A Conspiracy of Wolves

Winifrith studied Owen’s face as he spoke, as if reading there whether or not she believed him. ‘He’s a swimmer, my da, that is so. Proud of it, he is. Goes in the water at night, mostly, so there’s no traffic, you see. So I can believe he did that. Between the wolf and the dog–’ She nodded. ‘So he saw he was stuck with two sorry choices. In his cups, that’s not the time to swim. Not so drunk after all. God be thanked.’ She made a sound between a laugh and a sob. ‘There are some think he’s taking up space with no good purpose on God’s earth, but he’s been a good father to me and my little ones.’ She surprised Owen with a hug. ‘Bless you, Captain Archer.’ She stepped back, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. ‘And bless Alfred and the young ones who are hiding him. I couldn’t hope for better protection. And the Riverwoman’s dragon will watch over him.’ Her face suddenly tightened. ‘But my little ones. I cannot tell them he’s safe, they’re sure to come out with it. God forgive me, I must lie to them and let their dear hearts grieve.’

‘I pray it will not be for long, Dame Winifrith.’

‘Find the butchers and hang them so Da can come home.’

‘I mean to.’ While he was there Owen thought he might as well ask if she recalled John with the wolf dog. He was glad he did.

Winifrith sent a worried glance out into the small garden where the children played. ‘Is he the monster who’s murdered two good men and sent my da diving into the Ouse?’

‘Your father thought he might have been one of the men last night. Do you know anything more about him?’

She shook her head. ‘But ask any mother along the river and she’ll tell you he enjoyed frightening the children with that beast of his. He kicked one of the neighbor’s boys for throwing a pebble to keep the dog away, and the dog bit the poor lad in the leg. But that was several years ago. I thought us well rid of him. God help us.’ She crossed herself.

As they approached the Swann house, Lucie asked Ned how well he knew Alisoun.

‘I saw her every day when she and Dame Magda were caring for Archbishop Thoresby at Bishopthorpe, though I spoke to her only once or twice.’ He blushed and averted his eyes, looking relieved when a servant welcomed them into the hall.

‘Have a care. Dame Muriel’s well-being is in Alisoun’s hands, and hers alone. Consult her regarding anything relating to the mistress of the house.’

‘I will. And I’ll keep to the shadows so she forgets I’m there.’ Ned spoke with resolve.

Lucie bit back a smile at the thought of two stout wills colliding.

The house was quiet, subdued, the servants going about their work in silent watchfulness. Even Alisoun moved so quietly coming up behind Lucie that she startled her with a touch on her shoulder. She welcomed them both with warmth, noting that she’d not seen Ned since Bishopthorpe.

They smiled at each other, then both looked away.

Lucie thought it a good time to explain why he was there.

Alisoun thanked them, moving straight to a description of the behavior of the two men who had passed her in the yard, and how they smelled. ‘They reeked of dog, as if they’d been rolling about in a kennel. And blood, though it wasn’t until we were in the Fenton garden that I sorted that part. I smelled no ale on them.’ She nodded to Ned. ‘You will want to present yourself to the cook. He will tell you your duties, and where you will sleep.’

Lucie suggested she go up to Muriel. Alisoun and Ned rose as one, then he headed for the kitchen.

In the solar, Muriel sat by a small window, a bit of embroidery lying forgotten on her lap. She turned as they entered, greeting Lucie with a shake of her head. ‘I said no visitors, Alisoun.’

‘Dame Lucie has brought a physick to calm you and bring up your appetite, but she cannot advise me of the correct dosage without seeing you.’

Lucie sat down on a stool beside the grieving mother-to-be and took her hand. Despite the warmth of the day and of the room Muriel’s hand was cold. Lucie studied her eyes, felt her pulse, sniffed her breath. ‘You need food.’ Lucie told the servant who waited by the door to bring her mistress some broth. ‘Easily digested, even at such a time.’ Only now did she mention Muriel’s terrible loss. They sat in silence for a few moments, Lucie listening to Muriel’s shallow breathing. At last she rose to give the woman some privacy while instructing Alisoun regarding the physick, a small dosage during the day, more at night. Behind her, she heard Muriel begin to weep. She pressed a cloth to her mouth, as if trying to silence herself. Lucie returned to sit beside her, taking her free hand.

‘I depend on your husband to find the men who took Hoban from me,’ said Muriel. ‘And his father.’