A Twisted Vengeance
- Автор: Робб Кэндис
- Серия: A Kate Clifford Mystery #2
- Год: 2017
- Язык: английский
- Год: Pegasus Books
- ISBN: 9781681774756
- Жанр: Исторические детективы
Электронная книга - «A Twisted Vengeance». Краткое содержание книги:
As the fourteenth century comes to a close, York seethes on the brink of civil war – and young widow Kate Clifford, struggling to keep her businesses afloat, realizes that her mother is harboring a dangerous secret…
1399. York is preparing for civil war, teeming with knights and their armed retainers summoned for the city’s defense. Henry of Lancaster is rumored to have landed on the northeast coast of England, not so far from York, intent on reclaiming his inheritance – an inheritance which his cousin, King Richard, has declared forfeit.
With the city unsettled and rife with rumors, Eleanor Clifford’s abrupt return to York upon the mysterious death of her husband in Strasbourg is met with suspicion in the city. Her daughter Kate is determined to keep her distance, but it will not be easy – Eleanor has settled next door with the intention of establishing a house of beguines, or poor sisters. When one of the beguines is set upon in the night by an intruder, Kate knows that for the sake of her own reputation and the safety of her young wards she must investigate.
From the first, Eleanor is clearly frightened yet maintains a stubborn silence. The brutal murder of one of Eleanor’s servants leads Kate to suspect that her mother’s troubles have followed her from Strasbourg. Is she secretly involved in the political upheaval? When one of her wards is frightened by a too-curious stranger, Kate is desperate to draw her mother out of her silence before tragedy strikes her own household.
The abbot cleared his throat. “Sir Elric, Westmoreland’s man” – a disapproving twist of his full upper lip – “commanded silence on the matter of Brother Martin’s patient. I am pleased that His Grace’s letter relieves me of that order.” A little smile. “It galled me to support the captain of that traitor to our good King Richard.”
“Why would he request your silence?”
“They are soldiers. Spies, more like, sneaking about the city watching the soldiers mustering in support of King Richard. I presumed Sir Elric considers his men vulnerable, liable to be attacked. With Kevin so weak, helpless …” The expressive brows rose. “I assured him that although St. Mary’s Abbey is not officially a sanctuary, most Christians put aside their weapons on abbey grounds, and thus Kevin is safer here than out in the city. But my argument did not convince him.”
“And he did not give you the courtesy of an explanation? Why no one must know Kevin was here? Why he wished to remove him?” Kate asked.
“No, he did not. He said that he would continue to check on his man, and move him as soon as possible.”
“We noticed at least two of his men standing guard outside the abbey gates and wondered why,” said Kate. “I will inform the archbishop of Sir Elric’s behavior.”
Abbot Thomas shook his head. “There is no need. When they appeared I sent a message to His Grace at once.”
Kate did not like that. “His Grace knew all of it? Elric’s threat? The men involved? The extent of Kevin’s injuries?”
A nod. “I assumed that is why he provided you with this introduction and instructed me to tell you all. That you will arrange our protection.” He glanced from Kate to Berend. “I see I was mistaken.”
“I will think how we might help,” said Kate. She turned back to Brother Martin. “How was Kevin injured? Has he told you anything?”
A nod. “I regret I said nothing when Berend was here earlier, but as Abbot Thomas explained …” He shrugged. “Kevin thinks he was stabbed by the man who had dragged the sister out of the Martha House. It might have begun as a small wound, but he fought with his attacker and was then kicked and punched by some others. How he managed to cross the city to the lodgings of his comrades …” Martin shook his head.
“We find the strength to save ourselves,” Berend said softly.
Martin studied Berend’s face, glanced at his hand. “Ah, of course you would know.”
“I am glad to hear he is able to speak,” said Kate.
“Now and then. And he talks in his fever dreams. He worries about the sister. His comrades had assured him that she is recovered.” He glanced up, smiled at Kate’s nod. “I listen, hoping to learn something that might help me heal him.”
“How is Kevin now?” Kate asked.
Brother Martin rose. “Poor enough that I feel I must return. Berend is welcome to sit with him a little while.” He bowed to Kate. “Some of my brethren are in the infirmary, else I would welcome you as well.”
“I trust Berend to be my eyes and ears, Brother Martin. And now, before you depart, Lille and Ghent would be honored to make your acquaintance.” She signaled the hounds to rise and approach the infirmarian.
He touched their heads, then crouched to meet them eye to eye. “A pair of your cousins once saved my life. They leapt on my assailants without hesitation, bringing them down so that my father and I might–” He glanced up, as if remembering himself. Thanked Kate, rubbed Lille’s and Ghent’s ears, and excused himself, holding the door open for Berend.
As the two men left the room, Thomas chuckled. “It is ever so with brothers who take the tonsure after full lives out in the world. Forever half-wild, their memories confound them.”
Kate liked Brother Martin. So did Lille and Ghent, who stood gazing at the door for a few moments before resettling.
“Forgive me for my hasty departure yesterday,” said Brother Martin.
Berend appreciated the apology. “You had your orders. Do you think Kevin will live?”
“It is in God’s hands,” said the monk, smiling down at his sandaled feet as they walked along a garden path that connected the abbot’s house with the infirmary.
“You smile?”
“I hear my teacher’s voice when I say such a thing in this garden. For it was here that Brother Wulfstan walked with me when my heart was heavy.”
“You were fortunate to have such a guide.”
“I was. I would have taken his name when I took the cloth, but it came to me that I should take the name of the man who saved my life – the first time.” A little laugh. “A pirate and a knave, and one of my dearest friends.”
Berend was quiet, letting the monk enjoy his memory, inhaling the fragrance of the garden, clearing his mind so that he might give Dame Katherine as much detail as possible. After what she had learned at the deanery, he deemed it even more important that he keep his eyes and mind open. Nothing might be as it seemed. Nothing.
In the infirmary, a screen gave Kevin some privacy and kept the heat of the brazier in his corner, though on the other side of his bed a window let in heat of a different sort. Flushed and sweating, the man lay beneath a tent of blankets. He lay so still, his breathing so shallow, that Brother Martin leaned down to listen and to feel the breath on his cheek. Nodded.
“He is still with us.”
An elderly monk sat beside the bed, nodding over his prayer beads. Martin lay his hand on his elder’s shoulder and leaned down to say in a soft voice, “Brother Henry, you are relieved.”
A sputter, a confused glance at Berend, some alarm, then awareness. “Ah. Good, Martin. I fear I am of little use in this heat.”
“No matter. If Kevin had thrashed or called out, you would have awakened.” Martin assisted the elderly monk in rising.
“God go with you,” Henry murmured as he shuffled past Berend.
Martin lifted the covers to show how they protected the wound. Hazel wands had been fashioned into an arch over the man’s torso so that the blankets warmed but did not touch him. Blood seeped through the bandage that covered Kevin’s stomach. The man stirred, muttered something unintelligble. His eyelids flickered.
“Might he speak to me?” Berend asked.
“You are welcome to sit here awhile, see if he fully wakes.”
Berend moved the chair directly beneath the opened window, for the screened area was so warm and he did not wish to miss a chance to talk to Kevin by falling asleep; he’d had little sleep the previous night. This man had fought the intruder, might have recognized him or those who’d spirited him away. From his position Berend could see past the screen to a table at which Brother Martin worked, mixing herbs, writing notes in a journal. His motions were easy, assured. Berend wondered about the monk’s life before the monastery. Trained as an archer, he had said, yet when Berend had first come for healing, Brother Martin had told him he’d been an apothecary out in the world. He was tall, broad-shouldered. What would move Berend to leave the world and enter a monastery?
“Berend?” Kevin blinked, licked his lips.
“Yes.” It was a good sign, that he could so quickly recall a name.
“The sisters on Hertergate – they are safe?”
“Yes.”
“My comrades. I asked them to protect them.”
“Ah, that is why they keep watch. But there is no need, Kevin. We are taking care of them, and Dame Eleanor’s retainer, Griffin, is sleeping in the kitchen.”
Brother Martin joined them, apologizing for the interruption. “But Kevin will be thirsty, am I right?” He looked at the man, who licked his lips again but held up his hand to wait.
“I have tried to remember more. The man who dragged the sister from the house,” said Kevin. “We fought. He stabbed me. Then others came. Kicked me, pulled me away from him. Soldiers. From Toft Green. They knew him. Called him Robin. Said they knew he would be trouble. They took him away.” He closed his eyes, breathing hard. “I didn’t understand. Why take him?”