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.
Out on the practice field the following morning he’d looked up with amazement as she approached in the company of her hounds and asked one of the men if there was a target she might use to practice, preferably a straw man. She needed some fresh air and movement after such a rich feast. Practice what? he had wondered, as he and most of the other men crowded round. From her skirts she drew a small battle axe, gave a signal to the hounds to stand behind her at a slight distance, and proceeded to work up a heat throwing her axe, retrieving it, throwing again, until one of the squires began to retrieve it for her. Her technique was flawless, clearly the result of much practice. Time after time she hit all the best points on the straw man to disarm him, disable him, or kill him. The play finished when she beheaded him. Elric’s amazement burgeoned.
And then she had asked if she might return in a while for some archery practice.
On that day, watching her prowess, her intense focus, Elric realized she could be either a formidable foe or an equally formidable ally. He had worked hard the past year to turn her from the former to the latter, but he still felt as if he were dancing on the edge of her axe blade. After every encounter he found it necessary to review and revise his strategy. Her hard work toward paying off Simon Neville’s debts seemed a part of the discipline that had enabled her skill with weapons. That she was also so compassionate as to take in her late husband’s bastard children and love them as her own – he still wondered at that, but sensed that it came from the same place as her fierce protection of her wayward mother and her young niece. But her choice of servants – an assassin and a thief, and he had yet to discover Matt’s dark secret, and her invention of the guesthouse, a place of assignation for lovers, as a conduit for the money to buy masses for her late husband’s soul – those aspects suggested a dark cunning that unsettled him. Katherine Clifford remained a most challenging enigma. And tonight he must once again try to win her cooperation.
At the corner, Kevin bid him a good evening and trudged off down Low Petergate to Katherine’s house where her wards awaited him. Elric put his arm round his squire’s shoulders.
“Back into the warm glow of the guesthouse, eh, Harry?”
“Yes! God’s blood but it’s cold out here.”
Elric had much to tell Katherine, including some things she might not like to hear about someone for whom she cared far more than Elric liked. Best get it out and be done with it. He prayed that she would appreciate rather than resent the information.
“Not a night to be out on the roads,” Kate said as she opened the door for the returning knight and his man, and saw the depth of the snow, the continued strength of the storm. “You are welcome to make use of one of the bedchambers tonight, wait for daylight before riding through Galtres.” She had chosen an evening for the celebration when there would be no patrons in the upper chambers, so both were available.
Elric gave her a long look. “That is kind of you.”
She felt herself blushing. That was all she needed. She hoped in the candlelight it just seemed her natural high color. “Harry as well, of course.” She nodded to Elric’s squire who was heading out to the kitchen to spend the time with Seth. God be thanked that Griselde had changed the plan and hidden Lady Margery in her own bedchamber.
“I do thank you, but there is no need,” said Elric. “I’ve made arrangements at the York Tavern.”
“I doubt Mistress Merchet’s chambers are so fine as ours. But as you wish.” Kate offered him brandywine.
Elric held out his goblet. “And a good thing it is that I had already planned to stay in the city. On such a night the best horse and rider might lose their way in the forest.”
“You have business in York?” Kate asked, interested.
“I will tell you about it. First, what have you for me?”
Sitting back with her goblet, she said, “It concerns Scarborough. They say there are pirates in the coves near the city, Spanish and French pirates, ready to harry our coast.”
Elric’s frowning concern told her this was news to him. “Spies keen to test the crown’s ability to protect the realm?”
“That was my thought,” said Kate. “A king deposed, a new king threatened with rebellion.”
Elric cleared his throat. “Richard was not deposed, he abdicated.” Said as if by rote, insincere.
“The French do not see it that way,” she said. “Nor do you, I think.” He looked down at his cup. “Nor do the rebels,” she added, thinking of the uprising that had been planned for the feast of the Epiphany, the plot to murder King Henry and his sons. “The point is, the French believe Henry might be so distracted by civil strife he would be unable to move quickly should they attack, with his soldiers already spread out in the countryside and towns searching for the rebel leaders. Is it true what they say? The earls of Salisbury, Kent, and Huntington all beheaded?”
Elric nodded and crossed himself, as did Kate.
“You and your fellow merchants are concerned about this because of the French and Spanish pirates threatening trade,” said Elric.
“You see the problem. We are discussing how we might protect our ships.”
“Hire your own pirates?” He reached for some nuts and figs.
“It is one possibility. Or we put more armed men on our ships to ensure our defense, though that means less room for cargo. We need someone like Ralph Neville to explain the situation to the king. We would not want His Grace to see our armed men as a threat to him. It is said the Earl of Westmoreland has Henry’s ear.”
“He does. I will send him news of this as well as your concerns.” Elric washed a fig and some nuts down with the last of his brandywine, setting it down with a sigh of contentment. “You set a fine table.”
“As I said, you are welcome to stay. Griselde loves men with good appetites.”
What game are you playing, Kate? Geoff hissed in her head. You do not want him here.
“Old Bess is keen for my coin as well as news of the Lancastrian court,” said Elric. “I could use her long knowledge of the city, the families, their alliances, so I count it wise to please her.”
Old Bess. She’s my reason for inviting Elric to lodge here. Having lived on the other side of the city until a few months ago, Kate’s only personal knowledge of Bess Merchet was a comment she made to Griselde, that a woman who flaunted wolfhounds in the city was up to no good. Other than that, Kate knew her only by reputation. Though Old Bess’s grandson Colin was the nominal owner of the York Tavern just round the corner and down Stonegate in St. Helen’s Square, the elderly widow was said to run the tavern from her parlor off the kitchen, her keen instincts keeping troublemakers away, and she made a point of knowing everyone’s business. She likely knew to the day how long Berend had been gone, and that it was long enough for him to have set off to join in the rebellion. That was what worried Kate. If the taverner had heard whispers about Berend’s absence, she might share them with Elric. It was said she had a fondness for soldiers with a bit of the devil in them, and Kate imagined Elric was just her type, especially his connection to nobility. Kate cursed herself for not having tried to befriend the woman. Perhaps she still could.