The Riverwoman’s Dragon

‘Nor am I.’

Michaelo glanced at Owen’s patch. ‘No, that you are not.’

‘After the warehouse I mean to return to the apothecary.’ Nodding to Michaelo, Owen continued on.

In the warehouse across the way he searched the faces for the one he suspected of beating the midwife, but he was not among the workers.

‘Might be at the staithe. Ship’s come in,’ said the man who had been helpful before. ‘His name is Duggan.’

‘I did not see him there,’ said Owen. ‘Where does he live?’

‘Don’t know, don’t want to know. I keep my distance from trouble.’

In the lane in front of the apothecary a cluster of women hailed Owen, asking whether he had caught the men who had beaten the midwife Edith.

‘We are still searching. But I assure you Dame Edith will make a full recovery.’ He could do nothing about their disappointment except mirror it in his gut.

Inside, Jasper was placing small packages in a woman’s basket, reviewing with her what they were and how she was to use them. Juniper for a protective fog in the house if one of them should fall ill. A poultice to draw the poison from the buboes, a lotion to ease the pain. Yes, he had added the emerald powder as she had requested. A plaster for the chest. A strong syrup for cough. A scented beeswax candle for the bedside. There was more in the packages already placed in the basket before he arrived, far more than they would have the time or presence of mind to use once the sickness struck. But folk traded ideas, and some hoped to use everything possible. As the woman counted out a considerable amount of money, Owen noticed Lucie gesturing to him from behind the beaded curtain separating the shop from the workroom. He bobbed his head to the customer and joined Lucie.

‘Have you made a fortune today?’ he asked.

‘Pestilence is sinfully lucrative for an apothecary,’ said Lucie, ‘but a fortune, no.’

‘Much charity?’ He knew his wife. If the customer could not afford what they needed, she would pretend to tally what they owed and keep a running count, but when – if – they came asking for the total she would shoo them away.

‘A few who could not pay.’ She kissed his cheek and touched his bearded chin. ‘I heard that Guthlac Wolcott is dead, and the burial tomorrow.’

‘From whom?’

‘One of the butchers was praying in the church when a servant came for the priest. He hurried here for more protections from the pestilence. I assured him that Guthlac was not a victim of the Death, that he has been dying a long while. But he was too frightened to be comforted.’

‘May Guthlac rest in peace.’

‘How are Einar and Magda?’

‘She is untouched by the violence. Einar will mend. Will Jasper miss you if you come with me to the kitchen? I have much to tell you.’

As he sat by the fire waiting for Lucie, Owen absently stroked the kitten on his lap. Kate set a bowl of ale beside him. He would eat after he had discussed with Lucie all he had learned since their last long talk. But it was Michaelo who arrived first, pushing back his hood and running his long fingers through the hair that circled his tidy tonsure.

‘At the risk of disrupting your dinner …’ He paused in the doorway.

‘Come, sit, tell me,’ said Owen.

Removing his shoes, Michaelo joined Owen by the fire, holding his hands to the heat, then tucking them into his sleeves. ‘I will not stay long.’

‘You followed Asa?’

‘More than that. After you left, the men on the staithe grew frightened when Jack Fuller failed to reappear, muttering about him being the only one not struck down by illness on that small ship, arguing about whether he seemed ill, none of them willing to go up to see what had happened. So I went. He was on the deck, bent over, breathing hard, his clothes soaked with sweat, his neck hot to the touch. When I called from the ship for someone to come help me take him home, only Asa responded.’

‘She climbed the gangplank with her cane?’

‘She had help. While I debated whether to assist her or stay with Fuller to keep him upright, Janet Fuller hurried forward to assist Asa, calling shame down on the cowering men who were suddenly eager to help. We transported him to his home in Walmgate in a cart borrowed from the staithe, Asa and I leading the donkey, Dame Janet in the cart with her husband and a small chest Jack refused to leave behind.’

Lucie had slipped in while Michaelo told the tale. ‘All the men in his ship are ill?’ she asked.

‘Most are dead.’

‘Deus juva me.’

‘Was Bernard there?’ Owen asked. ‘Will he care for Jack?’

‘Janet promised her husband that her brother would not touch him. Asa and Janet will care for him.’ Michaelo nodded at Owen’s surprise. ‘She said God brought her here at this time for a purpose. Dame Magda had supplied her with what she would need to help those her mother could not.’

‘Despite the beating the other day?’ Lucie asked, taking a seat beside Owen. ‘I pray Bernard does not mistreat her. Unless he has moved out?’

‘I did not see him, but I heard nothing of his moving out.’

‘Perhaps someone should watch the house?’ Lucie suggested. ‘I hope she knows that we will provide anything they require.’