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.
Henry of Lancaster is no king to her, Geoff whispered.
“Forgive me, but I must know what happened,” said Kate, softly. “Tell me.”
Now Margery lifted the bowl of ale and drank a little. “It is an ugly tale,” she said.
“I must hear it,” said Kate.
“Of course.” Margery crossed herself and bowed her head in silent prayer. Then, in a voice devoid of all emotion, she began, chronicling Thomas’s return from France, where he had attempted to convince Henry of Lancaster to invite his cousin Richard, then King of England, to a meeting at which they might discuss their differences. If not a meeting of the two cousins, then their representatives. He had been granted a hearing, but the day before it was to take place Thomas learned that Henry had sailed for England. Her husband returned to England defeated, obsessively recounting to Margery each failed attempt to reason with Henry, agonizing over what he might have done instead. He could turn his mind to nothing else. It was madness. And then a guest mentioned that Henry had fallen ill during Christmas festivities at Windsor, and Thomas saw an opportunity. “I might go to him, offer him the leech my excellent physician recommends. Then, when he is on the mend, I might broach the subject of his cousin, how he deserved better treatment, some of his family with him, visits from friends.”
He presumed much, Geoff noted.
From the first Margery feared the plan, but Thomas would not be dissuaded. First, he went to Pontefract, gathering information about Richard’s circumstances, whether the rumors were correct that he was cut off from all friendly companionship, solitary, in a steward’s chamber, hardly appropriate for a former king, with poor rations and no physician to see to his health. Richard saw only his prison guards, men of noble family who had every cause to hate him.
“Thomas was incensed. Richard might have lacked much as king, but he had been anointed with holy oil. He was the son of a prince and the grandson of a king and this was no way to treat him,” said Margery. “The letter I received at this point chilled my heart. Thomas spoke out to Richard’s jailers, chiding them on their treatment of an anointed king, and asked to visit him and reassure him, permit his leech to examine him and ensure that he was receiving at least his basic needs.”
Kate could see why the king might think him Richard’s man.
“He himself planted the seed of King Henry’s distrust,” said Margery, still in the flat tone. “I already feared for him, but this – for a grown man to act out of such innocence. It is not credited. Of course his behavior would be suspect. He would be seen as cunning, manipulating his adversaries. And what could I do? Even had I been able to reach him before he approached the king, he would not have heeded my warning. He did not believe that we are born already marked by sin, you see. He was certain that to be made in God’s image meant that we are all good, that we err because of circumstances, but that such error is not inevitable. He believed that King Henry, to have gained the throne, must live in God’s grace.”
So would say many churchmen. Kate’s own uncle took part in Henry’s crowning. But she wondered at the naïveté of Thomas Kirkby. To succeed he would have needed to match cunning with cunning. How had Margery not seen that? It was not like her to be so blind to others’ follies.
Her love was so strong she did what he asked, simply for love of him? Geoff proposed.
Kate had not thought Margery a woman to act simply on ideals. Was such a love possible? If so, how immense her loss.
She poured more ale and offered the bowl to Margery, who took it with thanks, but let it rest in her hands.
“Thomas reached Windsor before the king had word of his visit to Pontefract. He was warmly received, and the following day his leech received permission to examine Henry. While the leech was consulting with the king’s physician, Thomas enjoyed the pleasures of the season with the king’s family and friends.”
The leech diagnosed the king with humors too heated and dry, a common result of the spicy foods and abundant wine served during Christmas festivities. With the blessing of the king’s physician, the leech prepared a tonic for Henry that would ease the cramping and cool his system. Though still the king did not sleep well, the physician assured Thomas that was a chronic problem having nothing to do with the stomach ailment.
But Lord Kirkby had by then realized the state of King Henry’s mind, how he saw enmity in the mildest disagreement, a threat to his hold on the crown in every raised brow. As soon as Thomas understood that his leech’s remedy could do little more than calm the king’s indigestion, he took his leave, fearing that his attempts at reconciliation would be seen as threats.
Too late, Geoff whispered.
Sometime after Thomas departed, one of the royal retainers arrived at the castle to warn the king of the plot against him and his sons. He implied that Thomas’s visit to Pontefract was a key part of the plan.
“If I ever learn who condemned my husband, accusing him of an act so vile– Another man, a better man than Henry, would have dismissed the accusation. But he is so poisoned by his own ambition he cannot trust that anyone would approach him without guile. He sees not the good in men. He has poisoned the land.” Her lips pressed together, Margery mirrored the outrage she expressed, her color high, her eyes snapping.
“Perhaps you should rest,” said Kate. “I will return later.”
“No. I will finish.” Margery folded and refolded her hands in her lap, as if the activity calmed her. “When the king heard of Thomas’s visit to Pontefract and his accusations about Richard’s mistreatment, he flew into a rage and called Thomas a traitor, declared that he had meant to poison him.” A little sob. “Thomas, Thomas,” she whispered, “too late you saw your folly.”
Folly indeed.
Hush, Geoff. “He arrived home safely?” Kate asked.
“He came to me in Cirencester, where I had gone to be with my sister, who has not been well. Dear God, I fear for them, Katherine, all my kin. This king – he will murder us all before he is finished.” Margery’s voice shook.
“Cirencester,” Kate whispered. “Kent and Salisbury fled to Cirencester.” And they had been beaten to death by a mob. Thomas Kirkby as well?
God help you, Kate, you are harboring a traitor, Geoff hissed in her head.
The shadows beneath Margery’s eyes seemed to deepen. “Yes, they did. But Thomas was not in their company. You must believe that.”
What did it matter what Kate thought if the king believed otherwise? But Margery searched Kate’s face for reassurance. “Believe your husband part of the uprising against the king? No, I cannot believe it of Thomas,” said Kate. “But you have said yourself that King Henry turned on Thomas. You say you were followed to York. If his men find you, how will you prove his innocence? Your innocence?”
“I should not need to!”
Kate took a deep breath. “So Thomas came to Cirencester and they came soon after?”
“A few days later.”
Geoff groaned.
“Do you know anything about how Kent and Salisbury came to be in Cirencester? Did they have kin in the town? One of the priests? An abbot who might give them sanctuary?”
Margery took a sip of the ale, then set the bowl down and composed herself. “Clearly they were fleeing west,” she said. “Perhaps to Wales? Followed the Thames to the River Churn and turned north?” She frowned down at the bowl of ale. “The abbot did ride forth attempting to quiet the crowd during the attack. My sister told me that afterward. She said that Abbot John wept for the souls not only of the victims, but of the townspeople. To butcher Christians, their countrymen, men of noble blood.”