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.
“Sanctuary in Cirencester.”
Berend nodded. “I disliked the plan, but not for the reason you have in mind. It took me west when I meant to go north and east to York, to Merek. I meant to force him to tell me the truth about Rosamund and the child. But Warren offered me a horse if I would ride with him. I owed him my life.”
“He was meeting up with the others?”
“You are asking whether Warren tricked me? I have had long to reflect on that, but I’ve come to no conclusions.”
“Where is he now?”
“Still at St. Mary’s, if he is wise.”
“Why did he not leave with you?”
“The abbot knows me, knows my sins. He permitted me to stay one night, but then I was to ride on. It suited me.” Berend flexed the fingers on his intact hand. “But I rode right into madness, the rabble furious about the fire the Earl of Huntington’s man had set as a distraction, and determined to show their loyalty by hunting down the traitors. Or incited to do so. So many townsmen armed so quickly, so adept at slaughter?”
“You believe there were king’s men leading them.” Elric nodded. “Do you think the abbot knew what you would find in the town? Did Warren?”
“I have wondered how I came to the market square just as the crowd attacked the escaping rebels.” Berend turned his scarred hands over and over in his lap. “They mobbed Salisbury and his men, shouting curses and ‘For King Henry!’ while tearing the men off their horses, seething like flies on a corpse, beating them, stabbing them. I fled for my life – down alleyways, through barns–”
“You were chased?”
“A few broke away and came after me, thinking I was one of the rebels. I left my horse in one of the barns and continued on foot. Lost them. For how long, though? I thought to lie low in a barn. God must have guided me. How else did I choose the very barn in which–” He stopped, as if remembering himself.
“In which Lady Kirkby hid?” Elric asked.
A curt nod. “And her manservant. I did not recognize her at first. I saw a woman perched on a milking stool in the corner, staring at nothing, a man whispering to her – ‘My lady, we must go, we must hasten.’ But we were far from the crowd by then, and she was beyond hearing. When he noticed me, he caught up a pitchfork and came at me. By that time I knew her. I shouted my name, and Dame Katherine’s. ‘Your lady is my mistress’s dear friend. I would not harm her. I pray you–’ I don’t know what convinced him, but he tossed aside the pitchfork before he did me more harm than this eye.”
“God in heaven, he came so close?”
“I was certain I was dead. Or blinded.”
“But you did not run.”
“How did I come to find her? What heavenly agency led me there? I could not run, not seeing how she sat there, holding – it – in her lap, and she had begun to keen.” Berend crossed himself, covered his face, his breathing rough.
Are we animals? Is this what happens to a people when we raise up a king who murders his anointed cousin? Elric pushed the wineskin toward Berend. “Drink.” He wished he had two wineskins. But his companion was more in need.
Berend picked it up, took a long drink. Coughing, he stoppered the skin, wiped his mouth, faced Elric. “Her man fell to his knees before me. ‘My lady has seen such a thing as no wife should ever witness.’ He began to weep. I guessed what it was that she held in her lap. I went to her, knelt to her, asked her what we should do with her husband’s head.” His voice breaking, Berend looked away.
Elric let the silence settle a while, fighting the urge to bombard the man with questions. When Berend’s breathing steadied, Elric permitted himself to ask, “How in the name of all the saints did she escape the crowd with the head?”
“A boy took it. A trophy, holding it over his head and crowing. She rushed after him. Her man said she ran swift as a greyhound, holding up her skirts and running like the wind, he had never seen the like. He found her in the barn, holding the head.”
“And the boy?”
Berend shook his head. “I saw no sign of him. Of course she was soaked in her husband’s blood.”
“So she is here in the city?”
A nod.
“Safe?”
“I believe so.”
“Why did she come here?”
“I asked her where she wished to go and she said it did not matter. I could not leave her. A sleepwalker she was, until we were close to the city. She seemed to wake then, talking about her husband, talking, talking, like bees buzzing in her head she could not stop talking about him. His love of truth. His belief in basic goodness.”
“Did Merek’s death have anything to do with the Epiphany Rising?” Elric asked.
“Epiphany Rising? Is that what they call it? An ignoble plot it was, not an uprising.” Berend rubbed his head. “It was madness. But to be slaughtered as they were … God rest their souls.”
Elric tried another approach. “How did you come to possess the casket?”
“Merek gave me the casket on my return. He said I was the only man he could imagine making it across the border with it. The arrival of Parr and Sawyer frightened him, you see. They’d been in Salisbury’s household, then Rosamund’s, then cast out, accused of theft, abuse of a maidservant, and spying on Salisbury when he visited. Merek believed they might have heard the scheme to return Richard to the throne. He said there could be no other explanation for their arrival in York. And they clearly seemed to know of a casket of great value.”
Parr and Sawyer spied on Salisbury? Elric could offer them to Sir Peter as even better informants about the uprising than Berend. “What did he intend to do?”
“Run. Lionel Neville was arranging Merek’s passage on a trading ship leaving the following day.”
Neville had failed to mention that to Katherine. “Why would Lionel agree to that?”
“I don’t know.”
“But why would Salisbury entrust the jewels to such a man?”
“Merek Lacy was Rosamund’s brother.”
It began to make sense. “Hence his determination to convince you the child was yours. So you would protect his sister and nephew. And you believe him? How old is the boy?”
“Old enough to be mine. Or so they say.”
“His name?”
“Rosamund named him after Salisbury, hoping he would believe the child his.”
“John? Berend, how likely is it–”
“A man with such sins as I carry leaps at any chance for redemption.”
Most men justified such a past as little different from battle. Eliminating the enemy. “So you’re proposing Parr and Sawyer murdered Merek before they had stolen the casket. Why would they do that?”
“I can’t solve this for you. All I can tell you is that evening Merek took me to the church where he’d hidden the casket, and then he went on to meet with Neville about his passage. Have you heard enough to free me?”
Had he? Elric wanted to believe Berend, for Katherine’s sake. But could he convince the sheriffs and the king’s men?
“I need to find Parr and Sawyer. If I can convince the sheriffs that you are the one to flush them out, they might release you into my custody. But the king’s men– I don’t know that I can convince them. Perhaps if you handed over Lady Kirkby–”
“No. Even if I knew where she is – which I do not – I would not hand her over.”
“You said you knew she was safe. How do you know that?”
Berend looked away. “With all searching for her, would we not hear if she had been found?” he asked.
Elric might have accepted that answer had Berend not averted his eyes. He did not like this. Was it possible that Katherine had been hiding Lady Margery all along?