A Murdered Peace

The arrangement of the buildings around the graveyard in St. Helen’s Square allowed sufficient morning light for Kate to make out a dozen men in the livery of Ralph Neville, Earl of Westmoreland. They stood in groups of four, one in the tavern yard, two in the square, Douglas, Wulf, and Stephen presiding. Elric and Kevin stood near the door of the tavern, in heated discussion with an elderly nobleman who had the bearing of a seasoned soldier. A younger man in the king’s livery stood to one side, shifting his weight from foot to foot as if impatient to move on. Sir Peter Angle and Captain Crawford, Kate presumed. She took her time walking toward them, straining to hear the matter of their disagreement. Bess Merchet leaned on her cane in the doorway. Noticing Kate, she nodded her head in greeting, but quickly returned her attention to the men. She, too, was listening.

“I should hope you would have already sounded the alarm, Sir Elric,” the elderly knight was saying, “encouraged the citizens of York to inform you of any strangers, questionable behavior, treasonous speech.”

“They are already uneasy,” Elric said, his gloved hands in fists behind his back, his words clipped. “Look how they’ve congregated at the edge of the square. They have heard what happened in other towns, the mobs taking it upon themselves to execute those rumored to be traitors. None of us want a repeat of that lawless violence.”

“It was effective,” said the old knight’s impatient companion.

“Your captain lacks experience, Sir Peter. I will not entrust my men to him,” said Elric.

“Then I must continue my investigations without your assistance.” The old knight bowed stiffly.

Kate did not linger, slipping past them, glad she had not brought the hounds and called attention to herself.

Old Bess motioned her into the tavern and waved her through to her quiet space.

“I thought Sir Elric would be discrete about the additional men,” Kate said.

“That was Wulf’s mistake,” said Bess. “Sir Elric’s orders had been to have the men arrive a few at a time, without fuss. But they all descended upon the tavern shortly after dawn. Before Sir Elric had returned. We’ve had all we can do to feed them. Heaven knows where they will all sleep tonight. I’ve not the rooms to spare.”

“Sir Elric was about so early? Before the men arrived?”

“Early? No. Late. He was out all the night.”

“Where?”

“He would not say.” The elderly woman busied herself folding some bedding. “He trusts me with what he learned from Berend but not that.” She shook out a partially folded sheet with a loud snap. Kate judged it best not to offer assistance. “Leaving Berend in the castle.” Snap. “Fearful lest Sir Elric and all his men are not enough against the king’s men? Have you seen Sir Peter? Rheumatic wheezing, a shoulder that barely moves. Pah.”

“He sounded eager to cause a riot.”

“So he’s a fool as well?” Snap.

“Did Sir Elric seem rested when he appeared this morning?”

“Rested?” A shake of her head, her ribbons bouncing. “No more than you do.” Bess looked Kate up and down. “Perhaps not quite so wilted as you. Who kept you awake?”

“I did.”

A nod. “I trust you were not doubting Berend’s innocence?”

“No. But at present we have only his word. We have no proof. To convince the sheriffs and Sir Peter we need more.”

An impatient sniff. “Wulf should be the one in chains.”

“Sir Elric assures me that Berend is no longer in chains,” said Kate.

“Small comfort.”

“I agree.” Kate settled into a chair. “I need to find out from Berend what Sir Elric left out of his account.”

Bess frowned at her. “You do not trust that Elric told you all?”

“I know that he did not, at Berend’s request.”

“Ah. You will tell me what you learn?”

“Of course.” Kate told her about her conversation with Pendleton.

“It is time you speak with Berend.”

Kate agreed. “Might Elric have spent the night guarding Berend?”

“Only if Berend is sleeping out in the snow. Sir Elric’s leggings were soaked and his cloak heavy with damp.”

“It is a long walk from the castle.”

The taverner slapped a folded blanket onto the table.

Kate let it be, but she did wonder where Elric had spent the night. Was it possible he had stood watch on Jocasta’s house? Or hers?

“He might have warned me so many were coming, but men, they never consider such things.” Bess set her work aside and reached for Kate’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Forgive my temper. I see how all this weighs on you. I want to help, but there is little I can do. You must permit Sir Elric to bear the burden of protecting Berend and Lady Kirkby.”

“They are my friends.”

“Of course. But he meant to prove himself in this. Still does.”

“Has he told you …?”

“That you have hidden her all this while?” A nod. “Your distrust cut him deep.” Hands on hips, Bess shook her head at Kate. “Do not pretend you were not aware of his feelings for you. That he should choose such a means of wooing might well amuse you – it does me. My Tom would be shaking his head and assuring me that I have it all wrong. What man would woo a woman in such wise, he would ask. But mark me, I have walked this earth a good long while and I know a man in love when I see one. You let Sir Elric help, and I thought you understood. But what you kept from him – you fettered him from the start. And me.”

“It was not my secret to share.”

“And then it was.”

“Because I need his help.”

“By the rood, I am wasting time talking to myself.” Bess bent to her work, dismissing Kate.