A Twisted Vengeance

Kate nodded. “But have you more recent news?”

“He is healing well. In time, he may recover his strength and faculties. But Brother Martin warns his will be a long healing. I wondered. Might he find a temporary place in your household? So that he might be near the abbey infirmary? Sheriff Hutton is too far. Not at once. He is still confined to bed. But by Martinmas at the latest …”

“Of course. He has done much for the sisters. If not mine, I will find him a place in a good household.”

Elric thanked her. “And the letters?”

She laughed. “If I were in possession of them, I might be quite disposed to hand them over to you. But as it stands …”

“They are of no use to you.”

“Then all the better I do not have them.”

They had reached Coppergate. Sir Elric paused, turning to her, his eyes warmer than she had expected after that exchange. “My plan is to depart tomorrow. I will leave two men here in the city. Should Lionel cause trouble for you–”

“Where do I find your men?”

She was interested to learn that they were lodged but five houses from her guesthouse, on Stonegate, in the home of a goldsmith. Very near the property her uncle was deeding to her.

“They take their midday meal at the York Tavern, so you might always leave word there as well. And I will not forget to tell them about Nan.”

How he smiles at you. And you, him, Geoff whispered in Kate’s mind.

Be quiet.

Elric had begun to take his leave. “Before you go,” she said, “what can you tell me of Sir Alan Bennet and his fellows?”

“Ah. A puzzle that intrigues me. No livery. Even those he hosted in your home on Petergate were circumspect, saying only that he had the ear of barons close to King Richard, that he had been sent by them to see that those arriving to hold York for the king were welcomed and honored. Have you any more?”

“No. My uncle sent him to me, yet now vaguely claims he was recommended by friends.”

“Richard Clifford, the noble dean of York Minster.” Sir Elric clasped his hands behind his back and gazed down at the cobbles for a moment. “He is a slippery one. My lord would give much to know where his loyalties lie.”

“I would say with the king, whoever he might be, and with the Church.” Kate smiled at Elric’s expression, how pleased he seemed. “Yes. Cliffords, Nevilles, Frosts – Northerners all, seeing to family first. Why risk land and status when one royal cousin is much the same as another?”

“They disappoint you?” Elric asked.

“I agree with them, more’s the pity. Lives will be lost. And for what?” Bidding Elric good day, Kate clucked to Lille and Ghent and moved on, hoping she did not show her dismay. She had shared too much, let him see her too clearly.

Do you believe that about all such struggles? Do you think we died for nothing? Geoff whispered in her mind.

I wonder, Geoff. I do wonder. And I hate that it might be so.

Dinner sat heavy in Kate’s stomach as she took a seat near where Sister Dina sat, examining the swirling pattern on a deep blue brocade. Quietly, Kate told her that Kevin, her rescuer, was on the mend, but that Robin, her attacker, had died. The brocade slithered off Dina’s lap as she covered her mouth. She stopped breathing, her eyes registering the enormity of her deed. Kate touched her shoulder, spoke about the rough handling by the soldiers, by Kevin, how there was every reason to believe he would have recovered had he suffered only the wound she inflicted. Kate sensed the other sisters crowding behind her as she spoke, recognized her mother’s hand on her shoulder.

Brigida and Clara flowed round Kate and knelt to their friend, touching her, offering her soft words. Kate rose, genuflected at the Lady altar, saying a prayer for Dina, Robin, Kevin, and all who were suffering, and then walked out into the sunny afternoon.

“What was the purpose of the intruders?” her mother asked.

Kate had not noticed her following. Turning, she was taken aback by the fear in her mother’s beautiful green eyes. “I do not believe they will be back.” She shared Bran’s account of their scheme, as well as Prior Norbert’s promise to see to Friar Adam. “Even Lionel Neville should be on his best behavior for the nonce. Rest easy, Mother.”

But Eleanor shook her head. “Someone wishes to discredit us.”

“Mother, I’ve just told you–”

“Of course Robin and his fellows would think it was a simple theft – why would those seeking to discredit me bother to explain that to such simpletons?”

Her mother seemed quite certain it was not over. “How would they discredit you? What is in the books?”

“Nothing but God’s word, Christ’s teaching. But the Church twists the lessons so that the people are humbled, fearful, so that we crawl on hands and knees to the priests begging for absolution and offer them all our wealth.”

What could Kate say? It was no more than what others thought but dared not say aloud. “Are you a Lollard, Mother? Do you renounce the authority of the pope and his priests?” She had heard sermons against the followers of the English theologian John Wycliffe, as well as much quiet agreement among her acquaintances.