A Conspiracy of Wolves

by Candace Robb

  ‘I am sorry to ask you to recount such a discovery. Did you notice any movement elsewhere?’

  ‘I was so intent on them—’

  ‘Any sign of a dog?’

  ‘Father’s dogs?’

  ‘Had they been his, would they not have protected him?’

  ‘Yes, yes, they would. They are devoted to him.’ She had begun to pluck her sleeve as if uneasy.

  ‘We saw only one set of prints,’ said Owen. ‘A large dog.’

  Her beringed hand rose to her throat. ‘They said my brother was attacked by a wolf.’

  ‘I do not give credence to the rumor of a wolf.’

  ‘I pray you are right. For certain I cannot see how such a creature might find a way into the city— Was Father bitten?’

  ‘We will know when we examine him.’ He asked whether anyone in the house had expected trouble, whether there had been any sense of danger, a stranger watching the house, anything that caused concern.

  ‘I know of nothing. My father and my brother were such kind men. They had no enemies, surely.’

  ‘As a coroner, your father might very well have made some enemies. But your brother would have no part in your father’s responsibilities as coroner, would he? Did he help your father in any way?’

  ‘No. Hoban had no interest in that. I had not thought about the danger of Father’s position. But he held it so long, without any trouble—’

  The hall door opened to the servants bearing their master’s corpse. George Hempe and the priest followed close behind. In the light from the wall sconces, Bartolf’s injuries were all too horrific.

  Olyf gave a little cry.

  Owen bowed to her and followed the procession into the buttery off the kitchen, a place become too familiar. The servants placed Bartolf on the same stone counter where Hoban had so recently lain. Oil lamps and a lantern provided light for a pair of maidservants who stood ready to clean the body. Owen told them to begin with Bartolf’s face, so that he might see the extent of his wounds.

  ‘Bless you. Best to do this before Dame Muriel sees him,’ one of the women whispered to Owen.

  It was a futile courtesy. There was no way to make pretty Bartolf’s ruined face, the crushed skull. One of the servants gently turned Bartolf’s head to the right, to hide the worst of the devastation.

  ‘God in heaven,’ Olyf whispered at Owen’s elbow.

  He had not noticed her following him. ‘You might wish to forgo this,’ he said.

  She crossed herself and hurried from the room.

  Owen joined Hempe in a close examination of Bartolf’s wounds. The knife had been thrust with such force it had broken a rib. Blood clogged the old man’s mouth. A dog had clawed him high on his left thigh. Again, not Bartolf’s lawed dogs.

  ‘I would say a bodkin, narrow blade,’ said Hempe. ‘Do you agree?’

  ‘I do. But whether that killed him, or whether the shattered rib tore through his lung—’ Owen turned Bartolf’s face so that Hempe could see the blood in his mouth. ‘Or he might have choked on his own blood.’

  ‘He was such an old man. Who so brutally attacks an old man?’ Hempe asked. He rubbed his face. ‘I am so tired my eyes want to close on me. I will send men round to warn the wardens at the gates, and the night watch. Perhaps someone will have something for me in the morning.’

  Out in the hall, there was no sign of Dame Olyf. Owen said goodnight to Hempe and went in search of the servants, asking whether anyone had accompanied Dame Olyf outside when she had discovered the body. All looked toward an elderly man who seemed reluctant to admit his part. Owen drew him out into the yard.

  ‘Dame Olyf said she heard something without. Told me to get a lantern and come out with her,’ said the servant. ‘The yard was empty, but there was a man out on the street with – I don’t know what it was – a wolf?’ He crossed himself. ‘He just stood there, looking back at us, then hurried off when I walked toward him with the lantern. When I turned, she’d walked to the gate. We saw two people hurrying off through the neighbors’ garden, young, must have been Mistress Alisoun and your son, and then Dame Olyf moaned to see Master Swann—’ The man’s voice broke. He dropped his eyes and crossed himself.

  ‘Is there anything else?’

  ‘She whispered, “Dogs again.” And something else, but I couldn’t understand it. But the dog, if it was a dog, had been out on the street.’ The man shook his head. ‘Then she hurried inside. Ordered us to arm and guard the house. And sent for the priest. I’d seen the man and beast before, I think, in the neighbors’ garden. Early one morning. Walking away, toward the York Tavern yard.’

  ‘Would you recognize his face?’

  ‘Never saw it, Captain. I’m sorry for that. But the dog, he looked like a wolf, I swear he did.’

  ‘You’ve seen wolves before?’

  ‘Have I—?’ The man screwed up his face. ‘Long ago. In the forest. Saw two run down one of the king’s deer.’

  ‘You said like a wolf.’

  A nod. ‘Very like. But – I can’t say. Seemed wrong somehow.’

  ‘You’ve been most helpful.’

  ‘Master Swann was a good man, Captain. And Master Hoban. I pray you find who did this.’

  ‘The bailiffs and I will do our best.’

  Curious that Olyf Tirwhit had not mentioned seeing the man and beast out on the street.

  It grew late, and Owen had much to think about. He collected Jasper, who was pacing near the hall door. ‘Geoffrey deserted you?’

  Jasper gestured toward the fire where Geoffrey lay stretched out on a bench, asleep. Hempe strolled over and gave him a boot in the leg, chuckling as the man snorted and sputtered in confusion.

  ‘I learned something that might be of interest,’ Geoffrey said as they made their way through the gate, guarded now by one of the servants. ‘The cook told me of a man and a large dog or wolf watching the house a few days ago.’

  ‘Standing in the Fenton yard?’ Owen asked.

  ‘Ah. You’ve already heard.’

  The Fenton garden again. Because the family was away? It was next to the Swann home? The owners were kin to the steward of Galtres? ‘Would he recognize the man?’ Owen asked.

  ‘Said he saw his back.’

  Owen cursed under his breath. ‘Did you tell this to Hempe?’

  Geoffrey laughed. ‘That half-wit?’

  ‘He is no half-wit, my friend. And this is his investigation.’

  ‘He may believe it is his investigation, but mark me, Owen, the Braithwaites and the council will insist you take the lead.’

  ‘He’s right, Da,’ said Jasper. ‘When Dame Janet was departing with Dame Olyf she said as much, she would speak with the mayor and aldermen on the morrow, see that they offered you whatever you asked to solve the two murders.’

  So everyone connected the deaths of father and son, even before hearing of the clawing.

  Tom greeted them at the tavern door with a request to send Bess home. ‘She went to warn Lucie why you would be late home.’

  Owen was grateful. In the confusion, he had forgotten she would have at least expected Jasper to return earlier.

  Tom nodded. ‘She went for a favor and stayed for herself, it seems. I’d be grateful if you would tell her I want to lock up now.’

  It was wise to lock up tonight. The city gates had been locked hours ago. Bartolf’s murderers were near, within the walls.

  Geoffrey bid them goodnight and disappeared into the tavern. ‘He’ll tell you all he’s learned for the price of a pint of your best,’ Owen told Tom. ‘Though you might want to wait for Bess, else he’ll insist on two.’

  Owen felt a weariness descend as he and Jasper crossed the tavern yard toward home.

  FIVE

  Between the Wolf and the Dog

  An oil lamp placed between them on the window seat illuminated the two friends, Lucie slender and upright, her long braid a plumb line down her straight back, Bess sitting cross-legged in a nest of cushions, her sleeves pushed
up to reveal muscular arms, a beribboned white cap insufficient to contain her wiry and abundant red hair, some escaping to curl against her damp neck. The two keeping watch together – a familiar sight. They both turned as he and Jasper stepped into the hall.

  ‘My prayers are answered.’ Lucie rose to embrace first Owen, then Jasper. ‘You are both home, safe and sound.’

  Bess bade them good night, saying she must see to Tom. Now the tavern was shut for the night he must get some sleep, morning would come soon enough with all the chores to do for those biding at the inn and those who would gather early to hear the latest about the night’s tragedy. She made a face at Jasper’s offer to escort her through the yard. ‘And how would you defend me, I wonder, with you about to topple with fatigue? Perhaps it is I who should escort you to your chamber above the shop.’

  But the lad was hungry, as was Owen, and Lucie sat with them by the kitchen fire while they ate bowls of stew Kate had warmed for them. Lucie assured them that Bess had told her enough for now, best that they save the rest for the morrow. ‘It is sleep you need now, not stirring up.’

  But Owen had a question for Jasper that could not wait, for the lad might forget details by morning. ‘When you came through the yards, did you see anyone?’

  Jasper rubbed his eyes. ‘Two drunks coming from the York Tavern, holding each other up.’

  ‘Who?’

  Yawning, Jasper shrugged. ‘I paid them no heed. They were pissing drunk, and it was dark.’

  ‘You had a lantern. Think, son.’

  Jasper shrank into himself. ‘I didn’t look at them. How could I know it might be important?’

  ‘I did not expect it of you, son, I merely hoped. What of Alisoun? Do you think she might have noticed?’

  ‘She asked if I’d marked how they smelled. Like drunks!’ Jasper rolled his eyes, but then he seemed to think more of it. ‘To be honest, I tried not to smell them. But Alisoun did. And then she seemed uneasy the moment she entered Fenton’s garden, long before I smelled anything. Now I wonder – did the drunks reek of blood? I did not ask her.’

  ‘I will.’

  Jasper nodded. ‘There is something – but I might just be telling tales.’

  ‘You can trust me,’ Owen urged.

  Jasper raked a hand through his fair hair. ‘Before you send someone round to the barbers, you might talk to Alisoun again. I think she lied to you, Da.’

  ‘About what?’ Owen asked. ‘The salve?’

  ‘At least the pouch. It’s hers. I recognize it.’

  ‘Alisoun’s? How do you know?’

  ‘I was with her when she found the piece of leather. We competed for the best story about how it came to bear that mark.’ Jasper suddenly looked stricken by his betrayal. ‘Perhaps you asked about the salve, not the pouch?’

  ‘Is that true?’ Lucie asked Owen. ‘Might she not have noticed it?’

  ‘I can’t recall,’ Owen admitted. ‘But one of Hempe’s men went round to the barbers today. No one admitted to preparing that particular salve. I will talk to her again. Thank you, son.’

  Lucie rose to rub Jasper’s back, massage his shoulders. ‘Is this why you snubbed her tonight?’

  A shrug and a nod.

  She kissed the scar on his right cheek. ‘Best be off to bed. We’ll have a crowd in the shop in the morning, hoping for gossip.’

  ‘I’m sorry I paid no heed to the drunks,’ Jasper said as he stumbled to his feet.

  ‘We don’t know they were of importance,’ said Owen. ‘You were a great help tonight. You were patient, kept your ears pricked. I’m grateful. You deserve some sleep!’

  Lucie smiled to see how much that meant to Jasper. He seemed his usual self as he left the hall for his bedchamber over the shop next door.

  Owen took Lucie’s hand and led her up to their bedchamber.

  ‘If what Jasper overheard is true, that Janet Braithwaite is petitioning the mayor for my help, I’m going to need Alfred to guide the bailiffs’ men in my methods. But I’ve sent him and Stephen off into the forest.’

  ‘About that.’ She told him of Alisoun’s complaint. He winced as he settled on the bed to remove his boots, clearly acknowledging his transgression. ‘Perhaps when you apologize to her you might find a way to show her the pouch,’ she said.

  ‘I will. Though she will realize what I’m about and be angry all over again.’ Owen set his boots by the door.

  That was the way with Alisoun. And yet … Lucie paused as she was about to climb into bed. ‘If she lied, she might be apologetic.’

  Owen slipped his hands around her waist and kissed the back of her neck. ‘Alisoun? I would like to see that. But I admit she was a help at Bishopthorpe Palace when Thoresby was dying, and she seems good with Dame Muriel and her mother.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear that.’ Lucie turned in Owen’s arms. ‘What if Alisoun is lying because she fears the person for whom she prepared it? She might be in danger.’

  ‘You are assuming much, my love. What if she dropped the pouch on the track, and fears someone will accuse her of murdering Hoban?’

  ‘Oh, surely they would not think that.’

  He’d removed the patch he wore over his scarred, blind eye and she could see a slight twitch. Magda called the twitches and showers of needle pricks on the scarred eye his gift, a knowing. Lucie guessed that he worried Alisoun was somehow implicated.

  ‘I pray it is easily explained,’ she said softly, sorry to have mentioned it before sleep.

  ‘Nothing is easy with Alisoun,’ Owen muttered as he climbed into bed.

  ‘No,’ Lucie agreed, remembering his account of their first meeting, climbing up a ladder to a loft where young Alisoun stood, aiming an arrow at him. He and Magda had been on a mission of mercy. A fisherman had earlier seen Alisoun on the riverbank shouting for help. In the house they had found her family, siblings and parents, dead of the pestilence; Alisoun had retreated to the barn, where she stood ready to defend herself, her horse, her farm. ‘If she dispensed the salve, the person might return to Magda’s house. Perhaps it is just as well you sent Alfred and Stephen there.’

  ‘Unprepared.’ He grumbled into his pillow.

  ‘I had been thinking that some of Kate’s siblings might be willing to watch Magda’s house.’ Kate and Tildy’s many brothers and sisters were a treasure trove of hard, honest workers. ‘Rob and Rose? One of them would be there while the other came to me with messages.’ They were twins, fifteen years old. ‘Though now that we fear for trouble …’

  Owen had turned onto his back. ‘I cannot think of a better pair, dauntless but level-headed. They would know to hide if someone looked less than friendly, then devise a way for one of them to fetch help.’ He pulled her close. ‘Bless you, my love.’

  ‘You are so confident in them?’

  ‘I am.’

  Lucie kissed him. ‘And I am glad to have found a way to cheer you before sleep.’

  She settled into his arms.

  ‘I pray God neither the Nevilles nor the Percys are involved in this,’ Owen whispered.

  She would prefer that to it being one of their neighbors. But she understood his dread. Powerful families made his work far more difficult, and never satisfying. They seemed above the law. ‘No more talk of this tonight.’ Lucie wound a leg around him. ‘Sleep now. You have much work ahead of you.’

  She stroked his hair. Within a few moments his breathing slowed into the rhythm of sleep.

  But she lay there staring at the beam overhead for what seemed like hours, worrying about Alisoun and Jasper – if the two men in the tavern yard were the murderers, they might fear one of them could identify them. But what had they done with the dog? And what was Olyf Tirwhit hiding?

  Shortly before dawn Owen woke to the sound of baby Emma’s tears and Lena’s sweet voice singing her back from her bad dream. A reminder of why he did all he did, to keep the world safe for his children and his beloved Lucie. He turned over and pulled her into his arms.

  Sh
e smiled sleepily as she kissed him. ‘Such a sweet voice she has, though nothing like Alisoun’s.’ Lucie rolled over on her back. ‘Poor Alisoun, plucked from the peace of Magda’s rock and set in the path of danger.’

  ‘If she did lie to me, she was already in danger.’

  ‘True. Poor Jasper, he was so angry with her. He glared at me when I told him to escort her back to the Swann house.’

  ‘It was not his choice to walk her home last night?’

  ‘No. He was such a boor about it that I locked Nicholas’s books away until his temper cooled and he apologized. But he had cause.’

  ‘Not to glare at you.’ He saw the worry in Lucie’s eyes. ‘Alisoun would be even less safe at Magda’s house.’

  Lucie sighed. ‘I know. I’m worried that both she and Jasper might be at risk if the pair of drunks murdered Bartolf.’

  ‘I thought of that as well. I’ll see to protecting them.’ Owen heard the kitchen door open. ‘Kate’s awake. I’ll bring in some wood for her.’

  She smiled. ‘Kate is quite capable of bringing in the wood. But I know, you need to stretch your legs while you plan out your day.’ She kissed him and slipped back down beneath the covers. ‘I’ll escort the twins to Magda’s. Let Jasper burn off some of his temper with good honest work alone in a crowded apothecary. I will make my apologies to Alisoun later. Such a pair we are, inviting intruders into her home.’

  ‘Why you? Why walk into danger?’

  She propped herself on one elbow, reaching out to touch his cheek. ‘How can I ask it of Rose and Rob if I think it too dangerous to go myself?’

  ‘Perhaps—’

  She touched a finger to his lips, silencing him. ‘We have no cause to believe we will come to harm, my love. It is Alisoun who needs our protection. Don’t worry about me.’

  ‘But I do. You are my anchor.’

  ‘And you are mine. I will be careful, my love.’ Her steady gaze assured him.

  Owen dressed in the soft dawn light filtering through the shutters and stepped out onto the landing to begin his day.

  The rising sun touched the rooftops, but already it was disappearing behind low clouds, the sort of late-summer overcast that kept the dew and the river damp trapped, thickening the air, dragging down the spirit. Owen paused at the gate into the tavern yard, observing a woman who paced back and forth near the tavern door, wringing her hands and mumbling something to herself – prayers, perhaps. He could not quite place her. Simple dress, a faded brown with some shine at the elbow and a patch on the skirt, tidily sewn. He opened the gate, letting it squeak loudly to warn her of his presence.