The Service of the Dead
- Автор: Робб Кэндис
- Серия: A Kate Clifford Mystery #1
- Год: 2016
- Язык: английский
- Год: Pegasus Books
- ISBN: 978-1-68177-175-5
- Жанр: Исторические детективы
Электронная книга - «The Service of the Dead». Краткое содержание книги:
Expertly recreating the social and political upheavals of late medieval Europe and the increasing power of the wealthy merchant class, acclaimed author Candace Robb introduces a new series starring Kate Clifford, a woman forged on the warring northern marches of fourteenth century England.
Political unrest permeates York at the cusp of the fifteenth century, as warring factions take sides on who should be the rightful king – Richard II or his estranged, powerful cousin in exile, Henry Bolingbroke. Independent minded twenty-year-old Kate Clifford is struggling to dig out from beneath the debt left by her late husband. Determined to find a way to be secure in her own wealth and establish her independence in a male dominated society, Kate turns one of her properties near the minster into a guest house and sets up a business. In a dance of power, she also quietly rents the discreet bedchambers to the wealthy, powerful merchants of York for nights with their mistresses.
But the brutal murder of a mysterious guest and the disappearance of his companion for the evening threatens all that Kate has built. Before others in town hear word of a looming scandal, she must call upon all of her hard-won survival skills to save herself from ruin.
“Be silent, do as I say, and you will not be hurt,” she whispered in the girl’s ear. Keeping her ears pricked for sound, Kate walked them slowly down toward the water. She gambled that Sam would be busy restraining the dogs, so she need take only Andrew. She thought through how to let go of the girl and reach for her axe in a smooth movement, take him by surprise.
A rustle in the brush. She stopped, held her breath. A cat streaked past. Running away, not toward. Could be Sam with the dogs who spooked it, could be Andrew. Kate stood still, a firm grip on the wriggling girl, getting her bearings. A creeping in the underbrush. Close. Closer. She pushed the girl down and sideways, kicking her so she rolled down the hill. A form broke from the underbrush, hesitated. Kate aimed her axe just above the knee. A startled yelp. As the man lost his balance she caught his arms and yanked, bringing him down.
“Mother of God!” he howled.
The telltale r. It was Andrew. Good.
The dogs whimpered somewhere to her left. Kate remembered an old stone building near the water, masked by underbrush, where Lille and Ghent once cornered a young fox. She dragged the hobbled Andrew toward it, thanking God it was not far – she was strong, but he was heavy. The girl caught up as Kate felt a door behind her. Using her back to push it open, Kate dropped Andrew’s arms and kicked him so he turned onto the axe with a shriek. She yanked the girl on top of him and used their confusion to drop and roll into the hut, knocking Sam down in the doorway and slicing his arm with her knife. He cried out. Away to the dogs who were plunging crazily. Their leashes were tied to an iron bar in a window opening and, as she’d guessed, their muzzles were on. Damnably clever Sam. She needed them off so the dogs could bite and tear. She was fumbling with Lille’s muzzle when Andrew came for her. A cry of pain in the doorway – Sam? – and Jennet was there, launching herself at Andrew, knocking him to the floor, pressing his face into the ground, giving Kate enough time to succeed in removing Lille’s muzzle and order her to catch the others. Ghent’s muzzle was easier to open, and he was quick to follow, pinning Sam down. By then the girl was gone, Lille in pursuit.
Andrew reared, shaking Jennet off, but he could not stand. Kate yanked him into the light filtering in the barred window, stumbling a little. She hoped he, Sam, and the girl were sufficiently subdued that she did not need to test how much strength she had left.
“Murdering Clifford bitch, get the axe out of my leg.” Andrew howled as he tried to do it himself. His right arm did not do what he wanted.
She must have pulled it out of joint. Good. She crouched beside him, took hold of the axe, nodding to Jennet who moved to hold down his legs, and pulled.
Andrew barked with the pain. Ghent answered.
Sam cursed and ordered Ghent off his chest. “You would bite me?” he cried. The dogs were trained not to bite down unless she signaled, or she was down, but Sam did not know that. She had not shared that part of their training with him. God be thanked she had not been a complete fool about him.
A scream outside, and Berend ducked into the shed, the girl tucked under one arm. “She is a fighter, but Lille subdued her.”
He stepped aside to let Lille trot into the room. She immediately went to Sam and growled and snapped, then came to sit beside Kate, glaring at Andrew.
Kate rubbed Lille’s ears, thanking her.
“You always were more comfortable in the stable than in the house,” Andrew wheezed as he tried to shift all weight off the wounded leg. “Cruel to keep fine hunting dogs in the city.”
“You are as ugly as I remember, Andrew Caverton,” Kate said.
“Thanks to your brothers, Kitty Kitty Puss Puss.”
The old taunt had Kate fingering the axe.
Steady, Kate, you have him. Learn something before you gut him.
So you are here. Proud of me, are you?
As ever.
As if he were a guest in her hall, Kate asked Andrew what brought him to York after all this time.
“What would you say if I told you it was your mother’s pious preaching that woke the beast?”
His answer strayed so far from what she had expected that Kate was at a loss for a retort. The girl began to whimper. Berend eased her down. She lunged toward Kate. Lille went for her, but Jennet grabbed the girl and hoisted her onto her lap, pinning her arms to her side. With a grunt, Andrew leaned forward and swatted the girl’s hat, knocking it off. Thick dark hair tumbled over her slender shoulders. Lille growled.
“She is proud of that hair. Remind you of someone, Kitty Kitty with the raven’s wings? She’s your niece, Petra. Walter’s girl.”
“My brother has a daughter?”
“Why do you think he lost the hand? He wooed my sister Mary, used her, flung her away. Twelve years old, she was, same as you. Sent away, to the north, to family, my poor sister, and there she died. Too young to give birth. Aye, Mary died, but Petra survived to remind us, ever remind us. And then the Clifford men closed round you, protecting their princess, Kitty Kitty Puss Puss, fearing what we might do to you, that we might be as cruel as your Walter. We almost succeeded.”
I knew she’d been sent away, but I thought it was to torment Walter. Did you know about this, Geoff? That she was with child?
I guessed, but only later, after Maud. Walter denied it, said she was too young to conceive.
“That pretty comb we left for you among the spices that make you rich, I knew you would remember it. The precious comb your brother Walter took from you to give to our Mary. Why are you not wearing it, Kitty Kitty Puss Puss? Or the one you wore that day Bryce and I caught you out alone. That bloody day.” He reared forward, pushing Kate down before she could react, pressing himself to her, grinding his twisted lips against her mouth. Lille and Ghent charged at him.
Berend roared as he rushed between the dogs, lifting Andrew into the air and slamming him against the wall.
Kate rolled over, spitting out the taste of the bastard.
Berend held Andrew down with a foot to his chest, though the man’s eyes were closed as he struggled to breathe. “Have you heard enough, Dame Katherine? Shall we end it?”
“Not yet.” There were things she wanted to know, and things she did not want her servants to hear. “I want to talk to him alone. Take Sam out. Question him. Petra, too. Leave Lille and Ghent.”
“Dame Katherine…”
She motioned Lille and Ghent to her side. They stood, alert.
“Go, Jennet, Berend!” she commanded.
Jennet lifted the girl, and Berend yanked Sam to his feet, kicking shut the door behind him. Kate took out her knife, set the axe beside her, took Andrew’s foot and shook his wounded leg.
He sputtered awake. Lille and Ghent, who crouched on either side of him, growled a warning as he moved. “What is this? You give your dogs the honor of the kill? But you love to kill. You had such pleasure with–”
“Bryce was the devil’s spawn. No child of God could have so boasted of his pleasure in cutting out Maud’s tongue and pressing it up into her with his cock. He was no man born of woman. And how slowly he killed Geoff. A piece at a time until he bled to death.” She suddenly saw it so clear in her mind she flinched, turned away to hide her emotion.
“Ah, she looks away. A woman’s soft heart after all.”
“The dogs will take you if you reach for me,” she whispered, breathing deeply to steady herself.
I did not feel it after a while, said Geoff. God protected me from the worst of it.
“What did you mean about my mother?”