A Conspiracy of Wolves

‘Do come in.’ The woman who had the previous night wept and wrung her hands now wore an air of calm authority as she led them into the hall. Olyf and Adam Tirwhit sat side by side on a cushioned bench lit by the afternoon sun pouring in through a high window. Her head rested on his shoulder and he held her close, his head bowed. Near them was another couple, plump with prosperity, he garbed in a dark jacket and leggings, she in a gown a subtle shade of blue adorned with seed pearls, her hair caught up in a silver-threaded crispinette. ‘I do not believe you know my son Paul and his wife Elaine,’ Janet said quietly.

Olyf straightened and moved away from her husband as Owen and Alfred took seats near them. Janet wasted no time. As soon as Owen introduced Alfred, their hostess went straight to the point. Owen would be generously compensated. He had only to tell them what he needed and he would have it at once. The city needed him. The mayor, council, and sheriff agreed that Owen should take charge.

Adam Tirwhit quickly added his plea that Owen do all that he could to bring the murderer of his wife’s father and brother to justice. Anger sharpened his words so that the plea came out sounding more like a command.

Olyf silently nodded in agreement, her face pale, her eyes such wells of suffering that Owen knew the image would haunt him until he had solved this.

‘They insisted on seeing the bodies of father and son,’ Dame Janet murmured, as if their emotion required explanation.

Owen expressed his sorrow for their loss, speaking of both men’s goodness, halting as Olyf’s tears overflowed. ‘I will do all in my power to find their murderers.’

A brisk nod from Janet. ‘May God guide you in your task. How might we assist you?’

‘I have questions. But if it is too soon–’

Adam was shaking his head. ‘Let us waste no time.’

‘Is there somewhere we might talk out of hearing of the servants?’

Janet glanced back at the two servants who stood out of the way but close enough to hear any command. ‘I had not thought – I trust them all or I would not–’ She stopped herself with a finger to her lips. ‘My husband’s parlor.’ Rising, she motioned for her guests to follow.

Owen began by asking about the dog now guarding the house. ‘He is new to the household?’

‘He is mine,’ said Paul Braithwaite. ‘It’s a long ride. My manor is near your wife’s. I thought it prudent to bring him. Protection for myself, my wife, my parents’ household.’ He cleared his throat twice as he spoke.

‘I believe he has all his claws?’ Owen asked.

A frown, then a nod of understanding. ‘I never take my dogs into royal forests, no. A cruel practice, lawing.’ Paul glanced at Olyf, but she held her gaze on Owen, as if drawing hope from his presence. Tearless now.

Why had Paul glanced at her?

‘I brought all the staff together this morning to introduce them to Tempest,’ said Janet. ‘To reassure them.’

Owen inclined his head to acknowledge her, but he was more interested in her son. He’d not realized that Paul Braithwaite’s manor was near Freythorpe Hadden, which was south of the city. He thought of the boat on the bank near Hoban’s body. Perhaps someone had ferried Bartolf’s dogs over to the south bank of the Ouse. ‘It was your man who calmed him just now by the door?’ Owen asked. Paul nodded. ‘Might Alfred have a word with him after we’ve finished here? He might have some helpful advice about the dogs we’re searching for – the attackers and those missing from the Swann house in the forest.’

‘Of course,’ said Paul.

In the end, they had nothing of use to tell him.

‘When will you bury Bartolf and Hoban?’ Owen asked.

All looked to Janet Braithwaite.

‘Tomorrow. I prefer to wait until my husband returns, which should be tonight. Muriel is still his baby daughter, you know how it is. He will want to be there.’ A nod, as if that was settled. ‘We plan a quiet service in St Helen’s, no great feast in their memory until their murderers are apprehended and punished. Just family.’

‘Send word to me of the timing. I want the bailiffs’ men on the watch.’

‘I will, Captain.’

Owen stood. ‘I will leave you in peace for now.’ He nodded to Alfred. ‘See about the dog.’

Paul rose. ‘I will accompany you.’

‘I would prefer you did not,’ said Owen, watching the man’s reaction.

Clearly uneasy, he said, ‘Galbot is a man of few words, Captain. He might need my coaxing.’

‘Alfred has experience questioning quiet servants,’ Owen assured him, staring him into compliance.