Eighteen Tracking a Fox


Alisoun arrived with the dog as Owen was talking to Hempe outside the apothecary workshop.

Hempe crouched down, scratching the pup’s ears and being sniffed in return, then licked. ‘A fine fellow. What have you named him?’

‘Bard,’ said Alisoun.

‘Hah! A hound with a taste for a good tale.’ Hempe laughed as he rose.

‘Something like that.’ She turned to Owen. ‘Dame Magda came early this morning when I was breaking my fast with the new father. She was there but a moment, but time enough to tell me that you need me tomorrow morning. I said I would tell you before I went home to rest that I am glad to do it.’

‘Good news. Did she say anything else?’

‘Only that she will see to it I have the morning free. Though in our work we cannot always know what is ahead. Has Jasper agreed?’

‘He has.’ Owen could see the relief in her smile. Taking his turn to rub the dog’s ears, he asked, ‘Does Bard have a good nose?’

Hempe was nodding. ‘You’re thinking of the palace?’

Alisoun looked from one to the other. ‘He does. Why?’

‘I know you had a long night, but I wondered if I might beg a favor? Help me trace a fox to his den?’

Bard barked.

Alisoun laughed. ‘He likes the sound of that.’

‘I will explain what I need after Hempe and I settle the morning’s plans.’

‘We will await you in the kitchen. Might I introduce Bard to the children? I want him to know they are to be protected.’

Owen nodded. ‘Gwen’s in the shop, Emma and Hugh were telling Rhys a tale when I last saw them.’

‘Magda said he’d awakened. I’m glad. Come, Bard, meet my friends.’ Alisoun and the pup moved as one.

‘With Magda still here, how will those in need find either of them?’ asked Hempe.

‘They’re often both away. The children on the riverbank serve as messengers.’

They finalized plans, Alfred going out to the smithy by the Green Man to see what Frick had uncovered, Ned fetching the blood-stained bedding from Gunnell’s shop before joining Alisoun and Bard to accompany them on the tracking. Owen would give them the hat Reynard had dropped when Jasper chased him off the tavern roof.

Alisoun tucked the piece of bedding in her girdle, the hat in her scrip. ‘One at a time,’ she said, ‘in case one isn’t the fox. Where would it be best to enter the palace?’

‘From the kitchen,’ said Owen. ‘Out of sight, and a place where someone might check for food and drink.’

Ned nodded. ‘I know the way.’

Bard barked.


Wykeham motioned Owen to the seat on his left, so that his sighted side faced him. Again the small courtesy.

‘I take it I am to depart on the morrow?’

‘Yes. I doubt you wish to prolong this.’

‘Indeed. I have been burden enough. But do you have time to prepare?’

‘I mean to make good use of the day.’

‘I am grateful for all you have done, Archer.’

‘After you are safely home, I would ask you to keep my family in your prayers.’

‘At the very least.’ The bishop looked down at his hands, folded in his lap. ‘It was unwise to come, I see that now. I should have entrusted the matter to my representatives. But what is done is done.’

‘And you have the outcome you so desired. Which might not be the case had you not been present to speak with Dame Marian.’

‘Perhaps,’ said Wykeham. ‘It is kind of you to say so.’

‘Trent worries about whether someone will see to the task of receiving the stones when the barge arrives.’

‘Assure him I have seen to it. He had mentioned John Gisburne. I sent word that I counted on him to carry that out.’ His tone was dismissive. Now that Dame Marian had agreed to return to Wherwell, did he not feel the need to follow through on the good deed?

‘Have you spoken to Gisburne’s factor?’

Wykeham waved the thought away. ‘Trent said he had spoken with him.’

‘Did you arrange for him to send word to you when the stones arrive?’

‘They arrived yesterday and were sent downriver on a smaller barge to Clementhorpe. His messenger said all went well.’

‘He will be glad to hear it. If I might ask, Your Grace, have you given any thought to assisting him in his return home? When he is sufficiently healed. The pack with his money was stolen.’

‘You think me responsible for him? Or has he asked?’

‘He is not yet thinking so far ahead. But it will fall to someone to see that he returns home to his family.’

‘Very well. I will make arrangements.’


Sir Ralph began the meeting asking after Gwen. ‘I regret that your work for me endangered your family, and that it keeps you from them at such a time.’

‘No child ever had so many healing women surrounding her,’ said Owen. ‘My daughter is up and assisting my wife in the apothecary this morning.’

‘That is happy news. You will be well compensated, but I know that will not make up for her suffering. Or your son’s.’

Though Owen had explained his connection to the dead man and his partner, he had not mentioned the more personal reason Reynard might have had for attacking his family. He simply thanked the sheriff.

‘You will be interested to hear that I dined with John Gisburne, Thomas Holmes, and the Graa brothers yesterday,’ said Sir Ralph. ‘They mentioned items disappearing at the staithes, asked if I might urge the mayor to investigate, as it hurts those within and without the city. I thought about the items we hold from the Gunnell house. Said nothing to them, but I hope to have news for them soon.’

‘I do as well. Stealing directly from the ships?’

‘They said the staithes, so perhaps as the goods are unloaded.’

Gunnell’s shop was close enough to the staithes. ‘Let’s hope I have the opportunity to question him.’

‘Indeed. Anything else?’

‘What do you know of the brothers who found the body?’

‘The brothers?’ Sir Ralph paused. ‘They live with their parents, are hard workers. Their father, Will Malton, a large, strong man in his day, until his knees gave way, hobbles about now, depends on his sons. Wife is a quiet woman. Ann, I believe.’

‘I am curious whether they know why Bruin’s corpse was stripped.’

Sir Ralph looked surprised. ‘I had not thought to wonder why.’ He paused, nodded. ‘Now you mention it, the dead man was about their father’s size. I will have one of my men ask them about it.’

‘Thank you.’ Owen had not expected that.

‘I am keen to have you speak with Dame Alys. She complains about her treatment, particularly by you.’

‘I regret that I addressed her harshly.’

‘Understandable, but unhelpful. I trust you will find a way to coax her into cooperating. She did express gratitude for Brother Michaelo’s visit in the evening.’ A grin. ‘That was a clever ruse. I do hope it works.’

‘Brother Michaelo and I were followed home last night. Whether or not Reynard discovers the truth, it will at least distract him.’


Bard led Alisoun and Ned straight to the palace kitchen, whining and scratching at the door. When Alisoun pushed it wide, Bard raced inside, straight to a table near a window. Ned threw open the shutters. Oil and wax drippings on the table, fresh, not dusty.

‘Look.’ Ned crouched down and plucked several apple cores from the old rushes covering the floor, holding them out to her. ‘Not been here long.’

She noticed bits of feathers fallen into the rushes and scooped up a handful. ‘Someone has been fletching.’

Bard barked from a spot in the corner of the kitchen where the rushes had been mounded. He pawed it, then dragged out a long cloth. Alisoun retrieved it, scratching his ear in thanks.

‘Stiff with dried blood,’ she said. ‘Looks like a bandage. Perhaps Reynard’s injury from the first attack didn’t heal.’

‘If that’s who’s been here,’ said Ned.

‘The fletching suggests bowmen.’ She held the bandage up to her nose. ‘The wound has gone foul. Whoever it is, they’re likely feverish.’

Ned crouched down where Bard still sniffled in the rushes. ‘A lot of blood. Could he bleed for more than a week?’

‘It depends on where he was injured, how deep the wound, and how well it was tended, though even a stitched wound can reopen if the patient continues to move about.’

‘Jasper did say he’d stabbed Reynard in the gut with his arrow before the man tumbled off the tavern roof.’

‘That would do it. We need to tell the captain.’ She looked round for Bard. Called to him. When he did not appear she went still, listening, then headed out of the kitchen and up some steps.

‘What is it?’ Ned asked, close behind her.

‘Bard. I heard a growl.’ She put a finger to her lips and continued into a long passageway with rooms to the left and right. Bard’s growls echoed up ahead. The way grew light and suddenly opened up into a great hall. The dog stood at a door on the far side that was slightly ajar. Seeing her, he ran back, circling her. ‘Gone, are they?’ Bard barked and wagged his tail. ‘Good boy. Well done.’ She crouched down, letting him sniff the blood-stained rag. Barking, he led her back to the door.

‘We missed whoever it was,’ said Ned, muttering a curse.

‘No matter.’ Alisoun gave Bard another good sniff of the piece of bedding. ‘Where else was he?’ The dog backtracked, taking them into a side corridor and down toward the chapel. That door was locked. But Bard was already returning to scratch at another door. Not locked. It opened onto steps leading down to an undercroft.

‘The stonemasons will have a lantern,’ said Ned, hurrying off.

‘Come, Bard.’ She led him out to the hall where she sat on a bench to wait.


Dame Alys stood at an embroidery frame near the one window, threaded needle in hand. Owen had not noticed much about the chamber the previous evening. Now he saw that it was well appointed, with fresh rushes on the floor, warmth radiating from a brazier, a small bed for Dame Alys and a pallet at the foot for her maidservant, a table, several stools and a bench, hooks for clothing, and the embroidery stand. Someone must have been sent to fetch it from the house. ‘Again you make me wait, Captain.’

‘I am a busy man.’ Owen took a seat near the door.

With a sniff she proceeded to take a stitch.

‘I had hoped to include your son Laurence in this conversation.’

She glanced up, betraying herself with a worried frown, fear in her pale eyes. ‘You cannot find him? Or–?’

Owen realized she did not know where her son was and was frightened for him. ‘No, we’ve not found him. Perhaps if you were to tell me the truth about his absence. The circumstances in which he departed. That would be to your advantage should he be in danger.’

‘I told you. He was called away on business.’

‘Where?’

‘Why am I here?’

‘As Bailiff Hempe explained, we brought you here to protect you. We do not believe Pete’s death was an accident. Why don’t you explain why you invited him to stay in your home?’

‘He was grieving his master.’

A knock on the door. Owen bowed to the unhelpful widow and withdrew. It was Alfred, breathing hard. Remembering he had been sent out to check with Frick, Owen joined him in the corridor, closing the door behind him. ‘What happened?’

‘Frick and I were talking when who comes out of the Green Man but Laurence Gunnell. I followed him back into the city to John Gisburne’s factor’s office, that small shop in front of his manse on Micklegate. We have him down in the yard, waiting for your order.’

Gunnell had gone to the very man Wykeham had contracted to receive the stones. ‘At last some good news. You managed to bring him all the way here alone?’

‘The factor had one of his men assist me, and both accompanied me here. He said Gisburne wants no trouble with the sheriff. He’s waiting in the yard to speak with you.’

‘Gisburne’s man of business?’

‘Said he preferred that to having you seen coming to him. The struggle with Gunnell was bad enough for business.’

‘Gunnell resisted?’

‘Not as much as I’d expected, considering his bulk. Looks unwell, truth be told. But he did try to break away.’ Alfred rubbed his shoulder.

‘I’ll come down to talk to the factor. Name?’

‘Gordon.’

Owen tried the door next to Dame Alys’s and found it unlocked, the room unoccupied. ‘Get the keeper. Put Laurence Gunnell in this room beside his mother’s.’ Returning to Dame Alys, he said, ‘You’ve no more need to worry. Your son is here at the castle.’

‘God be– Why? Will he, too, be imprisoned?’

‘You are the sheriff’s guests, not prisoners,’ said Owen. ‘I will return after speaking with John Gisburne’s factor.’

‘What has he to do with this?’

‘I will find out.’ Owen bowed to her and departed.


Ned held high the lantern as he led the way down the steps. Alisoun ordered Bard to stay beside her as they descended. He might run free once she judged it safe.

‘Empty but for those barrels,’ said Ned.

Stacked high. Even from the steps she could smell the wine. Still she kept Bard at her side while Ned disappeared behind the stack of barrels.

‘Someone sampled the wine. Aha! Another bandage.’

Alisoun joined him, now allowing Bard to explore. He sniffed the bandage, barked.

Alisoun remembered the hat in her scrip, drew it out. ‘Bard.’

The floppy ears caressed the hat as Bard sniffed noisily.

‘Track.’

He returned to the bandage.

‘Reynard appears to be the one injured,’ said Alisoun. ‘Track, Bard.’

Nose to ground, he circled the empty barrel, once, twice, the circles growing wider, then moved to the steps.

‘Wait,’ Ned called. He’d rolled the barrel to one side and ran his hand over the stain, rubbed his fingers with his thumb, sniffed, then held out his hand to her. ‘This isn’t plain wine. Or blood. Oily.’

Alisoun smelled it. ‘A salve for infection?’ She crouched down, using a knife to dig up some of the wine-stained earth, examined it as she rose. ‘Something added to the wine. I can’t tell what it is, but I would guess to cleanse the blood. Or for pain.’

‘A salve and something for pain. Fighting men might carry such things,’ said Ned.

‘Or someone is helping them.’

‘Any way to know who by the ingredients?’

‘That would take too much time. But it’s something to tell the captain.’ Alisoun called to Bard, let him smell the hat again, and followed him up the steps and out the hall door. The rain came down again. He spun in a circle, defeated. ‘Rain washes it away, Bard. You’ve done well.’ She thanked Ned. ‘Tell the captain that it seems likely the bedding, bandages, and hat all carry the scent of the same man. And he might have consulted an apothecary. I’m off to sleep now.’

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