked to Severen? It is he who tussled with the men. Indeed, his description of Hans, lying lifeless on the street, would suggest he was the one from whom you should collect the silver. It was Severen who was the finder.” Smiling, she touched Lille’s head, signaling her to be still. “And now, if you will pardon me, I have been summoned to the minster by His Grace the archbishop.”

“Archbishop Scrope? Of course, of course. One does not keep His Grace waiting,” said Selby, bowing to her and shuffling off down toward Castlegate. Without the fee.

Kate drew Thomas aside to ask whether he had learned anything of interest from Magistra Matilda.

“Nothing you had not already heard. I do begin to wonder whether she is right to distrust Dame Eleanor’s beguines.”

“You blame the victims? And who is to blame for the murder of your servant?”

“I wish I had never hired Hans and Werner, truth be told. Though they both work hard, my wife could not abide being near Hans after one of his nights out drinking. She said she could smell the ale from across the hall.”

“And Werner?”

“He is a cipher to me, though a hard worker, I admit.”

Kate did not pursue the argument. She knew Thomas had a good heart. He would think better of all this in a few days. She excused herself and hurried to the hall to tidy her hair and shake out her gown.

Kate fought to regain some sense of peace as she let Lille and Ghent lead the way from the more open spaces on Castlegate, where the birdsong and the sounds of the river soothed the mind, into the crowded streets of the city center. But the city was a hellhole in summer, hardly a place that might lift her spirits. The heat and the river damp coaxed out all the noxious odors of the trades and the crush of people and animals. She lifted her skirts and wished she had remembered a cloth soaked in lavender to hold up to her nose. But it rarely worked to have Lille’s and Ghent’s leads in one hand, and today she was grateful for their presence to either side, steering the flow of people well away from her.

As she was crossing Ousegate she was hailed by a familiar voice, and turned to find Agnes Dell approaching. Lille and Ghent sniffed in her direction but knew not to get too close – Agnes was skittish around them. The woman looked wretched, hollow-eyed and drained, her borrowed gray gown wrinkled and so tight around her ample breasts and upper arms that Kate could imagine the woman’s discomfort. Dina had hemmed up one of Clara’s gowns for her, but Agnes was much rounder than her benefactor.

“I cannot go back to Dame Hawise’s house, Dame Katherine,” Agnes began as she reached Kate. “I pray you, speak with Dame Eleanor, tell her that Nan is far better seeing to her mother than I am. And she seems to want to be there. She came back to the house this morning, asking whether her man had appeared – he has not – and fretting over the children. And she told me about Hans.” She crossed herself, breathing hard.

So Nan still expected Robin to appear.

The crowd of people flowing to and from the shops and offices on Ouse Bridge parted around them with curious glances.

“I was on my way to the minster deanery,” said Kate. “Where are you going? Home?”

“To the minster to pray for Nan’s wretched mother. And for Hans.”

“Why there?”