A Conspiracy of Wolves

The sun was low in the sky and a freshening breeze had dispelled the late-afternoon warmth. Lucie stood at the entrance to the walled herb garden considering the order of her autumn chores. She had lost time with the trip to Freythorpe and there was much work ahead before the first frost. Owen enjoyed doing the digging and the heavier work, but with Hoban’s murderer to find he might not now have time to help. If only Edric, her second apprentice, had stayed until after Yuletide, as originally planned. But as he’d never seemed at ease after his falling out with Jasper over Alisoun’s affections, Lucie had not tried to dissuade him from what appeared to be an excellent opportunity in Beverley.

‘Dame Lucie?’ Alisoun stood beneath the linden.

With a fleeting thought of having summoned the young woman with her reverie – why did such fantasies arise at dusk? – Lucie hastened toward her, noticing that the young woman shivered in the cooling evening. ‘You came out without a cloak or wrap? Is it Dame Muriel? Do you need help?’

‘I would welcome some advice, but I was most eager to speak with the captain. Is he here?’

‘No. He’s at the tavern. Might I help?’

‘Did you know he gave his men leave to sleep in Magda’s house last night without ever asking my permission?’

‘He did not–?’

‘Dame Magda entrusted her home to me in her absence. It is my responsibility. But he never thought to ask.’

Accustomed to the young woman’s temper, Lucie did not take offense at her abruptness. ‘He knows better than to do that,’ she said. ‘I will speak with him, though I do not believe he meant for them to stay another night.’ She put an arm round Alisoun’s slender shoulders. ‘Come in, do. We will talk in the warmth.’

Lucie guided Alisoun past the table where Jasper poured over some books. ‘My first husband’s garden journals,’ she said softly.

Alisoun greeted Jasper as she passed him, but he did not even look up from his reading. A falling out? Lucie wondered. She led Alisoun to a long bench by the window.

‘Are you at ease biding in the Swann home?’ Lucie asked.

‘I would prefer to sleep at Magda’s, but I cannot in good conscience leave Dame Muriel at the moment.’

‘Of course. They are treating you well?’

‘If you are asking whether they treat me with respect, yes, they do. But I do worry that Dame Muriel might need a more experienced midwife. She picks at her food – the baby cannot be getting enough nourishment.’

‘Fear about her first pregnancy, and now her grief, her husband murdered – I am not surprised she has no appetite. But she must keep up her strength or the baby will grow strong as the mother weakens.’

‘Will you tell the captain he was wrong to send his men to Magda’s without asking my leave?’

‘I am sorry he was so thoughtless, Alisoun. Yes, I will speak with him. But surely you cannot think they would wreak havoc there? They respect Magda. Fear her a little, I think, and her dragon.’ Lucie took Alisoun’s hands. They were still cold. ‘Something warm to drink? Are you hungry?’

‘No, I cannot stay long. I know they are good men, that they will do no harm.’ Alisoun gestured as if at a loss to explain.

‘But my husband should have told you of his plan, and asked your leave.’

Alisoun’s expression brightened. ‘You understand.’

‘I do, Alisoun. I do.’ Owen doubtless devised the plan as he spoke to the men without a thought to how it might seem to Alisoun, how proud she was of the responsibility. He needed to apologize. ‘I will make it clear how he offended.’

‘I am grateful.’ But there was yet a shadow in her eyes. Something still troubled her.

‘Is there more?’

Alisoun glanced out the window for a moment, as if searching for the right words. ‘All the household is frightened.’ She turned back to Lucie. ‘Has the captain learned anything of use? Something that might lead him to the murderers?’

‘I wish I had some encouraging news for you, but I’ve nothing, Alisoun.’

‘Nothing?’

A momentary light in Alisoun’s eyes gave Lucie pause. Relief? Why would she be relieved? Gone now. It had flickered out as quickly as it had appeared, yet it had been there, she was sure of it.

‘I hoped to have something to tell Dame Muriel,’ said Alisoun. ‘Not that it would cheer her, but – I worry about how little she eats. Have you a powder to stir her appetite? Safe for a woman with child?’

Time to grieve, that is what the widow needed, but Lucie understood Alisoun’s concern. ‘Of course. I will send Jasper with a physick in the morning, if that will do.’

‘That will do very well, thank you.’ Alisoun took Lucie’s hands, pressed them.

Hers were warmer now, but the smile was tight, forced. Had Lucie imagined that? Knowing how quick the young woman was to take offense, she resisted reassuring her that she was equal to the task. Best to say nothing. She seemed to have her wits about her, which was essential. The child Muriel Swann carried was all the more precious now that Hoban was dead. But the expectant mother’s history of miscarriages did not bode well.