The Lady Chapel

by Candace M. Robb

  Jasper was fascinated. "Captain Archer told you about his family?"

  Tildy tugged and smoothed away the last snarl. "There," she said with satisfaction, and sat down beside Jasper. "Yes, Captain Archer talks to me a lot, just like 1 was part of the family. He's a kind man."

  Jasper nodded. "I wish I were his son."

  "You could do a lot worse than have him for a father, to be sure."

  Behind them, the door from the garden opened. Jasper saw Tildy blush as she turned toward the door. He knew even before he turned that it must be John.

  "Well, now, what a cozy couple you make." John brushed snow-flakes from his shoulders and moved a stool close to the fire. "I saw the Captain and the Mistress over the tavern supping and thought I might come round." He smiled, showing the gaps in his teeth. He looked at Jasper's wet hair, the comb in Tildy's lap. "So you're making him pretty, are you, Tildy?"

  Jasper flushed at such a comment from his new friend.

  Tildy giggled. "Nay, John, you trouble maker. Mistress Lucie put

  henna in Jasper's hair to disguise him so he could go out yesterday. But now he's got a rash on his scalp, so she had me wash his hair with rosemary water to soothe it. If you'd take a look at Jasper's face you'd know he wasn't happy about it."

  John squinted at Jasper and nodded. "Poor lad. And all for naught, I'd say. I told you to trust no one. Captain Archer's a good man, but he's the Archbishop's man first. I think he's using you to lure the murderers. He knew they'd recognize you, even with the hair. That was to comfort you. And now they know you're to be found near the Captain."

  "What do you mean?" Jasper asked, confused. "I asked the Captain to take me."

  John nodded. "And you gave him the idea, see?"

  "What're you about, John?" Tildy demanded. "What are you accusing the Captain of?"

  John grinned at Tildy's tone. His eyes were teasing as he faced her. "So you've lost your heart to the Captain, have you, Tildy?"

  "I never!"

  John shrugged. "You know the Archbishop left Captain Archer in charge of finding out who killed those two merchants, Will Crounce and Gilbert Ridley. That's why they have Jasper here. To protect him from the murderers. But maybe to lure them, too."

  Sweet Jesu. Jasper had never thought-- Would the Captain betray him?

  Tildy looked irritated with John. "Captain Archer wouldn't let anything happen to Jasper."

  "No," Jasper said in a tiny voice. "He's been good to me."

  "And besides, Mistress Lucie wouldn't let the Captain put Jasper in danger." Tildy squeezed Jasper's shoulder to reassure him.

  John stretched his long legs out toward the fire. He smelled of stables. "I'll be more than happy to be wrong in this. But I told you to trust no one, Jasper. That's the only sure way of being safe."

  Jasper suddenly had an awful thought. "You didn't tell them my secret, did you, Tildy?"

  Tildy looked askance at Jasper. "Of course I didn't tell them. Mistress Lucie told me a secret's all right to keep as long as it doesn't hurt anyone." She glanced over at John to see whether he believed she'd betray Jasper.

  John had his eye on a jug of ale that sat near him.

  "Go ahead," Tildy said. "Have some."

  John rose to get a cup.

  "I'm glad you didn't tell, Tildy," Jasper said softly.

  "I promised you, didn't I? Though I still think it might be better to tell the Captain everything."

  "If John's right, I'm glad I didn't."

  Tildy gave Jasper a hug. "The Captain would never let them hurt you. I don't understand why John's stirring you up." She said it loud enough for John to hear.

  John sat down again, pouring himself a cup of ale. "I meant no harm, Tildy. Just wanted Jasper to understand that he must be careful. And that going out yesterday was foolish." John leaned toward Jasper. "But since you did go, tell me about it."

  Jasper frowned up at John, not so sure he was such a good friend after all. "Why don't you go with us next time? I don't see you practicing of a Sunday. You're old enough. Older'n me."

  John held up his right hand, displaying the stubs of his middle three fingers. "Can't hold the arrow right with this mess, else I'd be there. I'd like to shoot a bow." He was not smiling now.

  Jasper didn't know what to say. He'd wanted to challenge John, not to hurt his feelings; he'd forgotten John's hand. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

  John shrugged. "No matter. The Lord God set me in the way of honest work. I've nothing to complain about." He took a drink of the ale. "So. Tell me about St. George's Field."

  Jasper thought a moment, deciding where to begin. "They bring the butts out from a lean-to next to the chapel, and they set them up so the sun's not in your eyes. That's important. And Captain Archer walks around and tells them what they're doing wrong. Some can't shoot right even after he tells them what to do. He says it's because they were never trained. But they try, and no one argues with him. Everyone respects him. He's a great man."

  "You don't have to tell me that, Jasper," John said. "I like Captain Archer well enough. I'm just warning you that Archbishop Thoresby's a powerful man. He's not just the Archbishop, he's the Lord Chancellor of all England. And if he tells the Captain to find some murderers, the Captain had best do it no matter what. And

  if the only way's to lure the murderers with you, since you're the only one saw them, well..." John closed his eyes and tipped back his head to drain his cup.

  Jasper said nothing. He didn't want to believe that the Captain might put him in danger.

  John set the cup down and leaned over to Jasper. "I've been thinking about how you had to leave your Dad's bow behind, and how it was special because he painted it."

  Jasper shrugged. "I'm too small for it anyway."

  John snorted. "Well you won't always be, Jasper de Melton. You're growing every day. So what I'm thinking is we go see early some morning if it's still there."

  Jasper frowned. "But you just told me how stupid I was to go out yesterday."

  John nodded. "Parading you around like that, sure. But this'd be just you and me, sneaking out, taking the alleyways. Who's going to notice us? And wouldn't you like to get your Dad's bow if you could?"

  Jasper folded his arms and frowned down at his stockinged feet as he thought about it. "I don't know that I should go. But you could go over and ask Mistress Fletcher. It's her house. She would have the chest it was in if she's got new tenants. And no one's looking for you, John."

  Tildy nodded. "That sounds like a better idea. Even I could go."

  John rolled his eyes. "So why should Mistress Fletcher give me, a stranger, your things, Jasper?"

  "You could give him a note to give Mistress Fletcher," Tildy suggested.

  "Mistress Fletcher can't read. Nor can any of her family," Jasper said. Nor could Jasper or Tildy or John, for that matter.

  "Right," John said. "So we'll go and see what's what. Even if someone's watching you, who's going to be on the lookout early in the morning, Jasper? And if we don't find the bow where you left it, then maybe Tildy can go ask Mistress Fletcher. She'd probably trust Tildy."

  Jasper studied John's face. His eyes were burning as if he were about to embark on a quest.

  "Why do you want me to do this?" Jasper asked.

  "Because I wish I'd gone back. Seen to things. That's all."

  "That doesn't seem like much of a reason," Tildy said.

  John groaned. "Girls don't understand such things. You haven't had any experience to know what it's like."

  Tildy opened her mouth as if to speak, then froze, her face red, angry tears glittering in her eyes. "You're wrong, John," she said finally. "You're going to get Jasper in trouble just because you want an adventure. That's what you don't understand." She threw down the comb and stomped out of the room.

  "Girls," John sighed.

  Jasper didn't understand, but that was nothing new. He didn't understand a lot of what went on between Tildy and John. They had a peculiar friendship. The
y smiled while calling each other unpleasant names and taunting each other. But this seemed more serious. "Maybe you should go make up to Tildy. You hurt her feelings."

  John grinned. "I'll go talk to her. She's just going to be out in the shop, pretending she's busy. But first, what do you think? Should we sneak out tomorrow morning and see if we can get your Dad's bow?"

  Jasper shrugged. He didn't want to seem a coward. And he very much wanted to see if his things were still there. But what if Tildy was right?

  "Well, what do you say?" John squinted at Jasper.

  Jasper looked down at John's right hand, the stubs that had taught him how dangerous the world was. John wasn't foolish. John had been out there and survived. Jasper nodded. "We'll do it. Tomorrow morning. Now go apologize to Tildy."

  Jasper found John asleep in the stable of the York Tavern, wrapped in several blankets and nested in hay. Matins had rung a while back and Jasper, who could not sleep, had judged it a good, dark time in which to have their adventure.

  John was tough to wake up. And when Jasper roused him and told him that matins had been rung perhaps an hour past, John declared Jasper crazy. "What would the Fletchers think to hear us clunking up the steps in the middle of the night? They're sure to think we're thieves and come after us with clubs."

  "But we are being thieves. Even in daylight, we'd be thieving to sneak up to the room."

  "Give it more time." John opened his blankets. "Come on, snug up with me and sleep a bit more."

  "You just want to go back to sleep. You never meant to go with me."

  "That's not true. But I tell you, I know what I'm talking about. We must wait till just before dawn."

  "Then I'll go alone."

  John grabbed Jasper as he started to get to his feet. "No you won't go alone." He sat up beside Jasper, rubbing his eyes. "Is it still snowing?"

  "No, it's stopped for now."

  "Well, that's one blessing. Why do you want to do this in the middle of the night?"

  "In case someone's watching the house. Or the apothecary."

  John yawned and stretched. "You're probably right." He stood up. "So. We stick close together, stay in the shadows, and keep as quiet as possible. We creep up the stairs-- Does the door creak?"

  Jasper closed his eyes and thought about opening the door. It seemed so long ago he'd been there. "No, it doesn't creak, but it doesn't hang right, so it drags on the floor."

  "Then you open it--you'll know how to hold it up."

  Jasper nodded. His stomach felt fluttery, now that he was really thinking about retrieving the bow. "What if someone's sleeping in there?"

  "We'll know soon enough, and we just get away as fast and quiet as we can." John held up the cloak he'd been about to put on. "Maybe we should leave these. They get caught on things in the dark."

  Jasper was already cold. "My teeth will chatter too loud if I have no cloak."

  "It'll keep you moving fast. That's good."

  Jasper didn't like the excitement in John's voice, but it seemed too late to back out, and just because he was frightened. Jasper reluctantly shrugged out of his cloak.

  They stayed close to the buildings, creeping past the inn, past the

  apothecary, then crossed the street where the shadow was deepest, rounded the corner. The new snow made walking treacherous, hiding the icy patches. John slipped once and landed on his behind with a disgusted grunt. Then they both flattened themselves into a doorway as a night watchman strolled by. Jasper had been right, his teeth chattered so loudly that John could hear them and jabbed him with an elbow. When the watchman was out of sight, John signaled Jasper to move on. Jasper must go first. He knew the way.

  Mistress Fletcher's house was dark. They crept around to the side steps and climbed. Eleven steps, shallow and high.

  "Lord," John whispered, "this is more like a ladder than stairs. We can't carry a chest down this way in the dark."

  "We'll just get the bow. And maybe my jerkin," Jasper whispered back.

  He tried the door. It moved. Not bolted shut. Good. He lifted it slightly and pulled outward, just far enough to slide in. John slid in after him. Jasper opened the shield on the little lantern he carried. The light was weak, but strong enough to show him that the chest stood just where he remembered it. He knelt down in front of it, opened it. His heart sank. It was empty. He could smell his mother's lavender, but there was nothing in the chest.

  Behind him, John made a funny noise, as if he'd bumped into something.

  "Sshh," Jasper whispered as he turned to tell John what he'd found. Sweet Mary in Heaven, the blade of a knife hovered just beyond Jasper's face.

  "So I was right. You came back for your things." It was the voice of the woman in the cathedral, the woman who had hidden the hand.

  Jasper could just see John's feet by the door. He was lying down. No blood was visible, but that didn't matter. It was a bad sign that his friend was lying so still while a woman held a knife at Jasper. That meant John was at least in a faint.

  Still holding the knife at Jasper, the woman leaned over and picked up the lantern. She held it up to Jasper's face. He turned away from the light, but the knife guided his chin back so that Jasper was looking into the woman's eyes.

  "Well, little boy," she said softly, "what am I going to do with

  you, eh? He wants you dead, you know. You were foolish to tell anyone what you'd seen. If you'd just run away that night, said nothing to anyone, your life would not be forfeit."

  "I didn't see faces." The knife had cut Jasper under the chin, and the cut stung. His knees were wobbly where he knelt on the rough wooden floor. He felt a splinter digging in.

  The light flickered across the woman's face. She studied Jasper.

  "I knew you were behind us that night--did you know?" Her voice was calm, as if this was an ordinary conversation. "I saw you waiting with me at the tavern. I felt you turn to follow. Such an earnest boy." She caressed his cheek with the knife blade. "I heard later that your mother was dying. The beautiful Kristine. Will Crounce meant to marry her, you know. I was just trifling with him so that when the time came I could lure him to the ambush. Just as I used John to get to you."

  Jasper gasped.

  "Yes, your friend and I play together. He thought he was bringing you to be initiated. But I had other plans."

  Jasper tried to see his friend through his tears. So John wasn't so smart. "Is he dead?"

  The woman chuckled. "What a fool I would be to kill my pet, don't you think? I suppose you could be my pet, too." She caressed his cheek with the blade again. "You could have stayed silent, boy. I was not going to tell him you'd seen. What did I care? I didn't kill poor Will Crounce. His own greed killed him. He was not as brave as you, Jasper. Not nearly as brave."

  She moved the lantern so close to Jasper he felt its heat. When he jumped, she laughed and pulled it away.

  "You had such pretty blond curls. This red is not so pretty." She flicked a curl with the point of the knife. "Such a sweet boy." A frown replaced the laughter. "How could I hurt such a sweet child?" she whispered as she touched the tip of the knife to Jasper's cheek. He felt the prick and the wetness. "I told you the next time I would have a sharpened knife with a good point, didn't I?"

  Jasper lifted his hand to his face. It was not a big cut, but it bled a lot. "Are you going to kill me?" he asked.

  "What do you think I ought to do, my love? I am as guilty as he. Neither of us raised a hand to kill them, but we set their deaths

  upon them." Her eyes moved down Jasper's body. The knife followed, hovering at his groin, picking at the material. "We had such delicious fun planning this. He is a big man. I wonder if you'll be a big man like him someday."

  Jasper felt a rush of wetness. Not blood, but urine. She either saw the dark stain or smelled it, because she laughed. "Fear is so humbling. We should have asked Will before he died whether Jesus wet himself on the cross. I'm sure after all those years playing Jesus, Will would have known. Wouldn't you li
ke to know that?"

  Jasper shook his head. "It's blasphemy to talk like that."

  She knelt down to him, placing the lantern on the chest behind Jasper. Grabbing his shoulders, with the knife terrifyingly close to his ear, she peered into his eyes. "I frighten you, don't I, Jasper? But tell me this. Don't you hate us for killing Will Crounce?"

  Jasper nodded.

  "Imagine that hate festering over the years. While you watched boys who had the life you would have had. Envy would fill you like a poison, burning through you from the inside out. That's how much I hated Will Crounce and Gilbert Ridley. I prayed for their suffering. They destroyed my father. And God answered my prayer with Ridley in such a mysterious way. Ridley the boar dwindled to Ridley the frightened, frail little man." She flicked Jasper's ear with the point of the blade and laughed when he flinched. "Your blood is so red, little boy, so healthy."

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jasper saw one of John's feet move. Oh, please, God, let him wake up. Jasper did not know what John could do. He didn't think John had brought a weapon. But perhaps if John just scared her . . .

  The woman clenched Jasper's shoulder with the hand that held the knife, and leaned over, closing the lantern shade.

  All was dark. She pressed Jasper to her, fiercely, digging her fingers into the small of his back and his shoulder. "I don't want to kill you, my pretty baby," she whispered in the darkness, "but I must. Or I'm much afraid he will kill me." The hand that held the knife eased off Jasper's shoulder. She pulled back to thrust the knife. Jasper held his breath, waiting for death.

  But she toppled sideways, dragging Jasper down with her. The knife slit his face, then his side as they fell.

  "Run, Jasper!" John hissed in the darkness. "Run!"

  Jasper squeezed out beneath the woman as she thrashed. He lurched to his feet and stumbled to the door, knowing the room well enough to find his way without thinking. Halfway down the stairs, he doubled over, coughing, which made his side burn. He stumbled, then fell the rest of the way, landing in a trembling heap at the bottom of the steps. He crawled into the shadows, his heart pounding, whimpering in pain. He must get to Captain Archer and bring him back for John. But the steps and the building and the snow swam around Jasper. If he closed his eyes for just a moment, everything would settle down.