A Murdered Peace

In the early afternoon, Kate saw Matt off to the York Tavern with the casket of jewels hidden in a crate of spices from her inventory, Jennet off to the Sharp residence where she would give Lady Margery her instructions, and then she and the hounds escorted Marie and Petra to the guesthouse. Griselde had promised to make a feast to celebrate the day, and Phillip would be joining them, as the stoneyard was closed for both Candlemas and the mayor’s celebration. He would sleep at home for the next two nights. It would be good to have them all under her roof again. Marie and Petra were particularly excited to show off their new dresses. The snow had stopped for the nonce and they danced down the street, nicely calling attention to the fact that Kate was with her wards.

And then she slipped out the back door of the guesthouse with the hounds. John Wrawby had agreed to meet with her and Sir Elric. She must also stop to speak with her friend Cam at the staithes, ensure that all was ready for the morrow.

Bess looked him up and down, tsking and shaking her head, the ribbons on her white cap fluttering. “As I told Dame Jocasta, the inn is filled with soldiers tonight, so there’s nothing for it but to put you on a pallet in my own.”

The boy, who kept his head bowed, shrugged to let her know he’d heard.

“Right then, come along.” About to send off the man who had delivered the boy, she hesitated, noticing his patched jacket and old boots. Told the cook to give him a bowl of stew and some bread, and motioned him to the bench just inside the door. Dame Jocasta did what she could for them, but the man had done a service, and he looked hungry.

He had also arrived promptly, in time for anyone lingering out in the yard to hear the irritation in her voice. Another good reason to feed the courier – the cold would drive any lurkers off before he finished eating and took his leave. No opportunity for questions.

And just in case someone recalled the lad, not seeing him around after tomorrow, she would shrug and roll her eyes and say Colin returned from a delivery without him. The strays would run away, thinking they’d find something better, or still escaping their own private devils. But she was counting on most folk being at William Frost’s celebration on the morrow. She herself would abstain, her old hips not liking such a long walk in the cold.

Once in her room she closed the door and took a good look at her guest. “You’re a wee bit too pretty for the soldiers.”

“I wanted to color my skin, but Dame Jocasta said that would just make me exotic, and some would find that even more appealing.”

“Once you’re on the road, will you go back to your skirts?”

Lady Margery shook her head. “I do not dare at first. With my shorn hair I thought I might not be a woman until we reach our destination. But Jennet, Dame Katherine’s maid, has fashioned a simple gown and wimple I will don when Berend says it is time.”

Her speech was fair, of course, being a noblewoman, but there was a toughness to her that explained how she had come so far. And why Berend would accept her as a companion in flight. But Bess felt compelled to warn her. “If you do aught to cause Berend’s mission to fail, you will be cursed. I will pray that your maggoty remains dissolve in unhallowed ground and that you burn in hell.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “How dare you–”

“Must I remind you what I risk in inviting you into my home for the night?”

The woman had the wisdom to doff her cap and bow her head, whispering an apology.

“You are no lady at the moment. You are a waif brought to Dame Jocasta and now delivered up to me as a servant. For your sake and for that of all the good people helping you, you had best remember that.”

A knock, Colin’s signal. Bess opened the door only so far as she must to allow him in, shut it quickly. “Take a look at her size. Will it work?” Bess put out an arm to stop his bow. “As I was just reminding this little gutter-snipe, such behavior will undo us all. This is a lad off the streets. You are annoyed to have him foist upon you, but I’ve insisted we give him a chance.”

Colin crossed himself. “God help me, I wasn’t thinking.”

“You had better begin.” She called him her grandson, but not a drop of her blood ran in his veins. His father was her Tom’s son by his first marriage. Still, her Tom would have been quick to understand the situation and would rise to the occasion. She wished someone else might take the lady downriver, but no one from Katherine Clifford’s house must be involved. They might be followed. “In the morning, as soon as Sir Elric leaves to deliver up those two recreants in the shack to the king’s men, you hie to the river. There will be some nice confusion amongst Sir Peter’s men, just enough to make them incurious about a cart of ale.”

Colin looked crestfallen. “I know my duty, Grandmother. I will not fail you.”

He’d best see that he didn’t.