A Conspiracy of Wolves

‘Enemies. This looks to me the work of more than one.’ Owen crouched down to feel Bartolf’s neck. ‘He’s still warm.’ He asked Tom to shine the lantern on the ground around Bartolf’s body. But it was too disturbed to pick out prints.

‘The ground’s well churned as if he fought them,’ said Hempe.

‘If only he had lived long enough to speak their names.’ Owen eased himself up and paced slowly toward the gate. There. Two partial prints, much larger than Alisoun’s, facing away. So at least one of them had departed through the Swann yard, bold cur. And something more, paw prints. By the look of them he’d had a dog with him, a large dog. ‘We might not have seen this had Dame Olyf and the servants come through, Alisoun.’ She wrapped her arms round herself, and he saw she was shivering. ‘Why don’t you go on to the house and see to Dame Muriel? Jasper can walk you.’

‘I can go alone. Look. There are torches in the yard.’

Geoffrey stepped forward. ‘Permit me to escort you, Mistress Alisoun. I’ll be of more use there, gauging the temper of the household, than standing out here trying to keep out of everyone’s way.’

They went through the gate arm in arm as the priest from St Helen’s arrived, dropping to his knees as he signed the cross over Bartolf’s shattered head.

Hempe unclasped Bartolf’s scrip from his belt and rose with a grunt. ‘I get too old for this. So says my wife, and tonight I would agree.’ As he handed it to Owen, coins rattled inside. ‘So it was not a robbery.’

‘Or Jasper and Alisoun frightened them away before they could search him,’ said Owen. ‘But such violence for the little he might carry.’

‘Would you talk to the family, take a look at Bartolf when we have him in a lighted room?’ asked Hempe. ‘You’ve more experience with something on this order. And you saw his son’s injuries. You might see similarities. I’ll bring in Bartolf’s body, talk to his friends.’

Now was the time to thank Hempe for the compliment but remind him he was the bailiff in York. Yet Owen felt himself nodding. Hoban, now Bartolf … This was an organized attack on a law-abiding family of York. He would not rest easy until the murderers were caught.

In the Swann yard the torchlight danced in a sudden breeze. Menservants stood on either side of the door of the two-story house, their daggers visible. As Owen had expected, they told him they had taken up the watch after Olyf Tirwhit had sounded the alarm.

Owen stepped into the hall. Muriel’s mother, Janet Braithwaite, stood with Olyf near the fire in the center of the room, the latter giving instructions to a small group of servants. Jasper and Geoffrey hung back toward the door.

‘Go warm yourselves,’ Owen suggested.

Nodding, the two moved toward the fire circle. Geoffrey was talking, and, head bowed, Jasper listened, nodded. God bless the man. He might be irritating at times, but he understood that the lad needed to be drawn out of himself, away from the memory of Bartolf’s shattered skull.

Olyf noticed them passing, then looked back toward the door. She nodded to Owen, the jewels in her crispinette twinkling in the firelight. Though tall and large-boned, she was a graceful woman with a way about her that caught a man’s eye. She gave some last orders to the servants, whispered to Janet, then came over to Owen.

‘They obey your orders,’ he noted.

‘They welcome someone telling them what to do at such a time.’

‘Of course. The bailiff has asked me to talk to Dame Muriel and the family.’

‘Alisoun is calming her. She wisely sent Dame Janet down here to calm the servants, but as you saw–’ She gestured toward Janet, who still stood staring into the flames. ‘It proved too much for her. I will send a servant for Muriel when father’s body–’ She seemed to choke on the word, and bowed her head for a moment, as if her sharp efficiency had been but an act she could no longer sustain.

‘Forgive me, Dame Olyf, but I hoped I might ask you a few questions.’

‘Of course.’ She told a passing servant to bring brandywine. ‘You want to know what drew me out to the gate in the dark.’ She waited for his nod. ‘I had been sitting in the hall waiting for Dame Janet – she was saying goodnight to Muriel. The fire – you can feel the heat. Too much! I stepped out for some air and saw Alisoun and the young man hurrying away across the neighbors’ garden. They leaned toward each other, but walked so quickly–’ Olyf glanced toward Jasper. ‘I thought they were young lovers, and regretted spying on them. But then – now I know they were running for help.’ She looked round. ‘Where is that girl with the wine?’ There were tears in her eyes. ‘Ah, here she comes now.’

‘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.’