A Murdered Peace
- Автор: Робб Кэндис
- Серия: A Kate Clifford Mystery #3
- Год: 2018
- Язык: английский
- Год: Pegasus Books
- ISBN: 9781681779270
- Жанр: Исторические детективы
Электронная книга - «A Murdered Peace». Краткое содержание книги:
England still in tumult at the start of the fifteenth century, as Kate Clifford finds herself working to prove the innocence of her longtime confidante.
It is deep winter in York, 1400, the ground frozen, the short days dimmed with the smoke from countless fires, the sun, when it shines, low in the sky. It is rumored that the Epiphany Uprising, meant to relieve the realm of the Henry the usurper and return King Richard to the throne has, instead, spelled his doom. As long as Richard lives, he is a threat to Henry. So, too, the nobles behind the plot. The ringleaders have been caught, some slaughtered as they fled west by folk loyal to Henry, and the king's men now search the towns for survivors.
A perilous time, made worse for Kate Clifford by the disappearance of Berend, her cook and confidante, shortly after Christmas. Her niece saw his departure in a dream – he said he was honor bound to leave. Honor bound – to a former lord? One of the nobles who led the uprising? Is he alive? She is hardly consoled when Berend reappears, wounded, secretive, denying any connection to the uprising, but refusing to explain himself. When he is accused of brutally murdering a spice seller in the city, Kate discovers a chest of jewels in his possession. Some of the jewels belong to her old friend Lady Margery, wanted by the king for her husband’s part in the uprising. For the sake of their long friendship, and the love she and her wards bear for him, Kate wants to believe his innocence. So, too, does Sir Elric. And he has the powerful backing of the Earl of Westmoreland. All she need do is confide in him. If only she trusted her heart.
As Elric paced in the castle chamber the goodwife startled him, bursting into laughter. Looking up, Elric did as well.
“Jennet will pay for this,” said Berend, but he was grinning. The dress was made of undyed wool, the girdle woven flax and leather – a bit too nice for a washerwoman, Elric thought, but behind, beneath the darker cloak, it held Berend’s sword in a scabbard. The veil – oh dear God the wimple and veil accentuated the scars on his face, though they did cover the missing ear.
“Hell’s bells, you’re an ugly woman,” said Elric.
“No surprise there. I’m an ugly man.” Berend grew serious. “How safe is Lady Margery?”
“As safe as we can make her. Colin Merchet took her on an errand to Bishopthorpe this morning, where she now awaits you, in Kevin’s company.” Elric considered Berend’s long skirt. “Walk back and forth in that, become familiar with it.”
Berend covered the chamber in four long strides without tripping.
“You would think he had lived in ’em.” The goodwife chuckled.
“I once spent two seasons in monk’s robes – walking, running, riding, fighting at the end. Much the same,” said Berend.
A story in that, Elric thought. “Ready?” he moved toward the door. Berend nodded, as did the midwife.
Elric knocked softly in a rhythm his men recognized. As he opened the door, they framed it, waiting to bring up the back. All pulled scarves up to cover half of their faces. Elric led. Round the corner he came upon a lackey badgering one of the guards about some duty not being fair. The guard had been bought up, but the clerk … Elric was moving forward, drawing a knife, when Berend strode past him and startled everyone by grabbing the clerk and knocking his head against the stone wall. He slumped down, unconscious.
“He will live,” Berend said.
Pray God he knew what he was doing. “Do nothing to wake him until your fellows signal that we’re free,” Elric instructed the guard.
With a nod and a shrug, he wished them well. “I’ll lose no sleep over him. God speed, Berend.”
A round of steps and they were ready to exit into the yard. Stephen and Wulf hurried forward, jostling each other as they walked out into the yard, looking round, then began a loud, curse-strewn, slurred argument about a woman they had both bedded. As they moved toward the gate, Elric did not like the way one of the guards looked at them. Elric chided his men about their language in front of a lady, watching the guard as he did so.
“She’s no lady,” Wulf protested, saw that his captain was not looking at him, and followed his gaze.
As did Stephen.
They moved closer, Berend whispering to Elric that he knew the guard, he was no friend of his.
As the one they all now watched reached to ring a warning bell, Stephen threw his dagger, pinning the man’s arm to the door behind him. His mate covered the man’s mouth and hissed at the party to hurry.
As they passed, Berend kneed the would-be betrayer in the groin.
“Stupid,” Elric hissed as the man twisted and damaged his pinned wrist.
As Stephen pulled out the dagger, Wulf knocked the man’s head, hard, against the door.
“Open the bloody guardroom door,” Wulf hissed as the man’s fellow looked at a loss.
He quickly did as ordered, and Wulf tossed the man inside.
“My mate’s wife wanted to go to the mayor’s feast. He vouched for Ben, but …”
Elric prayed no others had shared today’s plans. God help them, if they made it he could only conclude God truly watched over them.
They pulled down their scarves as they moved out the gate. Now the lad took Berend’s hand, as if the large woman were his dam. They walked a little ahead of the other three, who quietly talked amongst themselves. Berend and the lad turned down Hertergate.
“Goodwife Ann, is that you? I–” a woman stopped, stared at Berend and the lad, then hurried on past with a worried frown. Seeing Elric and his men, she stepped up to them. “That woman – she – that is not her child.”
“I know,” said Elric. “The lad is escorting her home. She fell ill while out on errands. We are following along in case – he does not seem strong enough to assist her should she fall.”
“Good lad. I’ve always said he’s a good one. Runs like the wind, he does, and some folk say he learned that from his cousin the cutpurse but I never credited that. God go with you, gentlemen.” She bustled off.
“I thought we were done in by a fish wife,” said Stephen, breathlessly.
“You smelled it as well?” said Wulf, making a face. “How can they bear it?”
“Where are your heads?” Elric growled. “She was concerned about a lad not her own. Would you do as much?”
“I meant her no ill,” said Wulf. “It was good of her. I meant how do they bear standing at their carts all day, as the fish begin to smell, eh?”
They were nearing the King’s Staithe. Berend and the lad were already sidling up to Douglas and Harry, the latter sitting on an overturned coracle playing chess with one of the workers.
“That is Cam,” said Elric. “He is beholden to Dame Katherine for saving his brother’s life.”
Elric hurried forward. This was the crucial moment, getting the “old woman” onto the barge that awaited, with barrels arranged so that Berend might doff the apparel as he headed downriver with Harry and Douglas. Harry, young and inexperienced in such things, looked about to burst into laughter. There were few workers on the staithe, most were at the festivities on Micklegate, but there were some men not part of the mission and they must not have cause to examine Berend too closely. From afar he might pass for an uncommonly large woman, but not close up. Surely the goodwife they had encountered had noticed that.
Cam stood up sharp as Berend approached, giving him a little bow and nodding to the lad. “If you would allow me to help your grandam aboard.” He proffered Berend his arm, then instructed “her” how to walk up the gangplank. “I have set a bench in a bit of a shelter. It’s a nasty wind coming down from the moors today.”
Douglas and Harry rose, shaking out their legs, and followed the two onto the barge. The lad waved to them, then turned to Elric for the signal to run to Katherine, and his expression changed.
“Sir,” he said softly. “There’s two of the sheriffs’ men coming toward us.”
Looking around, Kate caught sight of Gwenllian Ferriby and was making her way toward her when Sir Peter’s companion, Captain Crawford, stepped in her path, smiling and bowing.
God help us, does he know?
He’s looking like a suitor, not an accuser, Geoff said.
His smile was quite friendly, and his dark eyes shone with what seemed sincere admiration as he remarked on her fine hounds and the extravagance of her cousin, the new mayor. After she had given him a courteous response he grew solemn, expressing his condolences on the news of her widowhood. “I once met Simon Neville, an amiable man.”
“And where were you when you made his acquaintance?”
“In Calais.”
“Ah, at the house of his mistress, perchance? Have you met their children? They are just over there by the puppeteer.” She bit her lip as she watched his handsome face spasm, uncertain how to respond. “Forgive me, Captain Crawford. My cousin might have warned you to avoid the topic of my former marriage.”
“I did not know. I assure you I meant no insult.”
She smiled as sweetly as she knew how while glancing round the yard hoping to see Elric, which would be a sign that all was well. “What is your impression of our fair city?”