A Murdered Peace

3 A Celebration

The storm had come on suddenly just before sunset. Outside the guesthouse hall snow swirled in a dizzying dance. The wind was picking up. Water pooled beneath the fur-lined cloak Kate had hung on a peg beside the open door, and she stood near the fire circle drying the hem of her skirt. Would Sir Elric brave the storm for this supper? She had no doubt that his men would come, they were eager to celebrate their fellow’s return to duty, and they need just step round the corner to the guesthouse. But their captain would be coming from Sheriff Hutton Castle, which meant riding through the Forest of Galtres in such a wind, and after sunset. An imprudent journey in such weather, and Sir Elric was a man whose every move, every word was measured. The celebration of Kevin’s recovery, however welcome, was hardly enough to bring his captain out on such a night. Still, if Elric had set out early, he might have reached the city before the storm. Kate hoped so, for Kevin’s sake. And for hers.

That she was concerned for Sir Elric’s welfare and looked forward to his presence spoke to the degree to which their partnership was evolving into mutual respect, perhaps even friendship. During Kevin’s sojourn in Kate’s home his accounts of his life in the Earl of Westmoreland’s household had provided much insight into both the earl’s and his captain’s character. She had learned that the earl, a Neville, cousin to her late husband, was as much an opportunist as she had guessed, but that the knight was a man of conscience and strong loyalties. She liked that in a man. Whether or not she agreed with his policies, she could at least eventually know Elric, predict how he might react to a given circumstance. But she was wary – Kevin worshipped the ground on which Sir Elric walked, which surely colored his impressions.

Still, she could not deny that Elric had kept his end of the bargain she had made with him, keeping a protective eye on her mother and the sisters in her Martha House, and ensuring that her brother-in-law Lionel kept his distance. It had been some time since Lionel Neville attempted to interfere in Kate’s concerns. In return, Kate had fulfilled her promise to keep Ralph Neville, Earl of Westmoreland, informed of the temper in York regarding Richard’s abdication and the ascension to the throne of Henry of Lancaster, and had returned certain incriminating letters – though not before having a friar copy them, including their seals, in case she needed to defend herself against the powerful earl, now beloved of the new king.

It helped matters that Sir Elric was the very embodiment of knighthood in his physique, his skill at arms, and his courtly manner, as well as being one of the most handsome men she had ever set eyes on. Too bad his arrogant self-regard spoiled it.

But not always … When they laughed together she saw a vulnerable, quite likable side to him.

Is that why Berend had left without a word? She’d had good reason not to tell him of her agreement with Sir Elric at first. Helping Kate chase down an assassin the previous summer had brought to the surface memories of darker days, a past for which Berend had done much penance and from which he had hoped he might redeem his soul. When Kate had sought his advice about how such assassins operated she had unwittingly plunged Berend into a darkness, seemingly overwhelmed by his memories of hunting down the enemies of the powerful. By the time Kate realized that it might be a long while before he walked clear of his shadows, she had not known how to tell him about her bargain with Elric. So it was that Berend asked how she could be laughing with the man she swore she could never trust, never befriend.

A forceful knock startled Kate from her thoughts. As her manservant Seth moved past her to admit the guests he whispered that the new servant was spending the evening beneath Griselde and Clement’s bed, just in case one of the men chanced to step out to the kitchen. Carl had still not appeared.

“Pray God he does not arrive in the midst of this celebration,” Kate whispered.

“If he does, I will loudly berate him for coming too late to help with the evening’s event,” said Seth.

“Good man.”

He grinned and opened the door.

“What a night!” Sir Elric exclaimed as he shook his head and stomped the snow off his boots before stepping up to the threshold. He filled the doorway, face ruddy with cold, eyes bright in the lamplight. His fur-lined cloak was thrown back over one shoulder to allow access to his sword, a leather-gloved hand resting on the carved hilt, his hair, shoulders, and boots dusted with snow.

Armed? Well, of course he was, riding through the Forest of Galtres, and in such an unsettled time.

“It was good of you to come in such a storm,” she said. “I would have understood if you chose not to make the journey.”

“How could I miss such a celebration?” He stepped aside, gesturing to the five men crowding in behind him and lining up just within the doorway – Kevin, Douglas, Stephen, Wulf, and Elric’s squire Harry.

Kate welcomed them and motioned for Seth to assist them with their boots.

Douglas waved him away with a laugh. “Many thanks, but we’re accustomed to seeing to ourselves.”

Elric, however, settled on a bench just inside the door and wagged a booted foot. “Harry.” The young man bobbed his head to Kate, then dropped to his knees to unlace his captain’s high leather boots. The leg released from the high boots was clad in dark green wool leggings. A fine, strong leg. Kate was glad Elric was too busy to notice her watching him.

Griselde bustled in with a tray laden with hot dishes, which she placed on a brazier set up near the fire to keep the food warm, as she would soon be leaving to see to the supper of Kate’s wards. With Berend away and the children now so near, she enjoyed fussing over them with special meals. Indeed, earlier in the day she had chosen treats for the children at the market, an attempt to soften the blow of Kevin’s departure. She nodded to everyone and headed back to the kitchen for more items.

“Dame Griselde could use your help,” Kate said to Seth.

He nodded and hurried off to the kitchen.

Leaving his men struggling with their own high boots, Elric crossed the chamber and placed his near the fire circle to dry, then peeked at the food. Griselde had prepared for them a variety of dishes – sliced venison in a spicy sauce and eel in cream, two pies stuffed with cheese, nuts, and onions, a salty bread, roasted nuts, and figs.

“You think of everything,” said Elric.

“I run a guesthouse.” She smiled. “Had I known the weather would turn I would have suggested another date.”

“I’ve ridden through much worse. As have you, I imagine, growing up on the northern border.”

“I have, but only when it could not be avoided. Father did not like us risking the horses.” She noticed that Elric’s men now stood near the doorway in their stockinged feet. “Come, put your boots by the fire and then take a seat. If two of you might put the pies and bread on the table, then Seth will serve the hot dishes.”

Elric surprised her by choosing the chair that would put his back to the door. A gesture of trust? As the food was set on the table he rubbed his hands together. “A feast for the eyes. Berend’s work?”

“Not tonight, not here.” Kate brought several flagons of wine to the table as the men settled. “This is Griselde’s domain, and she is quite a good cook.”

“I’ve not seen Berend since my return,” said Elric. He had ridden with the earl in the army led by Henry of Lancaster in summer, then accompanied his lord to Westminster for the deliberations about the fate of the deposed king and the crowning. He had not returned to Sheriff Hutton until after Christmas. “Is your cook away?”

“On a brief mission for me.” Kate prayed that she was safe in trusting Kevin not to tell his captain that Berend’s departure was unplanned, that she did not know where he was. “Wine?”

“Of course. We must toast Kevin’s recovery.”

As her guest helped himself to a slice of the pie and several pieces of venison, Kate took a few sips of wine to calm herself. She had managed her explanations smoothly, she thought. And the delight on Elric’s face as he tasted the pie bode well. She filled her own plate and took a bite of the venison; Berend’s tutelage had vastly improved Griselde’s skill, particularly in blending spices. And now Kevin and his fellows fell to. For a while the party spoke mostly about the food, the men declaring it better even than the hearty fare at the York Tavern.

“Why is such a splendid cook wasting her talents managing a guesthouse for lovers?” asked Elric. “Griselde and Clement might like spending their elder years away from the bustle of the city.”

“My regular guests often request suppers much like this. I presume Sheriff Hutton Castle still needs a cook?”

“We do indeed. Since our former cook’s departure we have depended on one of the men who is a tolerable cook in the field, when we are desperate, but he can ruin even the finest venison. And as for something such as this pie – he would not know how to begin.”

“A pity,” said Kate. “And you’ve found no one?”

“The castle is remote and the regular occupants soldiers and servants; only occasionally is the cook called upon to prepare a feast for more discerning palates.” Elric shrugged. “For a while the wife of one of the earl’s tenants took pity on us and assisted with dinner a few days a week. With the purpose of teaching our cook his trade. Things improved for a while, but he did not see the point of all the effort and sank back into his slovenly ways. She refused to return.” A pause as he cut another piece of the pie and spooned up more of the creamed eel. “Berend would be a good fit for us. Not many women about, so a man is more appropriate. Griselde could surely cook for your household as well as this one.” He glanced up from his food to see her reaction.

She laughed. “I agreed to provide you with information valuable to your earl, not share my household staff.”

“I can but try. You said he was away on an errand?”

“Yes. And he is missed. Phillip is a picky eater and Griselde’s cooking does not tempt him as Berend’s does. Though he is free to eat with us only on Sundays, Phillip had so looked forward to it.”

Elric nodded. “Growing lads need fuel. Phillip is Hugh Grantham’s apprentice now, the master mason at the minster, is he not? Is it official?”

“He is, and yes, it is official, to his joy.”

“A fine lad. How long will Berend be away?”

Kevin cleared his throat loudly, nodding as Kate and Sir Elric looked his way. “You might talk of cooks another time. Is this not my night? Are we not here to drink to my health and welcome me back into the company of my comrades?”

“Your comrades have made some progress in drinking to your health already,” Elric noted. But he laughed and raised his cup. “To Kevin.”

Silently blessing Kevin for distracting his captain, Kate rose to pour all more wine. After several rounds of toasts, including to Brother Martin’s healing hands and Kate, the men broke out in bawdy songs. Douglas’s barrel chest produced a deep baritone, Kevin carried the tune with Harry’s help, Stephen went high in harmony. Wulf, drunker than his fellows, kept time drumming on his thighs.

As Kate cleared the empty platters and moved the roasted nuts and figs to the center of the table she felt buoyed by the men’s wild spirits, familiar from her childhood, with all her brothers and her father’s retainers at the long table in the hall, singing, playing fiddles, pipes, drums. She would often twirl and twirl, dancing until she was dizzy and too hot to go on. Her brother Geoff often joined her, and once they were slick with sweat they would dash out into the cold night, running, running, the hounds chasing them.

You do not often remember the good times, Geoff said in her mind.

Is there danger? she silently asked him.

I sense none except for the hidden lady. You are in the company of those who would keep you safe.

Then I conjured you with the memory of joy. She smiled to herself.

“He will eat them all before we’ve a chance to taste them!” Stephen cried as he dragged the platter of figs and roasted nuts out of Kevin’s reach.

Kate laughed. Kevin had eaten quite a few. They were clearly more to his taste than the wine. She had noticed that although he lifted his cup with every toast, his sips were modest. Good. She counted on him to keep a clear head and be discreet.

Elric leaned toward her as she resumed her seat. “I cannot recall when I last saw my men so merry. I will not soon forget your warm hospitality. I hope it has not caused problems.”

“Not at all.” She touched his hand. “Kevin risked everything to protect Dina that night and we are grateful.”

Elric closed his other hand over hers, sending a flush of warmth through her body. There was no denying the attraction, though she would be damned if she was about to let down her guard. Berend and Simon had taught her to tread warily with men.

“How does one ever repay such a selfless act?” she whispered.

“You have already done so with your care. You not only gave Kevin shelter, but purpose, a reason to heal. I am most grateful. He is one of my best men.” Elric did not smile as he spoke, but in his gaze was a warmth Kate had rarely seen. “Is it true that he promised Marie and Petra he would return to your home for one more night?”

She laughed. “It is true. Marie begged him, saying she and Petra had a surprise for him, and he agreed.” Kate had as well. He had joined her in the kitchen after Petra’s tantrum, having heard of it from Marie, and was concerned that it was because of his departure. She had admitted it was the catalyst, but not the entire cause. Still, when he mentioned that Marie demanded he stay one more night, Kate had urged him to do so. “I don’t dare to guess what Marie has planned,” she said to Elric. “I pray it involves a song they meant to rehearse today, and not a plot to force him to stay indefinitely.”

“You have a gift for making people feel at home.” Elric lifted her hand with his, and kissed it as he held her gaze.

Confused by her feelings, Kate was relieved when Elric glanced away, startled by Wulf’s lurching attempt to rise, almost bringing the table down with him. His fellows steadied the furniture as Wulf weaved toward the door muttering something about the privy.

“You’ve forgotten your boots,” Kevin called out, rising to fetch them.

He’d not quite reached Wulf when the man flung wide the door and staggered back, wind and snow buffeting him and setting the flames dancing in the tapers. “Boots. I forgot my boots.”

“Close the door you mutton-headed wastrel,” Douglas roared.

Kevin nudged his drunk companion out of the way and shut the door. “Sit on the bench, you sot.” When Wulf was safely grounded, Kevin handed him his boots.

Elric apologized to Kate. “I think it is time we departed, while my men can still manage snowy streets.” He shifted his long legs and rose. “I almost forgot. In your message inviting me to this celebration you mentioned that you had information?”

“I do. Perhaps you might see the others away, then return for a quiet talk?”

He nodded as he turned to see to his men.

Douglas had risen and collared Stephen, who had been reaching for some figs, pulling him up out of his chair. “May God bless you and keep you, Mistress Clifford,” said Douglas. “A splendid meal – more than we deserve.” He growled at Wulf, who teetered near the door.

Stephen bowed gracefully. “My deepest gratitude for the feast and your gracious presence, my lady.”

Elric hid his laughter with a cough as Kevin came back round to thank her.

“Have a care with Marie,” she warned.

Kevin laughed. “I promise not to pledge my troth.” Leaning close, he whispered, “Your secrets are safe with me, always.”

“My dear friend,” she smiled her gratitude.

Kate found herself avoiding Elric’s eyes as she saw the men out, flustered by their exchange. As soon as the door closed behind the men, Seth came out from the kitchen. He paused at the sideboard with a laugh.

“They ate most of it,” said Kate. “Feel free to eat what’s left, though it won’t fill you.”

“Griselde had the foresight to set some aside for me and our guest. She’ll be pleased. She enjoys cooking for hearty eaters.”

“Sir Elric and his squire will be back,” said Kate. “Let our guest know that she cannot yet come out.”

Seth nodded. “Brandywine, nuts, figs. Will that suffice?”

“More than enough.”

Elric followed his men as they slipped and slid through the drifting snow while supporting their drunk companion. Wulf would lose his balance and topple into the soft snow, and with much jeering and laughter they would pull him up, steady him, and trudge on, only to repeat it several steps later. At least they had no witnesses. Between Kate’s guesthouse and his men’s lodging on Stonegate Elric encountered no one else foolish enough to be out in the storm. At last they arrived at their destination, Harry doing the honors of knocking on the door to rouse the landlord. Stephen and Douglas gave up on Wulf and simply dragged him inside, their landlord shaking his head and muttering about soldiers who could not hold their drink. Sir Elric gave him a few pence for his trouble and a promise that he would keep them far too busy to enjoy another such evening while Wulf sang Dame Katherine’s praises.

Back out on the street, Elric, Kevin, and Harry drew their cloaks tight and trudged back down toward Petergate.

“Do you feel well feted, Kevin?” Elric asked.

Kevin laughed. “Oh, it was my night? Somehow it seemed Wulf’s.”

Harry slapped him on the back.

“Dame Katherine is a wonder, is she not?” said Kevin.

“She is,” Elric said, with heart. He had never encountered such a woman. Katherine Clifford knew just how to be with the men, putting them at ease, yet not too familiar. They respected and admired her.

As did he, though upon his first glimpse of her several years earlier on the arm of her late husband, Simon Neville, he had imagined that she would prove as tedious as most merchant’s wives, more interested in impressing the other guests than in engaging in conversation. It had been Elric’s first Christmas at Sheriff Hutton Castle. He’d been named captain of the earl’s guard at the castle at Michaelmas. Simon and Katherine had arrived the day before the Christmas feast, she swathed in a fur-lined cloak and accompanied by a brace of war dogs – ridiculous for the wife of a city merchant – he dressed likewise and seemingly concerned that there was snow on the ground and their fine boots would be ruined. When Katherine was relieved of her cloak by a servant, the extravagant silk and velvet gown in a red veering dangerously toward royal purple, her dark hair swept up in a silver crispinette powdered with pearls and emeralds, he found it difficult to look away, and she noticed, studying him with frank interest. A pampered pet tugging at her leash, eager to stray, he had thought. When she watched with unusual intensity his swordplay demonstration, and later surprised him with knowledgeable questions about his technique, he thought it flirtation, or perhaps a ploy to inflame an indifferent spouse. Though how any man could be indifferent to her he could not fathom. Not that she was the most beautiful woman at the feast – her features were too bold for that – but there was a vitality about her that stirred his imagination.

Out on the practice field the following morning he’d looked up with amazement as she approached in the company of her hounds and asked one of the men if there was a target she might use to practice, preferably a straw man. She needed some fresh air and movement after such a rich feast. Practice what? he had wondered, as he and most of the other men crowded round. From her skirts she drew a small battle axe, gave a signal to the hounds to stand behind her at a slight distance, and proceeded to work up a heat throwing her axe, retrieving it, throwing again, until one of the squires began to retrieve it for her. Her technique was flawless, clearly the result of much practice. Time after time she hit all the best points on the straw man to disarm him, disable him, or kill him. The play finished when she beheaded him. Elric’s amazement burgeoned.

And then she had asked if she might return in a while for some archery practice.

On that day, watching her prowess, her intense focus, Elric realized she could be either a formidable foe or an equally formidable ally. He had worked hard the past year to turn her from the former to the latter, but he still felt as if he were dancing on the edge of her axe blade. After every encounter he found it necessary to review and revise his strategy. Her hard work toward paying off Simon Neville’s debts seemed a part of the discipline that had enabled her skill with weapons. That she was also so compassionate as to take in her late husband’s bastard children and love them as her own – he still wondered at that, but sensed that it came from the same place as her fierce protection of her wayward mother and her young niece. But her choice of servants – an assassin and a thief, and he had yet to discover Matt’s dark secret, and her invention of the guesthouse, a place of assignation for lovers, as a conduit for the money to buy masses for her late husband’s soul – those aspects suggested a dark cunning that unsettled him. Katherine Clifford remained a most challenging enigma. And tonight he must once again try to win her cooperation.

At the corner, Kevin bid him a good evening and trudged off down Low Petergate to Katherine’s house where her wards awaited him. Elric put his arm round his squire’s shoulders.

“Back into the warm glow of the guesthouse, eh, Harry?”

“Yes! God’s blood but it’s cold out here.”

Elric had much to tell Katherine, including some things she might not like to hear about someone for whom she cared far more than Elric liked. Best get it out and be done with it. He prayed that she would appreciate rather than resent the information.

“Not a night to be out on the roads,” Kate said as she opened the door for the returning knight and his man, and saw the depth of the snow, the continued strength of the storm. “You are welcome to make use of one of the bedchambers tonight, wait for daylight before riding through Galtres.” She had chosen an evening for the celebration when there would be no patrons in the upper chambers, so both were available.

Elric gave her a long look. “That is kind of you.”

She felt herself blushing. That was all she needed. She hoped in the candlelight it just seemed her natural high color. “Harry as well, of course.” She nodded to Elric’s squire who was heading out to the kitchen to spend the time with Seth. God be thanked that Griselde had changed the plan and hidden Lady Margery in her own bedchamber.

“I do thank you, but there is no need,” said Elric. “I’ve made arrangements at the York Tavern.”

“I doubt Mistress Merchet’s chambers are so fine as ours. But as you wish.” Kate offered him brandywine.

Elric held out his goblet. “And a good thing it is that I had already planned to stay in the city. On such a night the best horse and rider might lose their way in the forest.”

“You have business in York?” Kate asked, interested.

“I will tell you about it. First, what have you for me?”

Sitting back with her goblet, she said, “It concerns Scarborough. They say there are pirates in the coves near the city, Spanish and French pirates, ready to harry our coast.”

Elric’s frowning concern told her this was news to him. “Spies keen to test the crown’s ability to protect the realm?”

“That was my thought,” said Kate. “A king deposed, a new king threatened with rebellion.”

Elric cleared his throat. “Richard was not deposed, he abdicated.” Said as if by rote, insincere.

“The French do not see it that way,” she said. “Nor do you, I think.” He looked down at his cup. “Nor do the rebels,” she added, thinking of the uprising that had been planned for the feast of the Epiphany, the plot to murder King Henry and his sons. “The point is, the French believe Henry might be so distracted by civil strife he would be unable to move quickly should they attack, with his soldiers already spread out in the countryside and towns searching for the rebel leaders. Is it true what they say? The earls of Salisbury, Kent, and Huntington all beheaded?”

Elric nodded and crossed himself, as did Kate.

“You and your fellow merchants are concerned about this because of the French and Spanish pirates threatening trade,” said Elric.

“You see the problem. We are discussing how we might protect our ships.”

“Hire your own pirates?” He reached for some nuts and figs.

“It is one possibility. Or we put more armed men on our ships to ensure our defense, though that means less room for cargo. We need someone like Ralph Neville to explain the situation to the king. We would not want His Grace to see our armed men as a threat to him. It is said the Earl of Westmoreland has Henry’s ear.”

“He does. I will send him news of this as well as your concerns.” Elric washed a fig and some nuts down with the last of his brandywine, setting it down with a sigh of contentment. “You set a fine table.”

“As I said, you are welcome to stay. Griselde loves men with good appetites.”

What game are you playing, Kate? Geoff hissed in her head. You do not want him here.

“Old Bess is keen for my coin as well as news of the Lancastrian court,” said Elric. “I could use her long knowledge of the city, the families, their alliances, so I count it wise to please her.”

Old Bess. She’s my reason for inviting Elric to lodge here. Having lived on the other side of the city until a few months ago, Kate’s only personal knowledge of Bess Merchet was a comment she made to Griselde, that a woman who flaunted wolfhounds in the city was up to no good. Other than that, Kate knew her only by reputation. Though Old Bess’s grandson Colin was the nominal owner of the York Tavern just round the corner and down Stonegate in St. Helen’s Square, the elderly widow was said to run the tavern from her parlor off the kitchen, her keen instincts keeping troublemakers away, and she made a point of knowing everyone’s business. She likely knew to the day how long Berend had been gone, and that it was long enough for him to have set off to join in the rebellion. That was what worried Kate. If the taverner had heard whispers about Berend’s absence, she might share them with Elric. It was said she had a fondness for soldiers with a bit of the devil in them, and Kate imagined Elric was just her type, especially his connection to nobility. Kate cursed herself for not having tried to befriend the woman. Perhaps she still could.

“What are you hoping to learn from Old Bess?” she asked as she topped up both of their cups.

“I find it best to listen without expectations.” He leaned closer. “I might not need her confidence if you can help me. Which brings me to why I will bide with her a while. On the orders of my lord the earl I am searching the city for Margery, Lady Kirkby.”

God help me. “Lady Kirkby is here?” Kate prayed her voice was steady.

Elric did not seem to notice anything amiss. “She is believed to have arrived in York in the past day or two.”

“Believed. You have not seen her?”

“No. I am to find her and hold her at Sheriff Hutton until King Henry’s men come to take her into custody.”

“Into custody?” Thinking of the woman hiding beneath the bed in the next room, Kate felt both dread and anger. If her wards should suffer because of Margery’s naïve husband …

“What are you thinking?” asked Elric.

She had been silent too long. He watched her so closely she had to remember to breathe. “I fear for my friend,” she said. “Of what does she stand accused?”

“So you have not seen her?”

“A year past.”

“The rebels you spoke of,” said Elric, “those involved in what some are calling the Epiphany Rising–”

“You cannot believe Margery had a part in that?”

“Not her, her husband. The king believes Sir Thomas was part of the plan.”

Reminding herself that she must seem to hear this for the first time, she whispered, “Was?” Kate felt as if someone was slowly tightening their fist round her heart as she listened to Elric’s account, how much he knew, Thomas’s leech, the rising suspicion about his loyalty to Richard, seemingly confirmed by the report of his earlier visit to Pontefract.

“From Windsor he’d gone to Cirencester and was seen in the company of the rebel earls,” said Elric. “I must tell you – he was executed by the mob. Lady Margery managed to escape. Apparently with her husband’s head.”

“His head? Margery witnessed his beheading? God help her.” Kate crossed herself. She did not need to pretend distress. She lifted her cup and drank.

Elric was not unsympathetic. “I am sorry to be the one bearing such news”

The brandywine helped steady her. “Why would Margery be there?”

“Her sister claims that Lady Margery was visiting her, and that Sir Thomas had arrived unexpectedly a few days before the earls of Kent and Salisbury. But the king believes the earls had meant to join Thomas in the town and ride off together.”

“God grant gentle Sir Thomas eternal rest,” she whispered. “I find this all– Elric, I cannot believe it of him. He sought peace, not bloodshed.”

Elric’s blue eyes were steady, neither expressing agreement nor disagreement. “So he claimed. It is not for me to judge him or his lady, merely to find her and hold her. As you have sheltered Lady Margery in the past, I wanted to warn you. Do not take her in.”

Too late for that. “Are the king’s men also in York?”

“Not yet. I hope to find Lady Margery before they arrive. It will be better for everyone. Especially for you, for you are known to have hosted her fund-raising dinners.”

“As a favor to my uncle, the dean of York Minster,” Kate clarified. “From the first I thought it a rash plot. Naïve.”

“I know. But the king and his sons were threatened …”

“What of Margery’s family?”

“All being questioned. Thomas’s head went missing right away, a boy seen racing away with it, Lady Margery in pursuit. Sir Thomas’s body was spirited away in the night. Her sister is suspect, though why she would risk her own family–” A shrug. “Someone close to Sir Thomas has at the very least interfered with the king’s justice – the bodies and heads were to be displayed as a warning.”

“Thomas beheaded,” Kate whispered, crossing herself, then reaching for her cup. The king begrudged her the body, including the head, for burial? Monstrous. “One body out of so many – what can it possibly matter?” she asked. “Her family is being held?”

“No, just watched. For now. But if she is not found …”

“What precisely do they want of her?”

“Besides answering for the theft of her husband’s body and head, they believe she might know the extent of the rebellion. More names. Additional plots.”

So the longer Margery hid, the more danger for her family. Kate did not like this. She did not like this at all. How she wished Carl had appeared after this conversation with Elric. Would she have turned Margery away?

“But if Sir Thomas was innocent of this?” she asked.

Elric held up his hands, palms out, quieting Kate’s protest. “I merely wish you to know the whole sad tale so that you might make wise decisions should any member of her family appear on your doorstep.” He reached for her hand. “I mean to keep you safe.”

Did he? Or did he want to feel whether her hand might reveal something, the cold sweat of guilt perhaps? Fortunately, Kate’s hand was warm. She let him take it. “Will they execute her as well?”

“Should I find her first, I promise you I will do my best to protect her at Sheriff Hutton Castle until someone with authority – and some modicum of calm – convinces me that she is safe in their hands. Meanwhile, I beg you to have a care. Trust no one as they jostle to gain King Henry’s favor. The slightest criticism might be reported.”

Such as her sense that they had traded one vicious despot for another. “I understand,” she said. God help her family.

Elric poured them both more brandywine. “There is more.”

There always was. Kate took a deep breath. “Tell me.”

“I know that Berend has been gone a while.” Kate flinched. Elric glanced down at her hand in his, then looked her in the eye. “I can understand why you would hope no one noticed.”

“Bess Merchet noticed?”

“If she has, she has said nothing to me. I heard it elsewhere. Not from my own men, mind you. It seems you have earned their loyalty.”

Bless Kevin. “So Berend is away. What of that?”

“You do know that he was once in the service of Baron Montagu?”

She withdrew her hand, though she was certain he had already sensed her surprise, her fear.

“I see you did not know. Katherine, I am sorry. I want only–”

“To protect me. Yes, you said. You mention his service because Montagu’s son, the Earl of Salisbury, was one of the rebels?”

Elric nodded. “In his will, Salisbury’s father left Berend a modest property. A house and land to the east of York. The property was deeded to Berend ten years ago, on Montagu’s death.”

“His son and heir, Salisbury, is he – was he not King Richard’s champion?” Kate asked.

Elric nodded.

Kate crossed herself. No wonder he was curious about Berend’s absence.

Salisbury had been in Ireland with Richard when word came that Henry of Lancaster had landed in Yorkshire. King Richard had sent Salisbury back to England to secure Chester for him. When Richard was captured, Salisbury stayed by his side in Chester Castle. She remembered Kevin sitting in the kitchen telling them about it. He had just heard it from someone in the city.

And Berend, who had been kneading bread as he listened, said, An honorable man, Salisbury, to stay with his lord. Was that where Berend was? Was that the meaning of Petra’s dream, that Berend had felt honor bound to obey the summons of his lord’s son? Why?

“Richard’s champion, and part of the uprising, butchered in Cirencester. I am sorry to be the one to tell you,” said Elric.

“Yes.” Her voice stuck in her throat.

Berend had referred to himself as an assassin. Kate had presumed he was a mercenary, with no allegiances. But his lord the baron had gifted him with property. If Berend had wealth of his own, what was he playing at, working as a cook in her home?

“How long has Berend been gone?” Elric asked.

Long enough.

“You have remembered something?” he asked. “Something that might help me?”

Had she frowned? She must have a care. He observed her so closely. She shook her head. “You have me questioning how well I know anyone I count a friend,” she forced the words past the lump in her throat. She had trusted Berend implicitly.

“Forgive me, but there is more. Berend was seen in Pontefract, met with Salisbury in Oxford, and was seen in Cirencester on the day the mob murdered the earls and Sir Thomas.”

Now Kate’s hands were cold. She felt the chill in her extremities, flowing toward her heart. “Berend?” she whispered. “But the plot – it is said they meant to kill the king’s sons. Berend would never condone that. Never.”

“If it is of any comfort, I cannot believe it of him either. But his movements– You can see why he, too, is being sought.”

“By Westmoreland?”

“No. Sir Ralph mentioned only Lady Margery.”

“So if Berend is caught, you will not protect him, as you have said you will protect Margery?”

“I will not be under orders to protect him. But he will come to no harm. I’ll do all that I can to keep him safe at Sheriff Hutton, as I will with Lady Kirkby. You have my word.” Elric wrapped his hands round hers and leaned close, his breath sweet with the brandywine. “Forgive me for upsetting you. It was such a pleasant evening.”

Damn him for saying that. She fought tears. “It was,” she whispered. She must remember that just as Simon and Berend had played her, so might Elric.

“Allow me to walk you home,” he said.

She nodded. It was time to return to the children so that Griselde could come home, see to her husband and Margery. Margery, damn her.

Elric kissed her hand and released it, pushing his chair from the table. “I will fetch Harry.”

“Tell Seth to come along so that he might escort Griselde back here.”

“There is no need for Seth to go out. We’ll escort her. The York Tavern is not so far from here.”

No, not so far. More’s the pity. Margery would be imprisoned in this house. For it would be watched, as would all Kate’s properties. All whom she loved were in danger. All.