The Riverwoman’s Dragon
- Автор: Робб Кэндис
- Серия: Owen Archer #13
- Год: 2021
- Язык: английский
- Год: Severn House
- ISBN: 978-1-4483-0563-6
- Жанр: Исторические детективы
Электронная книга - «The Riverwoman’s Dragon». Краткое содержание книги:
When the wise woman Magda Digby is suspected of murder, Owen Archer sets out to prove her innocence in this intricately plotted medieval mystery.
May, 1375. Owen Archer returns from London to find York in chaos. While the citizens are living in terror of the pestilence which is spreading throughout the land, a new physician has arrived, whipping up fear and suspicion against traditional healers and midwives. With the backing of the new archbishop, he is especially hostile towards Magda Digby, the wise woman who has helped and healed the people of York for many years. At the same time, Magda is uneasy about the arrival of two long-lost kinsfolk. Though they say they are seeking her help, she senses a hidden agenda.
Magda’s troubles deepen when she discovers a body in the river near her home – and finds herself under suspicion of murder. Days later, fire rips through a warehouse in the city. Amongst the charred debris lies the body of a man – not burned, but stabbed in the back. Could there be a connection to the corpse in the river?
Determined to prove Magda’s innocence, Owen sets out to find answers – but the more he uncovers, the deeper the mystery becomes…
Perhaps misguided confidence. Owen did not expect the day to go smoothly. ‘How is Anna this morning?’ he asked.
‘She said she slept well and her head no longer pounds. She is grateful for Dame Lucie’s physick.’
‘Her fever?’
‘Still hot, but she thinks it might be easing. We pray Dame Lucie was right, it need not be the Death upon her.’ Michaelo mounted.
Owen continued to fuss with the stirrups. ‘That is good news.’
Michaelo leaned down toward Owen, lowering his voice. ‘Forgive me, but should we not be in haste?’
‘And alert anyone watching that we are on a mission?’ He watched as Michaelo understood. ‘We will take a leisurely pace toward the woods, chatting amiably as we watch for trouble on the riverbank near Dame Magda’s house.’
‘My mistake.’
Einar led the donkey and cart out of the yard, getting acquainted with the animal. It felt good to stretch his legs and breathe in the scents of the forest, feel the cool air on his skin, even the mist. All night the fire in Magda’s home had burned hot, a comfort at first, but later waking him in a sweat. He had taken the blankets and moved as far from the fire as possible. And though he woke with icy feet and hands he’d stayed in his corner until Magda called to him to observe her examination of Asa.
This morning her face and all exposed skin on her right side were darkened with bruising. But the swelling in her hand had eased a little, and he helped Magda removed the temporary bandage so that she might apply an unguent on the bruised and swollen hand, misshapen by the mutilated fingers.
‘When will you set them?’
‘Later this day, before thou must leave to assist the crow.’
Einar imagined the agony Asa would suffer in the process. ‘Michaelo is more of a phoenix, rising from the ashes,’ he said, hoping to wipe away the image.
‘All clerics are crows to Magda.’
‘He is different.’
‘Thou couldst say that of each one.’
When would he learn that arguing with Magda would circle back on him?
When the examination was finished, she had sat with Einar as he ate, explaining how to find the earthen house in the woodland glade where he was to deliver the cloth. Her directions were like none he had ever received. He must move at a slow pace once the track dipped, feeling for the subtle shift in the scent and listening for the moment when it seemed as if the woods hushed at his approach, the trees stilled. He was then to turn toward the river on a path that he might doubt was truly a path leading anywhere.
‘Thou wilt understand when thou seest it,’ said Magda. ‘Leave the donkey and cart in the clearing beyond where the path bends round an ancient oak. Shoulder thy load and walk from there. The house is not far.’
‘How will I know it?’
‘It is the only one on that path. If thou canst not find the path, return to Magda and she will take it another day.’
‘You doubt me?’
She had smiled and touched his arm. ‘It is not thee whom Magda doubts.’
And that had been that.
Considering Alan’s violent temper, Einar had taken up his bow and a quiver of arrows for the errand.
‘Magda warns thee to leave all weapons but a short knife in the cart.’ She had not smiled then.
‘Why? This family to whom I deliver the cloth would object?’
‘Not them. Promise Magda thou wilt leave all weapons in the cart.’
‘But someone might steal them – or Nip, now I think of it. A donkey is valuable.’
‘No one will steal thy weapons from the cart. Nor Nip. Magda warns thee to follow her directions.’
‘I swear I will.’
He’d felt uneasy then, even more so now. Her riddles confused him. But he was determined to succeed.
The woods were quiet so early in the morning. On the way he would walk Nip and the cart, not ride up high where the noise of the wheels might mask his sense of the quieting. He would ride in the cart on the way back. He had been walking for a while when Nip grew restive as two men, bent beneath the weight of their sacks of wood, waddled toward them.
Einar eased the cart to the side of the track to permit the pair to pass. They blessed him in barely discernible mumbles as they slowly went by. Something about them prompted him to stay put until they were out of sight. He was glad he had, for once he resumed he quickly sensed a change in the air, an enveloping quiet. To his left he saw a faint trail, as if the underbrush had grown over what was once a deeply rutted track. Softly encouraging Nip, he guided him on to the path and beyond a great oak. There he found the clearing Magda had mentioned, complete with an old trough in which the water looked clear. Cupping his hand, he tasted it. Fresh water.
‘There you are, Nip. Refreshment.’ Slipping his weapons into the cart, tucking them away in a corner, he backed up to the rear of the cart and crouched down to lift the pack of cloth to his shoulder. With a promise to return soon, he continued down the track which grew more defined, smiling as he heard the sound of water over rocks and felt the coolness as if near a waterfall. The trees shivered and sighed above him.
In a few moments, Owen mounted and moved off toward Galtres, Michaelo riding on his right, his sighted side. That would allow them to converse, but once they began to track the cart in the woods Owen would order him to his sightless side. He told him what he’d learned from Carn. ‘Are you armed?’
‘For riding into Galtres? Of course. A dagger. Where is the leech?’
‘Carn did not mention him, but I believe he hid beneath the cover on the cart until out of the city. Or was hidden.’
‘His payment for hastening Guthlac’s death?’
Owen glanced at Michaelo. ‘You begin to think like me.’
A raised brow. ‘What of the others whom Carn mentioned? Do you expect them to join up with Wolcott?’
‘The laborers, yes. But not that cart. I do not believe they mean to pull such a load through Galtres. They’re headed to the riverbank. They will find two of my men there. I thought someone might think to distract me a second time.’
‘Building what?’
‘The question is, what might they burn?’
‘God help us.’
‘Another two of my men will meet us a short way into the woods, the fifth farther along.’
‘The three on horseback.’
‘That would make sense.’
While they rode at an easy pace Owen told Michaelo all that he had learned of Alan Rawcliff, Einar, and Asa.
‘An unpleasant pair, Gavin and Alan,’ Michaelo noted. ‘We know the latter will not hesitate to resort to violence. What think you of Gavin?’
‘He practices at the butts on Sundays. A fair shot.’
‘Not so good as you, I pray.’
‘No. But if he has the advantage that might not matter.’
For a while now Owen had kept his good eye – unfortunately causing him to twist to the left – on a cart being pulled with some difficulty across the uneven ground toward the riverbank. From a distance he could hear the racket it made. A good thing, for the pair pulling it seemed unaware of the trail of folk moving in silent fellowship to form a barrier behind them and close them in.
Owen pointed to what was happening.
‘You look pleased,’ said Michaelo.
‘I am glad to see that the minds behind all this are too arrogant to be careful.’
‘Arrogant?’
‘They do not expect us to see the pattern. No need to try a new strategy, just repeat what they tried before, an attack on Magda’s house and the folk she protects. They believe me to be ever-vigilant on her behalf.’
‘You are. But you see far more clearly than they do.’
‘I thank you for that.’