A Conspiracy of Wolves

‘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.