A Twisted Vengeance

Kate returned to Bishopthorpe Palace silent, exhausted, and annoyed by Geoff’s accolades buzzing in her head. It had been necessary to stop Griffin, but he was no prize kill, his death nothing to celebrate. He would have been far more useful alive.

Helen, the dean’s housekeeper, rushed out past the dean and archbishop to embrace Kate. “We heard Berend’s shout and feared the worst. God be thanked. And Berend? Is he injured?”

“No. Only Griffin.” Kate rested her head for a moment on Helen’s warm shoulder. “He tried to take Lille down with him. I was forced to kill him before I could learn anything.”

“My dear Katherine, I doubt he would have told you anything. He gave the dean no ground in his arguments against violence. He was deeply committed to completing the bloody deed as Baron Roos, in his fury, had commanded him.”

Kate pushed out of the embrace, shocked. “Roos?” The light dawned. The young Baron Clifford’s mother was Elizabeth Roos; her brother William, Baron Roos, acted as John’s guardian. “So you knew about it?”

“Not until today. Your uncle told me everything after you went out to hunt Griffin. Something about family honor avenged. Ulrich Smit and the servants who had accompanied him to Northumberland were executed for crimes against the family and the realm – treason.”

“Treason? What was the deed?”

“He did not say.” Helen closed her eyes. “I do not know what to think now, that he would hide such a thing from me. He lied to me about Griffin’s purpose, implying it was your mother who connived and deceived.”

Kate fought to slow her spinning thoughts. Ulrich accused of treason. Griffin carrying out the orders of William Roos, a powerful man, a member of the Privy Council and one of the men who had negotiated King Richard’s peace with Scotland. Her home in Northumberland on the border with Scotland. The late Baron Clifford, Thomas, John’s father, had been Warden of the West Marches, responsible for keeping peace of that border. God help us. Did we harbor a traitor? Was Ulrich in league with the Scots?

Did Mother know? Geoff whispered in her mind.

No, Geoff, no. Think of all she lost to the Cavertons. All three sons. No.

Helen touched Kate’s arm. “What can I do for you, my dear?”

Kate shook her head.

“A quiet place and a flask of brandywine?” Elric suggested, joining them. “His Grace’s servants await your commands.”

“Yes,” Kate breathed, crouching down to give Lille and Ghent each a hug while she collected herself. When she was composed, she signaled to the hounds to accompany Helen to the kitchen. “Please see that they are properly rewarded, Helen. Thank you. I will join you in a little while.”

“Of course.” Helen took the leads in hand.

“Here they come.” Elric looked toward the gardens.

Out of the brush stepped two of Elric’s men carrying Griffin in an improvised sling. Berend and Elric’s squire Harry followed. A manservant hurried out of a small stone outbuilding, gesturing them inside. Harry broke away and headed toward Kate and Elric, but Berend continued on with the body.

“A sorry ending to a sorry deed,” Elric said softly, nodding to his man.

“I could use that brandywine now,” said Kate, turning toward the hall.

Elric walked with her.

And here is the go-between, Kate thought, glaring at Sir Alan, who strode out from the palace as if to attend Griffin.

His Grace stopped him with a stern shake of his head. “Don Vincent will see to it.”

“Your Grace, he was–”

“Say no more of this in my presence, Sir Alan,” said the archbishop. When the man began to protest, Scrope thundered, “No more!”

Tight-lipped, the knight withdrew.

And then Harry was with them, congratulating Kate on her remarkable aim. “I’ve seen where he fell. Still in the cover of the trees and yet you found his heart. I’ve never witnessed such shooting.”

“Nor did you witness it this day, or you would know that I missed the first time. The first arrow wounded a tree. A birch, I believe. But it is such a waste.” She shook her head at him as the young man, startled, began to apologize. “I am tired and filthy, Harry. You must excuse me.” She turned to the archbishop.

He bowed to her. “You will stay the night, Dame Katherine. I will see that Sir Alan and his men keep well away from your company. I am sending a messenger to inform Dame Eleanor and your household that you are safe and the danger past.”

Kate considered protesting the delay in returning to York, but thought better of it. “Once I have had a wash and a cup of brandywine, I would have you hear my confession, Your Grace.” No matter how deserved the killing, it was still a sin requiring absolution.

“Of course.”

A servant escorted Kate to a bedchamber, bringing a basin of warm water, lotions and cloths, a goblet, and a flagon of brandywine. Kate poured herself a measure more than she usually considered wise and sank down onto a chair near a window, pushing open the shutter just in time to see Berend exit the stone outbuilding. Glancing toward the palace, he turned and headed toward the river. No, not away from me. She wanted him near. There was no one else with whom she could share the turmoil inside. But she knew this mood, and that there was nothing for it but to let him be.