A Conspiracy of Wolves

‘No. They were fighting and fussing about today, what to wear, who would be at the church, then at the meal. Master Adam was that angry that it was to be only kin. He said Master Bartolf was coroner and deserved the mayor and council in attendance. The mistress said he cared not a whit about her father but wanted to preen before the important folk. Why? Is he important?’ Wren turned to look at him, but he was disappearing between the stalls.

‘Let me know if he comes back to the house,’ Alisoun said, then hurried after him.

‘You can trust me!’ Wren called after her.

Pray God she knew better than to do that. Though Alisoun pushed her way through the crowd, she saw no sign of the man. But she knew more than before, enough to know that she must tell the captain everything. She would take him aside at the dinner later. And, after she had completed the shopping, she had a thought to take a look at the Tirwhit residence.

At the cutler she picked out a flesh hook for the cook, and a cheap rush light holder for Dame Muriel’s maidservant.

Hurrying back to the house with her basket of gifts, she took her first opportunity to ask Dame Muriel how she might know the missing manservant – in case he was about in the city.

‘Joss?’ Muriel made a face. ‘You would know him by the wart on his nose. A disgusting thing. Have you seen him?’

‘I did not know what to look for.’

‘Now you do. Come, set all this aside. We will present the gifts to the staff in the kitchen before the feast in hopes of lifting their spirits so they might carry out their duties on this sorrowful day.’

Alisoun made a show of realizing she’d forgotten something. ‘I will not be long, Dame Muriel.’ Up in the bedchamber she tucked her bow and quiver in a sack and slipped down the steps to the yard.

9 A Dog in the Night

Owen felt the weight of his responsibility as he parted with his friend, mulling over his words, In Thoresby’s service you had both the city and the realm in your hands. To recreate that you must needs accept both offers – captain of York’s bailiffs and spy for the prince. A double burden. Was that what he wanted?

As he made his way out of the hospital grounds the morning dimmed, a cluster of clouds obscuring what had been a bright morning sun. Footless Lane was quiet, but as Owen rounded the corner onto Coney Street he once again fielded questions about Old Bede, expressions of relief that he was investigating the deaths, and queries as to when the Swanns would be buried. Beneath it all, he questioned his hesitation about Crispin Poole. So many fingers pointing to him, a man of war, a man of violence, with retainers to carry out his blood-feud while he sat at the York Tavern. But what was the feud? What were the Swanns to him? That was the missing piece. He shook himself out of the puzzle. He must be alert, this day of all days.

On the route from the Braithwaite home, past the Swanns’, round toward St Helen’s, the bailiffs’ men stood with hands on weapons, making a clear statement of their intent – to guard the funeral procession with force, if necessary.

Bless Hempe. Difficult to believe he and the man had begun as adversaries. But, thinking back to George’s early distrust of Owen it was clear he’d simply been doing his job, protecting the folk of York from what seemed to him an untrustworthy toady of the archbishop. To Owen, George Hempe had been a bumbler preventing him from solving the murder of a midwife who had saved Lucie’s life. Now he trusted Hempe, understood him, but also knew his limitations. Owen had made certain his own men were in place, Ned at the Swann home, Alfred at the church, and, once the Braithwaites departed, Stephen would be in place to stand guard at their home. Owen was just wondering where Stephen was when the man hailed him.

‘Anything odd at Poole’s home?’ Owen asked as Stephen joined him. He’d placed him there for the early morning, out of curiosity more than suspicion. He was glad of it now.

‘Quiet. All the noise came from the Tirwhit house beside him. They are a fighting couple, though once they stepped out of the house they played the loving pair. Their maidservant left shortly after they did, very early, but not with them.’

‘Any cause to think the maid was heading for trouble – or to cause it?’

Stephen’s craggy face drew down into thought. ‘Had a basket over her arm, a light step. I took her to be a lass on her way to market, nothing more.’

‘And Hempe’s men are at Magda Digby’s?’

‘Arrived last night, they did. He chose well, Rose and Rob took to them, and they will say nothing of Old Bede’s presence. Those young ones – that’s a pair will never settle for quiet lives, I’ll wager.’

Owen grinned at the clear admiration in the man’s eyes, but it all sounded too comfortable.