Season of Blood

by Jeri Westerson

  There! A barrel against a wall with a jutting window. He ran for it and leapt up to the barrel, nimbly jumping to the window and up to the eaves. Fingers digging into the clay tiles, he pulled himself up by the strength of his arms, threw his leg up over the roof, and rolled the rest of the way. He popped up to his feet and just caught the shadowy figure disappearing behind some chimneys. He hastened after her.

  Some of the clay tiles snapped under his feet, loosened and careened down the slant of the roof, shattering below on the cobblestones. He ignored the muffled shouts from below and pursued.

  Kat stopped beside a chimney and listened, looking back. Crispin threw himself against a wall and hid in the shadows.

  She did not seem to be looking to get down anytime soon. She was rather accomplished with this, he thought. Being smaller and weighing less was an advantage. He was certain each of his heavy steps could be plainly heard by the residents below him.

  She moved ahead again and he peeled himself away from the wall to follow. She took several more steps and suddenly spun. ‘Crispin?’

  He froze but it was of no use. Even with the darkness sheltering him she had plainly spotted him.

  ‘Crispin. Why are you pursuing me?’

  He could barely see her face but the moon’s light caught one of her cheeks, the sharp brightness of her eyes. He huffed a breath. ‘Maybe I enjoy it.’

  She laughed. ‘I very much doubt that.’

  ‘You ran from my apprentice.’

  ‘So I did. It seems someone wishes to arrest me.’

  He shook his head, angry with her, with himself. ‘Kat, you knew it would end this way. You knew I would have to turn you in. Why were you still there at the Unicorn?’

  ‘Because I knew you’d be back.’

  He took a step forward. She took one away from him.

  ‘This is foolish, woman! You must turn yourself in to me.’

  ‘But I don’t wish to be arrested. I feel it would be a detriment to my health.’

  ‘Kat … can’t we get off this damned roof and talk about it?’

  ‘And be nabbed by your apprentice? I don’t think so.’

  In a flash, she disappeared. He realized that she had turned and her dark cloak gave the illusion that she had vanished into thin air. But his ears picked up her movement instead and he followed, leaping over the spine of a roof.

  ‘Stop pursuing me, Crispin,’ she called over her shoulder.

  ‘I won’t. You know I won’t.’

  She sighed and stopped again, keeping a decent distance between them. He sensed this anyway and stopped. She tilted her head when she gazed at him. He remembered that about her, how she had angled her head, offering her neck for him to kiss and nuzzle.

  ‘You truly must stop pursuing me. I shan’t surrender myself to you.’

  ‘Did you steal the relic?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you kill the monk?’

  He heard the small gasp. Was it more mummery? ‘Who was killed?’

  ‘A Cistercian monk who brought the relic back to me.’

  ‘I am sorry. But no, I did not. Where did this happen?’

  ‘Don’t you know?’

  She gusted an exasperated breath. ‘No, I don’t. I never killed anyone and I didn’t take the relic. But I would have, for I still need to be paid.’

  ‘That won’t happen now. Brother Rodney has been arrested for conspiracy.’

  ‘God’s teeth!’ she swore under her breath.

  ‘So you see, it is useless to run.’

  ‘Not if the sheriffs wish to accuse me of murder and thievery.’

  ‘Do you swear to God that you didn’t kill him?’

  ‘I swear, Crispin. I did not. What did … what did Rodney say?’

  ‘What they all seem to say. That you captivated him. That he wished to hire a thief and was surprised it was you.’

  ‘Such a little fool.’

  ‘Did you lie with him, too?’ He hadn’t meant it to come out as harshly as it had, but … well. There it was.

  Her silhouetted face looked down. ‘Does it matter so much to you?’

  ‘No.’

  She laughed. It galled. ‘I didn’t, as it happens. He was flushed like a child. I’ve no doubt he’d never experienced such feelings before, didn’t know what to do with them. But he was willing to do almost anything for me. Except pay me first.’

  ‘Do you think he killed the Cistercian?’

  ‘Rodney? Oh, no. Someone else, surely. What of that fellow after Simon?’

  ‘No. He only had his murderous heart set on killing Simon. Almost would have if it weren’t for my apprentice.’

  ‘He is a handy fellow is your Jack Tucker.’

  He looked off between the rooftops to the lane below, where a cat was making its stealthy way along the path, picking delicately over the mud. ‘Brother Fulk was so besotted with you he killed Brother Ralph with Simon’s dagger to make it look as if he had done it. Then he pursued the poor man to kill him. All for love of you.’

  ‘Dear me. Well, I do confess I did sleep with the man. I thought he would do what I wished afterwards but he hesitated. Simon, too. It didn’t stop Fulk from killing, though, did it? Or Simon from being the weakling he is. Only you, Crispin, seems to have kept his head and his integrity intact.’

  ‘Is that supposed to be a compliment?’

  ‘In my way.’

  ‘Is Fulk lying? He said he didn’t kill Brother Edwin at Hailes.’

  ‘What difference does it all make, Crispin? You have your culprits. Of the relic … well …’

  ‘I don’t have my culprits. I don’t know who killed Brother James or Brother Edwin, and the relic is lost again.’

  ‘And I am without my fee.’ She took a cautious step closer. The gap between the roofs was the span of a lane and cut their path in two. One false step and it was a good fifteen feet down. ‘We could partner. Suppose I get half your fee if I help you.’

  ‘You do recall how meager my fee is.’

  ‘That’s right.’ She ruminated, tapping her chin. ‘And I already expended money paying your debts. Perhaps I should get all the fee.’

  It was his turn to laugh. ‘You are a ridiculous woman.’

  ‘Nothing of the kind. I’m pragmatic.’

  ‘What makes you think I can trust you? You’ve done nothing but lie to me.’

  ‘Crispin, Crispin. Those were all necessary lies. But as your partner, I certainly wouldn’t lie to you then. How could we help each other otherwise?’

  ‘Why is it I feel you are only out to help Kat?’

  ‘Ah, wounded again. Your barbs are sharp, my dear.’

  He firmed his stance on the slanted surface. He could suddenly see a star-filled sky above without the looming buildings blocking his view. Strangely, it somehow made their conversation seem that much more intimate. ‘Maybe I can’t trust you to find a murderer when you may very well be one … but I do need you to help me find the relic.’

  ‘I would give it my all.’

  ‘Why? Do you have another buyer?’

  She feigned shock. ‘Why, Crispin Guest! You don’t believe I would do this out of my own obligation to make things right?’

  ‘Not even a little.’

  She laughed. ‘There is no veil covering your eyes, is there.’

  ‘None whatsoever.’

  She stopped to ponder, becoming as still as the other shadows spilling down the pitch of the roof. ‘And yet,’ she said softly, almost too softly for him to hear, ‘I would help you. But I have a price.’

  ‘Of course. What is it?’

  ‘That you don’t turn me in to the sheriffs. When all is said and done and I have helped you, you allow me to walk away.’

  ‘What of my reputation, demoiselle? I always bring thieves and murderers to justice.’

  She shook her head. ‘Not this time.’

  He tried to make out her face in the darkness, but night had fully draped around them and all he could discern was
her figure in the moonlight. He recalled intimately each curve he could now barely see. ‘You drive a hard bargain.’

  ‘So I have been told.’

  He gave one nod. ‘Done.’

  There was the flash of a smile. ‘Then off we go.’ She spread out her arms like Christ on a cross and slowly fell backward off the roof.

  ‘Kat!’ He ran and leapt across the space between the roofs. He got to the edge and looked down. A hay cart stood below. But there was no sign of Kat.

  ‘Damnable woman,’ he growled. Yet he was smiling.

  He returned to the Unicorn where Jack was waiting. ‘Where’ve you been?’ said Jack.

  ‘I’ve been in pursuit of our thief. But I’ve made an agreement with her. She helps us find the relic and … and I let her go.’

  ‘What sort of sarding agreement is that?’

  ‘She hasn’t another buyer. At least, I don’t think so. And she is clever. She can help.’

  ‘Very well.’ He folded his arms over his chest and scowled. ‘Where is she, then?’

  ‘Right here!’

  She landed hard behind Jack and, when he whirled and grabbed at his dagger, he was more than displeased to discover that it was already in her hand.

  She waved it a bit before tossing it in the air and catching it blade first so to offer the hilt to Jack. He took it without thanks, yanking it out of her hands.

  ‘Careful, young Master Tucker. You could have cut me.’

  ‘Only if you wanted me to, for I fear there is little that happens that you haven’t plotted beforehand.’

  She moued. ‘This one takes after you, Crispin.’

  ‘And aren’t we lucky he does. The relic was being kept at Westminster Abbey, Kat. The Cistercian monk guarding it was slain where he was. In the abbot’s chamber.’

  ‘Blessed Virgin! Someone has the audacity. But he also has the means.’

  ‘You would have the audacity.’

  ‘But not the means … or the cruelty. I get my men out of the way by other tactics … as you know.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said sourly.

  She merely smiled. ‘Any theories?’

  ‘You,’ said Jack, keeping his hand on his dagger’s pommel.

  ‘Ah, dear Jack, but I did not. I did not kill and I did not get my hands upon the relic. Not this time. And my buyer has been taken to prison. If he didn’t do it, then I am at a loss.’

  ‘I would love to say it was Master Wynchecombe,’ said Jack, ‘but he was with me the whole time.’

  ‘That was my next question,’ said Kat.

  ‘Not your buyer, Brother Rodney,’ said Crispin, ‘not Simon and not you. And not Fulk, for he only cared to kill Simon. There are no more players as far as I know.’

  ‘But there must be,’ she said, laying a finger to her lips, tapping their plumpness. Crispin tore his eyes away from those lips that had done maddening things to him.

  ‘Perhaps whoever it was that killed Brother Edwin,’ said Jack. ‘Seems all them monks were coming and going from Hailes without a so much as a by-your-leave to the abbot, and him not saying much about it.’

  ‘If that is true,’ said Crispin, ‘and that killer is here in London with us, however will we find him?’

  ‘Look for a stray Cistercian?’

  ‘You’re assuming it’s a monk,’ she said. She pulled her cloak about her.

  ‘Shall we return to my lodgings? Jack, hadn’t you better get a message to Nigellus Cobmartin, telling him that his own lodgings are free again?’

  ‘In the morning, master. I have a feeling it isn’t an urgency and he might object to the, uh … interruption.’

  ‘As you will,’ he muttered.

  They kept an eye out for signs of the watch and made it to the Shambles without incident. Jack rushed ahead and unlocked the door. He commenced stoking the fire as Crispin took Kat’s cloak and hung it on the peg by the door. He unbuttoned his own and hung it next to hers.

  ‘Please sit,’ he said, gesturing to the table in the center of the room.

  A black-and-white cat suddenly appeared out of the gloom and wound his way around her feet. ‘And who is this?’ She knelt and picked him up, holding him close to her chest.

  ‘That rascal is Gyb and I’m surprised he is allowing you such liberties.’

  She stroked his head and pressed her cheek against his fur. ‘Oh, but he’s a sweet thing. All men are alike. They only need the right sort of coddling.’ She petted the cat for a few more moments before letting him go. ‘You see? They like their stroking, but in the end they prefer to be free.’

  Jack snorted by the fire.

  Crispin sat as Kat found her seat. She looked from one to the other. ‘This partnership of yours. It works well.’

  ‘It’s Master Crispin’s doing,’ said Jack, straightening. He stood by the fire, hands behind his back. ‘He’s taught me everything I know.’

  ‘Not everything,’ she said. ‘I hear tell you were an accomplished thief when he found you.’

  ‘A man’s got to eat, demoiselle.’

  ‘So does a woman. And the world is a much crueler place to a woman, Master Tucker. We learn what we learn to get by.’

  He sniffed but stayed before the fire, as if guarding it. Or was he guarding Crispin?

  Crispin steepled his hands. ‘The relic must be returned to Hailes. That is the first order of business.’

  ‘I didn’t agree to that. I agreed to help you find it.’

  ‘Confound it, woman! I did not agree to partner with you only for you to steal it and sell it to the highest bidder. Our agreement is nullified if that is your intention.’

  ‘Fine,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘It returns to Hailes. And you let me go.’

  ‘Fine.’

  Jack began to rock on his heels. ‘I don’t suppose anyone cares what I have to say on it.’

  No one spoke.

  Jack sighed. ‘Well, I do have a question. Are we looking for the same person who killed Brother Edwin, then?’

  ‘I suppose that follows,’ said Crispin, staring down at the table, trying not to look at Kat’s animated features.

  ‘But it doesn’t,’ she said.

  ‘And why not?’

  ‘Because the relic was taken by someone who knew it was there. Do you think this culprit could see through walls? It must have been someone at Westminster Abbey.’

  ‘Aye,’ said Jack. ‘Rodney Beaton. Why’d he want it anyway?’

  ‘For the glory of the abbey,’ said Crispin, leaning back.

  Jack absently rubbed his backside before the fire. ‘But what good would that do? It’s not as if he could display it. The best he could do would be to make sure it never returned to Hailes.’

  Kat pressed forward against the table. ‘He wouldn’t destroy it, would he?’

  Crispin gazed up into the rafters in thought. ‘No. But he’d keep it hidden. He’d keep it …’ He slammed his hand to the table. ‘I know where it is.’ He rose and went to his cloak by the door.

  ‘Master Crispin, we’re not going back to Westminster again, are we?’

  ‘I am, if you’ve no stomach for it.’

  Jack straightened his cloak, which he had not taken off, and stretched his back till it cracked. ‘No, master, I’ll accompany you.’

  Kat smiled. ‘And am I allowed to come?’

  ‘I highly recommend it.’ He grabbed her cloak and tossed it toward her. She caught it easily and began to draw it on.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Kat seemed unafraid of the night. Since she was a thief, he expected as much. The misty darkness seemed to follow them, before and aft, encasing their steps. Both London and Westminster had gone to their rest. There was candlelight here and there behind shutters and curtains. Fires were banked for the night, yet some smoke still curled from chimneys and crept over the rooftops.

  Spring had not seemed to have permeated the night, for it was icy cold. Crispin drew his heavy cloak over his arms. He glanced at Kat. Her cloak did not seem as hea
vy and he almost offered his own to her before thinking better of it. Best not to appear more of a fool than he’d already made himself out to be. It was all a game to her. Bedding Crispin was only part of it. And yet he’d done the same to countless other women. Why did it sting so much when it had happened to him?

  Charing Cross suddenly loomed out of the mist and he followed the torchlight toward the abbey. The burning cressets glowed outside the north door. Crispin led them around toward the Thames at the entrance of the cloisters. Knowing it was far too late, he nevertheless rang the bell.

  It wasn’t long before the sedate stride of a black-cowled monk appeared at an arched doorway. When he reached the barred entrance, Crispin could see that it was Brother Eric, and he was none too pleased to see Crispin. ‘It is late, Master Guest. Very late.’

  ‘I know.’

  The monk’s gaze took in Jack and then Kat. It lingered on her before returning to Crispin. ‘The abbot is abed.’

  ‘I do not wish to disturb Abbot William … just yet. May I … may we come into the cloister?’

  ‘You are allowed many liberties, Crispin. But this woman …’

  ‘Who has been in the cloister many a time before,’ said Kat, approaching the bars.

  ‘And who should not have been,’ countered Brother Eric.

  She shrugged. ‘That’s as may be, but the point is moot now.’

  ‘Two crimes have been committed, brother,’ said Crispin. ‘You know why I am here.’

  He studied Crispin carefully. ‘My brothers are in repose. They deserve their rest.’

  ‘We shall be as quiet as we may.’

  In resignation, Eric unlocked the gate, pulled it open and stood behind it, the shadows from the bars falling over his face. ‘You can leave by the church.’

  ‘If that is your will.’

  Eric said nothing more as he locked the gate again, turned and shuffled back into the cloister.

  Crispin led them through the colonnade. The garth was a gathering of ghostly trees whispering in the mist. They seemed to disappear as they passed them, one coming out of the gloom just as others receded into it. An owl hooted from somewhere over a rooftop and the squeal of bats swooped over them, catching fluttering moths. But there was no other sound from the heavy stone structure of church and monastery.