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.
Elric went to the door, listened. The bailiff to whom he had spoken was giving the jailer hurried instructions, too muffled to understand. Another voice interrupted. Familiar … A knock.
“Mistress Clifford has sent her man with information for you, Sir Elric,” the jailer called out.
Matt. It was Matt’s voice Elric had recognized.
“Let him in.”
As the door swung open, the bailiff stepped forward and bowed to Sir Elric, this time with due deference. “My lord sheriff sends his greetings, and wishes to know what you have discovered regarding the prisoner’s injuries.”
“He has no fresh wounds, which tells me that you are holding the wrong man,” said Elric. “The murderer is still at large. Tell the lord sheriff that I want Berend released into my charge. I believe he can help me with the search.”
The bailiff looked doubtful, but when Elric barked, “Go deliver my request!” the man bowed out of the room and rushed off.
Matt took his place, the jailer bowing to Elric and shutting the door behind the new arrival.
Sweat glistened on the young man’s face. “I’ve come as quickly as I might, Sir Elric.” He beamed at Berend. “It is good to see you.”
Berend nodded to him.
“Dame Katherine has news from William Frost that she says you need to hear, Sir Elric.”
“Come, take a seat.” He indicated the bench.
Matt settled down, shaking his head when Berend held out the wineskin. “The lord sheriff took pity on me – I was that out of breath – and he gave me a cup of ale.” He quickly delivered his news. “Dame Katherine hopes that this will be of use.”
Elric watched Berend as Matt spoke. About the king’s men he seemed concerned, asking whether they had proof that Lady Kirkby was in the city, looking relieved when Matt shook his head. Elric knew Sir Peter, and thought the “captain” accompanying him might be his household retainer, given a more impressive title in order to add prestige to the team. That the king had sent an elderly knight more renowned for his piety and his ability to bend with the wind rather than for his military prowess suggested to Elric that King Henry’s men were spread so thin he had been reduced to sending someone not up to the task.
When Berend flinched at the mention of Pontefract Castle, Elric interrupted Matt to ask, “You were unaware you had been seen?”
“I must have been careless,” said Berend, making a noise in his throat like a growl. “God help me, did I lead the king’s men to the gathering in Oxford? Am I to blame for so many deaths?” He bowed his head.
“It was not the king’s men who killed most of the rebels but the townsfolk, incensed by the fire the rebels set to draw away the folk surrounding the inn, so they might escape.”
“So they say.”
“You dispute it?”
“I did not linger to find out.”
Berend looked so aggrieved, Elric thought to give him a moment. He asked Matt if he had any more news. But the lad had nothing more.
“Did Dame Katherine wish you to wait for a reply?”
The young man glanced at Berend, back to Elric. “She did not say. Her concern was that you should know what she had learned as soon as might be.”
Elric looked to Berend. “Do you mind if Matt stays and hears your tale?”
Berend rubbed his bald pate with both hands, looked sidewise at the messenger. “It is not that I doubt you, Matt. I would trust you with my life. But there are things I must tell Sir Elric that – we must consider how to relate them to Dame Katherine.”
To his credit, the young man gave a nod. “I understand. Shall I step outside and wait? Or would you prefer me to go back across the city?” Sitting back, Matt doffed his hat and ran a hand through his hair, still damp from his race here, as he turned to Elric. “And you, what would you have me do, Sir Elric?”
He knew precisely what he wished Matt to do, but looked to Berend, who shrugged and said, “Whether or not Matt awaits you without is not my concern.”
Elric nodded. “I would have you stay without, Matt, keeping your ears pricked for any other visitors. I am concerned that the king’s men might be too curious about our business. If you hear anything of that nature, rap on the door.”
Matt bobbed his head, replaced his hat, and rose. “I am at your service.”
“I will rest easier knowing you are on guard, alert for trouble.” Elric knocked on the door, and, as the jailer opened it, explained that Matt would be waiting with him.
“Glad of his company,” said the jailer as Matt joined him.
When the door had closed again, Elric settled back on the bench. Berend stretched out his legs with a groan. The burden of guilt he now carried was a heavy weight for a man, that he might have led the king’s men to the plotters in Oxford. No matter that what they had intended was abhorrent, to die without a chance for confession, absolution, was nothing any Christian wished on another. To ease Berend’s burden was not in Elric’s nor any man’s power. But he might ease his physical circumstances.
“The cold and damp on that injured leg – I hope to get you to a warm space before a new day dawns,” said Elric. “Why don’t we begin with the casket of jewels?”
“Are they safe?”
“They are.”
Berend seemed to consider, examining a spot on the far wall, shaking his head. “To understand you must know what came before.”
“I’m listening.”
“Merek came to York with a message for me from the Earl of Salisbury. I was to undertake a mission for him, to Pontefract Castle. He called it a debt I owed to his father, for abandoning my post and betraying his trust.”
Elric would have told the man he owed no such debt. He guessed Berend did as well. But he asked only, “When precisely did Merek arrive in York?”
Berend shook himself, as if casting out a demon. “Several weeks before Christmas. I was to travel to Oxford, where they were assembling. He assured me I would be back in York by Christmas. The earl presumed I would agree, no questions. Arrogant bastard.” Berend muttered a curse.
“You did not go to him at once.”
“No. I had no intention of answering such a summons.” Berend paused, leaning back, pressing his hands to his face for a moment, then sat up, hands on thighs. “So Merek invoked the name of Rosamund Lacy, Salisbury’s mistress.”
Ah. She of the posey ring? Something about the way Berend spoke the name, soft, sorrowful, prompted Elric to ask who she was to him.
“We were lovers, once.”
“This is what you do not know how to tell Katherine, about Rosamund Lacy?”
“Part of it. God help me, I am not the man she believes me to be.”
“You met Rosamund in Montagu’s household?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me how you came to be in his service.”
“There is little to tell. My parents ran a tavern, expected me to continue working for them, but I ran away to war. I knew my way around knives, hunting bows, axes. My strength and speed came to the attention of my captains. Baron Montagu noticed me. One of his men suggested me for his household.” He glanced up at Elric. “I was grateful I had landed somewhere. It was a modest household. He came to know me, liked to talk to me.”
Much the same as Elric’s rise in the earl’s household. Westmoreland had found him a good listener. And discrete. “And you met Rosamund?”
Berend took a swig of the brandywine. “She was a servingmaid for Montagu’s daughters. Bold, she made a point of being near when I was alone. We talked, kissed, became lovers. It seemed to be her intention, but I– Did I love her? I never stopped to ask myself.” He paused, head back, staring up at the ceiling. “I wanted her. Simple as that.” He looked at Elric. “I did not have her long. She caught the eye of my lord’s son. When Montagu saw how it was between his son and Rosamund, he offered me land so that I might wed her and take her away. It was for me to ask her. I did. With half a heart. She refused me, saying she wanted to stay in the noble household, not be a farmer’s wife. Montagu thanked me for trying, assured me there was no honor lost and the land was mine in any case. But– I was disgusted with myself. He had such faith in me and I had failed him. Was relieved to have failed him. I fell into a darkness – drank, fought – and when I saw the disappointment in my lord’s eyes, I ran away in the night.”