A Murdered Peace

The storm had come on suddenly just before sunset. Outside the guesthouse hall snow swirled in a dizzying dance. The wind was picking up. Water pooled beneath the fur-lined cloak Kate had hung on a peg beside the open door, and she stood near the fire circle drying the hem of her skirt. Would Sir Elric brave the storm for this supper? She had no doubt that his men would come, they were eager to celebrate their fellow’s return to duty, and they need just step round the corner to the guesthouse. But their captain would be coming from Sheriff Hutton Castle, which meant riding through the Forest of Galtres in such a wind, and after sunset. An imprudent journey in such weather, and Sir Elric was a man whose every move, every word was measured. The celebration of Kevin’s recovery, however welcome, was hardly enough to bring his captain out on such a night. Still, if Elric had set out early, he might have reached the city before the storm. Kate hoped so, for Kevin’s sake. And for hers.

That she was concerned for Sir Elric’s welfare and looked forward to his presence spoke to the degree to which their partnership was evolving into mutual respect, perhaps even friendship. During Kevin’s sojourn in Kate’s home his accounts of his life in the Earl of Westmoreland’s household had provided much insight into both the earl’s and his captain’s character. She had learned that the earl, a Neville, cousin to her late husband, was as much an opportunist as she had guessed, but that the knight was a man of conscience and strong loyalties. She liked that in a man. Whether or not she agreed with his policies, she could at least eventually know Elric, predict how he might react to a given circumstance. But she was wary – Kevin worshipped the ground on which Sir Elric walked, which surely colored his impressions.

Still, she could not deny that Elric had kept his end of the bargain she had made with him, keeping a protective eye on her mother and the sisters in her Martha House, and ensuring that her brother-in-law Lionel kept his distance. It had been some time since Lionel Neville attempted to interfere in Kate’s concerns. In return, Kate had fulfilled her promise to keep Ralph Neville, Earl of Westmoreland, informed of the temper in York regarding Richard’s abdication and the ascension to the throne of Henry of Lancaster, and had returned certain incriminating letters – though not before having a friar copy them, including their seals, in case she needed to defend herself against the powerful earl, now beloved of the new king.

It helped matters that Sir Elric was the very embodiment of knighthood in his physique, his skill at arms, and his courtly manner, as well as being one of the most handsome men she had ever set eyes on. Too bad his arrogant self-regard spoiled it.

But not always … When they laughed together she saw a vulnerable, quite likable side to him.

Is that why Berend had left without a word? She’d had good reason not to tell him of her agreement with Sir Elric at first. Helping Kate chase down an assassin the previous summer had brought to the surface memories of darker days, a past for which Berend had done much penance and from which he had hoped he might redeem his soul. When Kate had sought his advice about how such assassins operated she had unwittingly plunged Berend into a darkness, seemingly overwhelmed by his memories of hunting down the enemies of the powerful. By the time Kate realized that it might be a long while before he walked clear of his shadows, she had not known how to tell him about her bargain with Elric. So it was that Berend asked how she could be laughing with the man she swore she could never trust, never befriend.