A Conspiracy of Wolves

‘Chaucer told me that’s what he’s saying.’ Erkenwald’s battle scars twisted his grin into a grimace. ‘I didn’t correct him. But the truth is far less heroic. He and his comrades stole a wagonload of wine, casks of it. They were already in their cups, and the lot who were riding in the back of the wagon tapped a cask and guzzled until they started brawling. Poole fell out over the wheel and his arm got caught in the spokes. Mangled.’

Owen winced, imagining the agony. ‘Poor devil. The memory of it must still bring on a cold sweat.’

‘Some did call him a devil. But I wish such pain on no man.’

Interesting how much Erkenwald had chosen not to share with Geoffrey.

‘After the accident, he somehow moved into trade. In Avignon. Considering how he had risen before–’ Erkenwald’s expressive brows finished the thought.

‘A patron for whom he did favors?’

‘So I imagined. Someone who appreciated a protégé good with a knife, his hands, and ruthless. He might have lost a hand, but not his knife hand. As you have learned to compensate for one eye, so might he become proficient with one hand.’ He shook his head. ‘God forgive me, but I fear it was an ill wind brought him back home. You know he grew up here.’

‘I do. It seems he was friends with Hoban Swann, perhaps Paul Braithwaite, Adam Tirwhit?’

‘I know nothing about that. But he seems a lonely man now. A falling out?’

‘I know less than you. Was Alexander Neville in Avignon at the time?’

Erkenwald studied Owen. ‘You are thinking he has come to be watch and ward for the new archbishop?’

‘I am thinking I must learn whether there was trouble between the Swanns and the Nevilles, though they are hardly of the same status.’ He told him of the event at the Fentons the previous day, and Lucie’s discovery at the minster yard. ‘An organized assault stinks of the Nevilles.’

‘Or some powerful family.’ Erkenwald glanced round. ‘We appear to have been fortunate. No sign of dogs in the hospital grounds.’

‘You are indeed graced,’ said Owen. ‘Have you met with Crispin Poole often since his return?’

‘Several times, though not by choice. He came to me, wanting me to know that he has sought forgiveness for his sins, worn a hair shirt, done endless penances – fasting, celibacy – and that he’d returned to right a wrong he had committed in running away from the city so long ago. But he discovered it cannot be righted. He can never make reparation for his lapse in courage.’

‘What was the wrong?’

‘That he did not say. And I did not care to ask. I am sorry to disappoint you.’ Erkenwald shook his head at a lay sister bearing a basket and shears who asked if her cutting some late roses for the church would disturb them.

Owen waited until she was at the far end of the garden before speaking. ‘Righting a wrong. Perhaps he came of his own accord, to settle an account with the coroner of Galtres.’ He was testing the idea.

‘And the first time he murdered the wrong Swann?’ Erkenwald asked.

‘He was in the York Tavern the night of Hoban’s murder. And he was there the night of Bartolf’s murder as well, though he left shortly after Bartolf did.’

‘So it is unlikely he is the murderer.’

‘Or he left the deed to others.’

‘A man known for his skill with a knife? Would he find that satisfying?’ Erkenwald laughed at Owen’s grin. ‘I was a soldier first.’

‘You were indeed.’

‘What is your impression of the man?’ Erkenwald asked.

‘The times we drank together in the York Tavern I found him an easy companion, well spoken, curious about events during his absence, a solitary soul, though he’s living with his mother. But it might all be a careful guise donned for my benefit. If he is the one who’s murdered Hoban and Bartolf, he has been careless. So careless as to suggest he believes he is above the law. I fear for York if that is so. Whose creature must he be, to have such confidence?’ Owen took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair.

‘That is an unsettling thought.’

‘I can pray Poole is here for the reason he gave you, rather than to clear a path for a powerful patron. For all our sakes.’

‘Unless his disappointment in discovering he cannot make amends led him to murder,’ said Erkenwald.

‘I cannot yet make sense of it,’ said Owen.

‘Why hesitate? Confront him.’

‘If he is well backed and fiendishly clever, I will have revealed my suspicions to no purpose. He’ll slide out from beneath my boot the wiser for it. I need to know as much as possible before I speak to him.’ Owen cursed under his breath. ‘If I were in Prince Edward’s household, I might perhaps know the name of Poole’s patron.’

‘Is that reason enough to accept the prince’s offer?’

‘In truth, I doubt he will permit me the choice – phrasing it as such is a courtesy. Until I refuse. It is a command, not an offer. You see it otherwise?’

Erkenwald grunted. ‘I think you are right. I will miss you.’

‘Miss me? He wants me here in York, except when I am calling on the great families at their castles and manors, with Lucie on my arm. A knight’s daughter. He likes that.’

‘A cunning plan. Will he knight you?’