In the late afternoon, Lucie had agreed that Jasper might spend time in the apothecary filling orders. Outside the apothecary workshop he found a handsome dog, young, yet with large paws, sitting by the door. He’d come alert as Jasper approached, as if on guard duty. Jasper crouched to let the pup smell his hand, then rubbed him behind his long, soft ears. The pup licked his hand.
‘Good boy,’ he murmured as he began to straighten. His ribs still protested against such movement and he had to press a hand to the wall to help himself rise.
From the workroom he heard Alisoun out in the shop with a customer. Speaking softly, both of them, so he could not decipher words. He found the wax tablets listing the unfilled orders, plenty to keep him busy for a while. As he set to work he relaxed, humming to himself, glad to be moving about and distracted from his remorse. He did not know how long she had been standing in the doorway watching him before he noticed her as he retrieved a jar of powdered mallow.
‘Humming while you work.’ She smiled. ‘It is gladsome work, healing.’
‘I feel worthwhile. I’ve not felt that of late.’
‘You saved your sister.’
‘Or did I cause her to risk her safety to prove herself?’
‘Are you taking up the way of the flagellants? Calling your very life a sin?’
He felt himself blushing. ‘I accused Gwen of betraying me and then lying about her innocence. I wouldn’t even believe my father swearing she’d not told him. And then what I said about you …’
‘I don’t deny you’ve seemed intent on hurting the women who care for you, but Reynard injured Gwen, not you. You chased after her to protect her.’
‘You care for me? Even after what I said? And wouldn’t listen to you?’
‘I do. Maybe not the way–’
He reached for her hand. Held it against his heart. ‘What I said … I had no cause. I apologize. What can I do to make amends?’
Gently she withdrew her hand. ‘I accept your apology. It appears your friends managed to prevent everyone in the city from hearing. But there is more to this, Jasper, more than what you are willing to see, I think.’ She turned at the sound of the shop-door bell. ‘Wait here.’
‘I’m not waiting, I’m working. But stay a moment. Who owns the dog sitting outside the door?’
‘Magda, in trade for delivering a baby and setting a broken arm. Both in the same household.’ She laughed. ‘He’s well trained, but a rock in the middle of the river is no place for a dog. We hope to find a home for him.’
‘Handsome.’
‘Yes.’ Her mouth smiled, but her eyes were sad. ‘I must see to the customer.’
As he returned to his work he no longer hummed, his mind abuzz with questions. What did she mean, more to this than he was willing to see? Did she think he’d meant what he said? Didn’t she understand jealousy? Though he did blame her. Of course he did. And she knew she was to blame – why else did it take her a year to confess?
He growled when he realized he had lost track of what he’d measured. Wasteful. And dangerous. He sat down on a high stool and buried his head in his hands.
‘Jasper?’
He glanced up.
Alisoun watched him, her large brown eyes dark with some emotion. Concern? Pity? ‘I should not have started this when I knew we would be interrupted. But that was the last customer. I have shut the apothecary for the evening. Might I bring my companion inside?’
‘As long as he behaves.’
He listened to her speak softly to the dog. When she returned, the pup padded along at her side. She pointed to the corner and he settled, his long face resting on his paws.
‘What am I not willing to see?’ he asked.
Alisoun drew a stool over to where he was working, repositioning it several times. Jasper watched with growing dread as she fussed and moved it about, guessing that she was about to tell him something she knew he would not like. More? There was more she’d held back? At last she settled not too far from him, where she might rest her feet on a bench, but not within reach. He heard the dog give a soft sigh.
‘I am not accustomed to so much standing in place.’ Alisoun winced. ‘I sound like an old woman!’
‘Never.’
‘You are kind. And I know that is your way. Which is what made your recent behavior so unlike you. To punish Gwen as you did, and for no reason. I could not understand why you were doing it. And then to drink so much with your friends, aim your arrow – my arrow – at someone in the dark.’
‘You heard about that?’
‘Forgive me. I overheard your parents speaking of it.’
He frowned down at his hands. Did she expect him to explain what he himself did not understand?
‘I was glad the captain offered you a way to test what you want – that night on the roof, and that you accepted the test.’
He glanced up, uncertain where she was headed. Her brow crinkled in concern. His heart leapt a little. She did care. ‘I failed him,’ he said.
She leaned toward him, her eyes fixed on his. ‘But you learned something that night, didn’t you?’
‘I’m no soldier.’
Alisoun thrust her chin forward as if frustrated. ‘Wasn’t it that you don’t care to be a soldier? That it is not why you enjoy practicing at the butts? You enjoy proving yourself, gaining strength, making your father proud. But you do not care to go further, to devote your life to it.’
‘No. You’re right.’
‘Did you know that before?’
‘I never thought to be a soldier.’ He could tell his responses did not satisfy. ‘What do you want? That’s the truth.’
She looked away for a moment, then said, ‘I ask because I hoped it might help you understand why I’m going away. Taking the routes that Magda takes in flood season, seeing to the people on the moors. That is, if Magda agrees.’
‘Go away? Why? Why would you do that?’
‘I need to try working alone, find my own path.’
‘You’re going to search for Einar.’
She reared back and he wished he had not spoken.
‘Aren’t you listening? Not like Einar. Magda sent him away to discover what he wants. My path is already clear to me. I’m called to be a healer. But what are my strengths? Do I still need to be near Magda, or can I spend months, even years, away from my teacher and continue to grow in my skill? Do I have something to learn from another teacher?’
‘Years? What about us?’
‘What about us?’ She repeated it softly. It was almost a sigh. ‘That is another reason to go. I don’t know that we are meant to be together. I think the wife you dream of, always there to see to you, working beside you in the shop, in the garden, that is not what I want. When I’ve gone with Magda up on the moors my senses are keener, my thoughts clearer, and I feel – I think it’s like Dame Marian’s call to be a nun.’
He almost snarled about a whore becoming a nun, but he caught himself. He was hurt, as he’d been when he blamed Gwen. But he did want to understand. ‘Did you feel that when you took Asa up on the moors?’ And lay with Einar, he thought, but did not say.
‘I did feel free. And I learned from that as well.’
‘You want to wander, like Asa?’
‘Not like her. Magda says her daughter is ever running from the trouble she causes. I want to find those who need a healer like me. Perhaps I will come upon people who need me as the people here needed Magda when she arrived.’
‘It sounds like a long wandering.’
‘I know.’
He waited for her to say something to soften it – that it would be hard to be away so long, that she would miss him. But she just studied his face with those big eyes. God help him, he loved those eyes, her slender face and neck holding up that crown of rich brown hair. He had thought she was his and he had been so proud to have won her love. How wrong he’d been.
‘That’s why you pulled away from me that night. It wasn’t only that you hadn’t told me about Einar, but that you were finished with me.’
Alisoun flinched. ‘I didn’t know. I thought it was my guilt about what I’d kept from you. Maybe I waited so long because I feared it might be so.’
‘That makes it even worse that you didn’t tell me. All this time I thought you loved me.’
‘I do, Jasper. But not as a husband.’ She held up a hand as he started to speak. ‘Do not say what you will regret. What you said about me to your friends …’
‘I was angry. Of course I was. You cuckolded me.’
‘We are not wed.’
‘No, but everyone expected that we would.’
‘You are thinking only of your pain. You don’t ask about mine.’
‘Pain?’ The word came out harsh, sneering. ‘Forgive me. I didn’t mean that. But what are you saying. That I hurt you?’
‘It’s not that. I’ve feared I wouldn’t make you happy. And that hurt. All that dreaming, planning how we would live, all the while worrying what would happen when you began to understand what I wanted.’
‘I love you as you are.’
‘As you want to see me.’
Did she call him a fool? Blinded by love? ‘The dog is for your wandering, isn’t he?’
‘What? No. I told you. He’s Magda’s.’ Her eyes suddenly widened. ‘Oh. Dame Lucie.’
The draft he’d felt from the garden door moments ago. Jasper looked over his shoulder. God help him, his mother stood in the doorway, looking from him to Alisoun and back with an apologetic expression.
‘Forgive me for interrupting, but Alisoun is summoned to a birthing.’
Alisoun took a step toward him, her arms out, conciliatory. Why? She didn’t want him. Did she think he could touch her and not care?
‘Go,’ he growled. ‘And you don’t need to return. I am sufficiently recovered to open the shop tomorrow.’ He turned his back to her.
He heard her sigh, go to the shop for something. Returning, she asked his mother who summoned her, called softly to the dog, opened and shut the garden door. He did not look up until he was certain she had left.
But his mother remained.
‘Jasper, I am sorry.’
‘Don’t be.’ He moved a jar on the table, reached for another. ‘Best I knew what she was before we wed.’
He heard her step closer. ‘What do you mean, Jasper?’ Her voice was the quiet one she used when on the verge of anger.
Judging him. Always judging him, all of them. He turned to her. ‘Are you going to defend her? She slept with Einar. But she doesn’t love him. Now she wants to go wandering. To taste more men? A whore, that’s what she means to be.’
He expected a slap, but she just inhaled sharply and said, ‘Your remorse for slandering her was short-lived. Have you heard anything she’s said after telling you she lay with Einar?’
‘She’s told you I won’t listen?’
‘I am guessing you will not because of how you are now. To be honest, I always worried that she might not make you happy. When you spoke of your plans, I could not imagine her in them. They were your dreams, not hers. She has always wanted to be more like Magda than like me.’
‘Now you say it?’
‘I might have been wrong.’
‘Please go. I don’t want to talk now.’
‘I will go when I’ve said what needs to be said. You are my apprentice as well as my son. I am responsible for ensuring that you are of good character and will respect the people you serve before I recommend you to the guild. If you slander a young woman because she will not bend to your will, I will report it.’
‘What?’
‘You are fortunate that your friends protected you.’ She leaned close and kissed his cheek.
‘You’re on her side.’
‘No sides, Jasper. What Alisoun did breaks my heart. But slandering her will not change it.’ She touched his cheek, then departed.
He hated her. Hated all women. And he wished he were dead.
Wind drove an icy drizzle into his face as Owen crossed the garden and the tavern yard. He paused beneath the eaves of the York, shaking the rain off his hat and raking his hands through his hair. Warmth, light, and a cacophony of voices radiated from the tavern room as he opened the door.
‘Business is good,’ he said to Tom Merchet.
‘When the weather closes in, aye. Saved your usual table back in the corner. Poole just arrived. And I see Hempe coming up behind you. How is Gwen?’
‘Much better, God be thanked. Wanting to walk about, play with Hugh and Emma.’
‘Is it true about her ear?’
Owen nodded, not trusting his voice despite the din. The mere mention knotted his stomach and brought on images of beating Reynard into a stupor from which he would never wake.
Seeming to sense Owen’s mood shift, Tom said he would follow him to the table with a full jug.
Hempe tapped Owen’s shoulder. ‘A group of men were coming up behind me, talking about Gerald Trent. Neville’s men?’
Owen glanced out in the yard. ‘Sir Francis and his men, aye. Go on back to the table and warn Poole. Tom, might we shove a few more tables together to accommodate five more?’
With a nod and a wink, Tom called out for Tupper and the two went to work. Bess bustled behind them, listening to Tom’s instructions, pausing near one of the tables already claimed, telling the men they’d have a round on the house if they would be so kind as to move to one nearer the door. Heads bobbed and the men rose.
‘Captain Archer,’ said Sir Francis. ‘We came to join you for a round. On me, of course.’
Owen nodded. ‘The Merchets are adding some room for you. How did you know to find me here?’
‘Brother Oswald.’ The hospitaller. ‘I felt the men deserved some time away from the abbey.’
‘Many a night I opened a barrel and invited all the men to indulge.’
Reaching the table, Owen introduced Francis to Poole and Hempe, and Francis, in turn, named his men. While they all settled at the now long table, Tom and Bess set tankards before them, filling them from jugs. As the Merchets disappeared into the crowd that watched the gang with curiosity, Owen lifted his tankard. ‘To old mates and new.’
Settling in for a long evening, he drank little, though often lifting the tankard to his mouth. He noticed several of the men watching Crispin Poole, then whispering amongst themselves.
Poole must have noticed as well. ‘I’ve met several of your men in the field,’ he noted to Sir Francis. ‘Did you serve in France?’
‘No. Up on the border with Scotland.’ He glanced at his men. ‘Hal and Mark are the archers, and Phillip, Carl, and I can handle bows but are far more comfortable with sword and dagger. We’d all appreciate training with you, Captain. Brother Oswald is organizing a butt near the guest house.’
‘I will come tomorrow. I cannot promise when.’
‘Thank you. We will be there.’
Hempe proposed they talk about where everyone might be on the day Wykeham departed, and they fell into a discussion, sorting out posts for various routes. Owen did not mention the radically different arrangement coming together in his mind, but the time was not wasted, for all now had a sense of the others’ strengths. By the time they wandered off to other subjects, the four not involved in the discussion were well and truly drunk.
‘Tom Merchet’s ale is potent,’ said Poole.
‘And the best I’ve tasted,’ said Sir Francis. On his way out, shepherding his men with care, he paused to loudly proclaim to Tom his admiration.
‘Well then,’ said Bess, pausing by Owen, ‘this has been a good night for my Tom.’ She hummed to herself as she and Tupper began to move the tables back to their usual positions. Owen and Hempe rose to help, but she shooed them away. ‘I daresay you will have much to discuss amongst yourselves. Be easy.’
She was right. High on Owen’s list was finding out what Poole knew about Hal and Mark.
Jasper stayed long in the workshop, but eventually his body ached and his stomach growled. He found Magda sitting before the fire in the kitchen, a bowl of ale beside her on the settle.
‘Kate left the stew warming for thee. Bring thy food and ale here and ease thy bones.’
Though he felt that if anyone might help him see what he wasn’t seeing, it was Dame Magda, he was tempted to take his food back to the workshop, not knowing how ready he was to hear it. But neither did he want to continue as he’d been. So he stayed, dishing up stew, helping himself to bread and ale on the table, and joining Magda on the settle.
‘I met the dog you received in trade,’ he said. ‘Seems well trained.’
‘Tom Carver said his older dog wanted the hound pup gone. He’s not a man will see an animal wasted and hoped Magda might find him a good home.’
‘He seemed patient and obedient.’ He noticed how Magda smiled, as if delighted with something. ‘Do you mean for Alisoun to keep him?’
Still smiling, Magda tilted her head as if trying to understand his question. ‘Dost thou think Magda’s rock is a proper home for a spirited young dog?’
‘No, but …’ He usually enjoyed playing with Magda’s riddling, but not tonight. ‘No matter.’ He tried to eat his stew, but the silence taunted him. ‘You heard about my argument with Alisoun?’
‘Magda saw thy mother’s face after fetching Alisoun for the birthing. She guessed the rest.’
‘You know about Alisoun and Einar?’
‘Magda knows of their night together.’
‘She betrayed me.’
Magda grunted. ‘Dost thou believe she meant to wound thee?’
‘She must have known that it would. I think that’s why she waited so long to confess to me. How long have you known about it?’
‘Since the day she told thee.’ She raised a brow. ‘Thou hast not answered the question. Dost thou believe she meant to wound thee?’
‘I doubt she thought of me that night.’
Magda stared into the fire.
Jasper ate some stew, chewed on a piece of bread, glancing at Magda, wondering what she was thinking. ‘No, I don’t think she meant to hurt me. But she did.’
Magda nodded, then returned to her quiet study of the fire.
He gulped down his ale and rose.
She glanced up, meeting his gaze. ‘Does Alisoun share thy pain?’
‘How could she? I didn’t betray her and wait a year to tell her.’ But she had spoken of pain. ‘How should I know?’
‘Thou hast known her a long while.’
‘I thought I did. And I thought you would give me advice, but you’re just like all the rest, judging me.’
‘Judging? No. That is not Magda’s way.’
‘Feels like it.’
‘Magda sees a young man who is confused, uncertain what is in his heart. But pain and pride prevent him from seeing it. Magda cannot help what is unseen.’
Feeling the anger spark in him, he closed his mouth and sank down beside her. No more of that. ‘I tried to apologize, but I can’t seem to say the right thing.’ He blew his hair off his forehead, hot from the fire and the warm food. ‘Alisoun doesn’t think she’d make me happy.’ He thought about what she’d said and felt sick to his stomach. ‘She told me what she thinks I want, and that it’s not what she wants.’ He made himself think about what else she’d said, all that he’d tried to push away. ‘She wants to go away for awhile, be a traveling healer.’
While he was speaking, Magda fetched the jug of ale and replenished their bowls.
‘Is there truth in what she says?’ Magda asked as she handed him his bowl.
A lump in his throat kept his answer to a nod. He took a long drink, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
‘What didst thou say to that?’
‘I called her a whore – said it to her and to my friends.’ Deep breath. He needed to face it all. ‘Seems my friends made sure no one else heard. I don’t know how I’ll face them again.’
‘Friends forget such things,’ said Magda.
He hoped that was true. ‘But Alisoun …’ Remembering all he’d said, he was shamed by her kindness. ‘How can she forget? When she told me about going away, I accused her of doing it so she could keep whoring.’ Tears stung his eyes and his face felt hot.
Magda put an arm round him, gently drawing his head to her shoulder. ‘Hush now, breathe for a moment.’
She smelled of woodsmoke, herbs, and spice.
But he couldn’t breathe easy. ‘I can’t stop thinking I’m to blame for what happened to my sister. Gwen wouldn’t have gone after Rhys if I hadn’t been mean to her.’
‘Thou art not the cause of her decision. She thought Rhys a man she might love, but then it appeared he betrayed her family. She followed to know whether he might be trusted after all.’
‘She’s but a child.’
‘To thee she is a child. But she likes to think herself a young woman.’ Magda smoothed the hair from his forehead. ‘Thou art half asleep. Might thou spend one more night on the pallet beside Gwen? It is a comfort to her. Tomorrow she will be ready to return to her chamber with Hugh and Emma.’
Jasper sat up, rubbing his eyes. He ached all over. ‘And Rhys?’
‘His will be a slow healing.’
‘But he will live?’
‘If he has the will.’
‘The dog. Do you mean for him to be Alisoun’s companion on her travels?’
‘What did she tell thee?’
‘The same thing you did.’
‘Why dost thou not accept her answer?’
He frowned. His thoughts were getting jumbled. ‘Is that what I do? Never take her at her word?’
‘Is it?’
Upon rising, Jasper steadied himself with a hand on the back of the settle, breathless from the pain in his ribs. ‘I think maybe that is what I do. Or don’t do.’
Magda came round to take his elbow and guide him to the hall. His mother was sitting between Rhys and Gwen, telling a tale of a cobbler and an angel. One of his favorites when he was first living here and frightening dreams woke him in the night. He lay down beside Gwen and fell asleep to the telling. He dreamed of a tiny angel riding a pure white wolfhound.
Owen watched the room, curious what the Merchets’ customers had thought of sharing their tavern with a knight and his men. Frowns and whispers, with furtive glances his way. The first deaths had at least been outside the city, but Jonas and his manservant had died within the walls, and Owen’s own children had been attacked in the city, as well as a carter for the Bishop of Winchester. Now to see a knight and his men conferring with the captain of the city, one of his bailiffs, and the coroner of Galtres – of course they were uneasy. And until Owen ended Reynard’s reign of terror, he could not reassure them. All were not safe.
He turned toward what he could do. ‘Tell me about Mark and Hal,’ he said to Poole. ‘Who were they serving?’
‘You mean who abandoned them in France? King Edward, Prince Edward, Lancaster, it did not matter, the nobles left us there and we found each other. I met them on the road. They were seeking patronage from a wealthy Frenchman to protect property, earn enough to sail home. They wanted no part of my company. They knew we were robbing and pillaging our way through the land.’
Hempe listened, wide-eyed with disbelief.
‘They saw my dark side,’ Poole said. ‘Angry, hungry for the power given me through violence.’ He lifted the stump, all that was left of his right arm. ‘I did not understand the justice of this until my beloved Muriel helped me see a different way to live. My own doing, drunk and still believing I controlled the world.’
‘You had begun the change by returning to York,’ Owen noted. ‘But what you describe. You were much like Reynard, then, though I doubt he was ever part of such a company.’
‘To my shame. Hearing about him, worrying about my family with him on the loose – it’s a mirror held up to me. I have tried to think how I might help you. As your friend, as a citizen of the city, and as repentance.’
‘I am listening.’
‘Everything I did was to show that I was invincible, the rightful leader of the men. No one could touch me. I flaunted how easily I influenced men. I cared nothing about the quality of those followers. You understand why Hal and Mark eyed me with suspicion.’
‘I did not realize,’ said Hempe. ‘You do sound like Reynard as Owen paints him.’
‘So it is nothing you don’t already know,’ said Poole with a sigh.
‘Tell me this,’ said Owen. ‘Considering everything you know, what would be your plan for Wykeham’s departure?’
‘My purpose would be to show you incapable of protecting the Bishop of Winchester. Now with the added advantage of humbling you in front of Sir John Neville’s men.’
‘So you would first go after the bishop,’ said Owen.
‘In a public way. And I would have my second attack your family.’
‘God help us,’ said Hempe. ‘We should surround your home and the apothecary with men.’
‘Madoc is likely his second,’ said Owen. ‘A good archer, though not as quick as Reynard, or as clever.’ Though clever enough to have coerced the boy to watch the archdeacon’s house. Unless that had been Reynard. Owen had been considering a plan that might fool Madoc. But it was not enough. He saw that now. ‘I need archers on Wykeham and on my family on the day of departure, as well as the priory.’
‘The priory,’ said Poole, thoughtfully. ‘My mother says Prioress Isobel has the lay workers walking a watch at night, armed with pitchforks.’ His mother had retired to the nunnery. ‘A precaution to be recommended. But I doubt they are in danger until Wykeham’s party arrives to collect the sisters.’
Owen agreed. ‘I will ask the sheriff to have his men stationed along the road between Micklegate Bar and the priory.’
‘Archers on the bridge as well,’ said Hempe. ‘On the rooftops.’
Poole was not enthused. ‘Why not go along the river? I walk that way once a week. A shorter distance, easier to defend, and the autumn rains have not yet filled what remains of the moat of the Old Baile. With no wagons, crossing is not difficult.’
‘Still means crossing the bridge over the Ouse,’ said Hempe.
Imagining arrows flying amidst the crowds on the Ouse Bridge brought home to Owen the flaw in the plans. ‘Too much in a busy city.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘This is what Reynard wants, pushing me to endanger the people I am meant to protect.’
Poole agreed.
‘We need to outwit him,’ said Owen. ‘Have our men ready, visibly deployed, to be used if all else fails, but, we hope, only to distract him from our purpose.’
Poole studied Owen. ‘He will delight in imagining the chaos you inflict.’
‘Still, we should be prepared to protect them with force,’ said Hempe.
‘Agreed. And it’s important that only a few of us know the real plan. Not the men. Perhaps not even Sir Francis.’
Hempe thumped his tankard on the table. ‘You’re saying you don’t trust our men, Owen?’
‘Quiet,’ Poole growled. ‘Everyone is watching us.’
Owen leaned his head back and laughed loudly. ‘Of course I knew they were having a bit of fun,’ he said, grinning and slapping the table as he rose. ‘And now for sleep. I have a long day ahead of me.’
Poole took a last gulp of ale, then followed. ‘Muriel will be wondering where I fled.’
‘I’ve men to see to before I head home,’ Hempe muttered, the first to push out through the crowd.
Bess patted his shoulder as he passed. He put a hand on hers, nodding his appreciation.
‘I’ll have a word with him outside,’ Owen told her as he followed. In a louder voice he expressed his gratitude to Bess for helping him impress Neville’s men. ‘And Tom’s fine ale.’
‘You bring us custom, we see that they leave smiling,’ she said.
Tom met his eye as he stepped out the door. ‘You carry a weight, my friend.’