A Conspiracy of Wolves

How could she be so certain? ‘I’ll borrow yours for now, until I’ve made some progress.’

She kissed the scar radiating out from his left eye. ‘I have more than enough faith in you for both of us. It’s past dawn, my love, and you wanted to catch Erkenwald before he goes on his alms rounds. You must hurry!’

They made their way down the steps, shoes in hands so as not to wake the children. In the kitchen, Kate had set up a table by the open garden door, bread, cheese, and fruit, a pitcher of Tom Merchet’s ale.

‘The bread and ale are fresh this morning. My sister Rose brought the bread from Ma’s kitchen. She stayed long enough to tell me the old one is on the mend, and eats more than the two of them together.’ They had agreed not to mention Old Bede by name so that they might not slip elsewhere.

‘No unexpected visitors?’

‘A few seeking a healer, and they explained Mistress Alisoun’s absence, where she might be found if they could not wait. And a man, asking whether they had seen a body in the river.’

‘Did he give them trouble?’ Owen asked.

‘Not my Rose and Rob. They told him a tale about a terrifying beast, half-wolf, half-boar, that had chased them in Galtres, and they had sought the dragon’s protection. They begged him not to tell the Riverwoman or her apprentice that they had been trespassing, but they were so afraid. He cursed them and went away. In truth, I don’t know whether to laugh or pray.’

Lucie took her hand. ‘They’ve wit and courage. But I pray for them all the day. Are they worried?’

‘A little. They say there is something out there. Silences – all the birds quiet, as if on alert. Something’s prowling out there. And folk in the shacks against the abbey wall have seen men with dogs as big as wolves – some claim they are wolves. But they keep their distance. There’s been no trouble.’

‘Yet,’ Lucie whispered, sending Owen a worried look.

Kate did not seem to notice. ‘My brother is practicing his knife throwing and has set up a butt to practice with the bow. Rob believes with such a martial display anyone with a thought to attack will think twice.’ She laughed and turned to fuss with a pot hanging over the fire.

Such display means nothing to a hungry dog, Owen thought.

‘And it was Jasper who brought the ale from the York Tavern,’ Kate went on. ‘He said all was quiet in the night, and he’s opened the shop, so you need not hurry, Dame Lucie.’

‘Jasper’s opened the shop so early?’ Lucie glanced toward the door.

Owen reached for her hand and coaxed her to sit, promising he would take the time to talk to their son before he went to St Leonard’s. ‘The memory of you smiling at me across the table will warm me through the day.’ It worked, and he pushed all thought of the day ahead from his mind, talking instead about the garden, his plans for changes at the manor that had been gifted him, including the house, which had been neglected for a long while. ‘I could use your advice about that.’

Lucie seemed far away as she broke up some bread.

‘What are you thinking?’ Owen asked.

‘We might wish to go sooner rather than later, combine the visit to your manor with one to Paul Braithwaite’s. You said he mentioned it was close to Freythorpe Hadden, so it is close to your land as well.’

‘Braithwaite’s? Why?’

‘I don’t like the handler being so quiet, so unhelpful to Alfred,’ said Lucie. ‘A master of hounds loves to talk hounds. Galbot was his name? It may simply be that Bartolf’s beloved dogs have found a new home with him, and he fears we will tell the Swanns, who will retrieve them. But whatever it is, we should know.’

‘I hope we need not call on Paul Braithwaite at his home,’ said Owen, ‘that the murderers make a mistake and reveal themselves before we travel south again.’

‘If Alfred comes with news, I’ll send him to St Leonard’s?’

‘Yes. Tell him that I will head to the Braithwaite home after I’m finished at the hospital.’

Lucie rose and bent to kiss the top of his head, kneading his shoulders. ‘Now go on, see what our son is about.’

He found Jasper sitting on the floor of the workroom behind the shop, a large space that had once been the kitchen and hearth place of their home, before Lucie’s father bought the large house across the garden for them. Jasper was pulling the bound shop ledgers from a low shelf, stacking them up.

‘What is this?’

‘Mother hid Nicholas Wilton’s journals from me.’

‘She had thought for good cause. Had you not walked with Alisoun, had she gone that way without a lantern–’

‘But I did.’

‘It was your manner, son. And now since she understands why you behaved so, she’s been too busy to fetch it. Remind her – she won’t fuss. Want to lock up and walk with me to St Leonard’s?’

Jasper looked relieved, but he shook his head at the invitation. ‘I need to put these away and go out to the counter to see to customers.’

‘I do not know what we would do without you, son.’

A shy grin, a shrug, and Jasper busied himself with the task.