A Murdered Peace

6 Trespass

A low growl woke Kate. She was stiff and cold, but it was her own fault. She had chosen to remain dressed and ready, perched on a bench in her bedchamber between the door and the window that looked out over the landing and the back garden. Lille sat beside her. The hound had been hesitant to climb the steps, uneasy with this unaccustomed privilege. But it was no privilege – rather the hound was on guard, playing a crucial role in Kate’s plan.

It might have been more uncomfortable. Kate would have preferred to stand watch down in the snowy yard. But she did not want to be so obvious that she was waiting for the expected intruders. This way they could not be forewarned. A widow with children, she feared for her safety and took precautions. Effective precautions.

Pressing her back against the wall, Kate slid up until she could see out the open shutter. Lille rose to stand beside her, snout forward, sniffing the air, then pricked her ears and leaned her head out the window, looking in the direction of the steps. She gave another, much softer growl. With a touch on Lille’s head Kate signaled thank you and, motioning to the hound to stay, she stepped out onto the landing and went to the rail to look down into the yard and the entrance to the kitchen. Ghent, who was with Jennet in the kitchen, should have also sounded the alert. There. She could just make out the outline of the open kitchen door, the embers of the hearth fire giving a soft glow.

She need not worry about the girls. She’d sent Matt to Dame Eleanor giving her permission for Petra and Marie to stay the night at the Martha House after their lessons with Sister Brigida, a special treat. Her mother had been more than happy to have them, but, ever on the alert for trouble, Eleanor had made it clear to Matt that she would expect an explanation when she returned with them midday, after their lessons. Kate considered it a small price to pay for ensuring that the girls were not frightened in the night.

In the doorway behind Kate, Lille was restless. Down below, Ghent led Jennet out of the kitchen, stepping with caution toward the corner of the house.

It was time. Kate slipped the lead through Lille’s collar, then motioned for the hound to walk beside her. Slowly, silently they went to the stairway where Kate paused, listening. Lille, nearest the railing, gazed down, guiding Kate. In the soft light spilling from her neighbor’s shuttered window next door, Kate could see two figures moving with stealth, headed for the side entrance to her hall.

Careful. They will be armed, Geoff warned in her head.

Of course they are. But it’s good to have you with me, Geoff.

She and Lille crept down the steps. They were halfway down when the men reached the hall door. She was now close enough to smell the wine on their breath. The one who had spoken to her on the street glanced round as if sensing they were not alone, then shrugged and reached toward the latch. Sawyer was his name, according to one of Jennet’s young spies, having gotten close enough to listen to the two for a moment. The other was Parr.

Ghent and Jennet were several strides away from the intruders when Kate saw a glint in the hand of the one nearest her, Parr. Holding her breath, she drew the small axe from her skirt pocket, weighing it, anticipating the pleasure. But Jennet was quicker, coming up fast and yanking the man’s arm behind his back before either could respond.

“Bloody–” Parr cried out in pain as he dropped the knife.

The door opened, Matt standing back to avoid Sawyer’s wobble as the door pulled him forward. The man managed to grasp the doorframe and avoid falling on his face. The lantern behind Matt illuminated the scene.

“And why, might I ask, are you creeping up to my door past curfew?” Kate demanded from the steps as Jennet started moving Parr past Matt and into the room, Ghent and Lille crowding close to Sawyer. Kate bent down and retrieved the fallen knife. “I want an explanation. Go on. Follow Parr into the hall. Unless you want the night watchman to join us. And some of the neighbors?”

Sawyer glanced at the dogs and warily sidled past Matt.

“I think you can safely let go of his arm now,” Kate said to Jennet.

Matt closed the door as soon as Kate and the hounds had cleared it.

“Forgive us, we mistook this house for the one where we’re lodging,” said Sawyer, slurring his words unconvincingly. They had indeed been drinking, but not that much.

“Well, Sawyer, tell us where you are lodging and we will direct you.”

“He lies,” said Jennet, dangling a bloody piece of meat she had carried in a small bag. “They tossed this out behind the kitchen to divert the dogs. Poisoned meat.”

Lille growled.

“Poisoned meat?” Kate repeated in a quiet voice, working to control her anger. It would not do to kill the king’s men in her hall, but oh how she wished she might.

Parr seemed to realize their danger. “Not poisoned. Not so far as we know. The butcher said–”

“Shut up, you bloody fool,” Sawyer growled.

Parr bowed his head, but Kate caught his sideways glance at his partner, the subtle smirk. All an act.

“You have no understanding of a well-trained hound, I see,” said Kate, pretending to be amused at their bungling.

Pulling himself up to his full height as if thinking to threaten Kate, Sawyer said, “There’s nothing for it, then. We are here on King Henry’s business. Unaccustomed to the strong ale in the North.” Though they reeked of wine. He faked a fierce glower, but there was anger beneath it. “How do you know our names?” he demanded drunkenly.

“I asked.” She saw by their expressions that they had not shared their names with many. That was no act. Good. The dogs, her readiness, they were forewarned. “If you truly are here on the king’s business, he is not well served by you.” She called the hounds over to her, and motioned for them to stay at her side, but keep watch on the trespassers.

Neither man could tear his eyes away from them. Kate knew what they saw, wild beasts, untamable, ready to break their training and tear them apart. Never had her hounds disobeyed her. Never. But the men’s doubt was useful, rendering the dogs even more effective in protecting her. She took a deep breath. Jennet tucked the meat back in the bag.

“Explain yourselves,” Kate demanded.

“Call off your dogs,” Parr said with false bravado as he rubbed his shoulder.

“They are not attacking you, which is more than you deserve, creeping up to my home in the dark of the night with a blade drawn, hoping to poison them. I hardly consider it wise to call them off. And you have certainly done nothing to deserve my hospitality.”

Matt had busied himself arranging a bench for the two men and two chairs for himself and Jennet. He knew better than to think Kate would sit while the men were in the house.

Kate motioned to the bench placed behind Sawyer and Parr. “Sit.”

Sawyer shook his head.

“Perhaps you will permit my hounds to assist you.” Kate signaled Lille and Ghent to take a step toward the two men.

They took their seats on the bench without further argument. Jennet and Matt sat as well.

Kate nodded. “Now. What do two men who wear the Lancastrian livery want with me?”

“We wear the duke’s livery, but we are the king’s men,” Sawyer stated.

“Your mission?” she demanded.

“We are rounding up traitors to the king.”

“Are you accusing me of treason?” Kate asked. “Me, a hard working merchant’s widow bringing up three young wards? When have I had time to commit treason?”

“Not you,” Parr growled as he rubbed his shoulder. “A noblewoman and a man lately of your household. Berend, formerly Baron Montagu’s man.”

No mention of Carl. Because they knew his whereabouts?

“My cook?” Kate frowned. “But I no longer employ him. You say he was Baron Montagu’s man? Surely you are mistaken. He did not seem one to have been employed in the kitchens of a nobleman.”

“He was no cook then, but an armed retainer. And after that …” Parr glanced at his companion.

“You should be more cautious about whom you hire, Mistress Clifford,” said Sawyer. “The man left the baron to become a mercenary. An assassin.” He punctuated it with a gap-toothed smirk.

Lille growled.

“I don’t believe you,” Matt cried. “Have you seen the man? Missing an ear, some fingers, some toes. An assassin? Pah.”

Jennet snorted. “Now you’ve had your fun, why don’t you tell us the truth?”

“Insolent servants,” Sawyer muttered. He’d begun to sag on the bench.

Kate silently thanked her clever servants. Stalling, she noticed that Parr’s jacket was puckered as if he had tried to clean the dark stain from it. Was it blood? She looked at his face – dried blood beneath his nose and the beginning of a bruise on his cheek. A bandage peeked from his left sleeve. He, too, slumped slightly, as if wilting in the warmth of the hall. In fact, now she studied their bloodshot eyes, she believed both were more than slightly inebriated. Curious that they had risked their mission. Clearly Parr had been in a fight. With whom? Carl? Had he struggled, fought back? She wished she might speak his name, challenge them, but she could not without revealing that she had at least spoken to Lady Margery. The need for secrecy hampered her.

At least their inebriated states might make it easier to fool them into thinking they had achieved their mission. “My household needs its sleep, so I agree with my maidservant. Tell me what it is you want.”

Sawyer straightened as if remembering himself. “Is your former cook here?”

“No.”

“Lady Kirkby?”

“No. Is that it?”

“We have the right, as the king’s officers, to search your house for the miscreants,” he said, beginning to slur his words.

“And then we’ll be done with you? Good,” she said, not waiting for an answer. “Come. Quickly now.” She clapped her hands at them, making Lille and Ghent bark as if eager to proceed. “I want to get back to bed.”

Clearly the two had forgotten their fear of the dogs – until the deep-chested barks.

“The dogs–” Sawyer began.

“No bargaining,” said Kate, motioning the men to rise. “First, hand over all weapons to Jennet. I will have no incidents in my home. She will return them to you out on the street.”

“You already have my dagger,” Parr snapped.

“Not the one in your boot.” Jennet held out her hand, grinning at his surprise.

“Come now, both of you,” said Kate. “I’ll grow testy if you keep me up much longer.”

Once Jennet was satisfied that the men were unarmed, Kate told Matt to bring a lantern. She ordered Lille and Ghent to accompany Jennet behind the men, and Kate and Matt led the way out of the hall and up the steps, calling to the lagging men to follow them. Her room, the girls’ room, Phillip’s room.

“Where are the children?”

“Oh, do be serious. They are too young to commit treason, surely,” said Kate, shooing them back across the landing and down the steps, round the corner and back to the kitchen, where she invited them to peer down the barrels if they so pleased. Then, quickly, out into the garden and into the garden shed. “And our garderobe. Please, I pray you, peer in. You never know who might be squatting in there.”

And then they were out on the street.

“What about the shop front?” asked Sawyer.

“What about it?”

“It is never open.”

“It awaits two sempsters.” Jennet and Sister Dina – as soon as Kate found a replacement cook. “Shall I inform you when they are open for business? Purse makers – decorated alms purses. Are you in the market for some? When I have some to show you I’ll send you word at – where are your lodgings?”

Neither man responded. No matter, Jennet would have one of her helpers track them.

“Well, you might ask your host to recommend a good laundress for that stain on your jacket. If you let blood set it will destroy the brocade.” Kate bobbed her head at the pair. “Perhaps I owe you my thanks. I shall not find traitors on my doorstep now you’ve made a nuisance of yourselves. But if I find you on my property again, I’ll not restrain my hounds.” She waved them off, greeting the night watchman who was passing, warning him to keep an eye on the drunken knaves she’d found wandering in her garden.

Jennet slipped out into the shadows. So she meant to track them herself.

Back in the kitchen Kate slumped against the wall, catching her breath.

“Berend and Lady Margery. They know they are in the city.” She closed her eyes, whispering a prayer.

“They are no match for Berend,” said Matt, “or for us. I’m not worried.”

“Whether or not to worry depends upon who they really are,” said Kate, opening her eyes as Jennet returned.

“You do not look triumphant,” said Kate.

Matt gave a low whistle. “They managed to lose you?”

Jennet cursed. “It was clear from the start they aren’t as foolish as they pretended.”

“Nor are we,” said Kate. But she was so on edge that a noise at the door had her holding her breath, half expecting Berend to saunter into the kitchen. But it was only Lille and Ghent returning from a last check of the yard. “I had hoped they might at least lead you to Carl.”

“I believe he is dead,” Jennet said. “While we awaited the intruders one of my eyes and ears came to tell me of a body found in a ditch outside Micklegate Bar the morning after Carl disappeared. A bald man of no distinction. He’s been taken to a small chapel out past Ben Coffey’s blacksmith shop where the priest buries those found along the road. It might be anyone, but such a coincidence? I will go on the morrow.”

“No, I will go,” said Kate.

All three bowed their heads.

Kate sat up sharp, still on edge from the night watch despite a few hours of sleep. “What is it? What’s happened?”

Jennet sat on the edge of the bed. “Trouble. One of my lads says Merek’s been murdered.”

Berend’s summoner. “When? Where?”

“An alley near the market. Sounds as if it was about the time Parr and Sawyer were here, so if it was them they had a very busy night. The night watch were milling about, so my lad could not get too close. But he says there is a great deal of blood, and the men were saying the spice seller had been stabbed, and his throat slit.”

Kate looked toward the window while she thought. Parr was certainly bloodied, but could the pair be so cool as to murder a man, try to wash out the blood, and then come to annoy her? Dangerous enemies, if so. If not them, who? Lionel? Merek had been prying into his affairs. Horner? He had clearly been uneasy about something when he had met with Merek in the market. Berend? No, please no, not him. She saw soft gray light through the chinks in the shutters. Not yet dawn. “Merek seemed a man with no shortage of enemies.” She stepped onto the cold floor. “I want to see him. I doubt they will move him before sunrise.”

Down in the kitchen, she found Kevin sharing an ale with Matt. The latter was yawning and blinking to wake up, but Elric’s man looked as if he had been up a while.

“You’ve heard about Merek?” Kevin asked.

“Only what a passerby was able to overhear,” she said. “I think you might want to find Jon Horner.” She told him what she’d witnessed in the market the previous day.

“Jon Horner?” Kevin looked doubtful. “I would not have seen him as a man prone to violence. He seems a timid sort.”

She saw pain in his expression. Something he did not want to tell her. “What is it?”

“A witness, a baker who lives near where they found the body, says that he saw Merek and Berend earlier in the evening. They were arguing, and Berend seemed the aggressor. So folk will say it likely follows that he is the murderer.”

“No. No, I don’t believe it.”

“Do you think I do? But the sheriffs’ constables are searching for him.”

She was thinking about the market and the angry customer. Perhaps he’d overheard something or had seen what the two had exchanged. She wondered whether Merek told Horner to blame anything that happened on Berend.

“… wanted you to know before he comes,” Kevin was saying.

She shook her head at him. “I’m sorry, before who comes?”

“Sir Elric. He will be coming to talk to you. If you would–”

“I will say I heard it from Jennet. He will never know you were here.”

“Have you seen him? Berend?” Though Kate said nothing and tried not to change her expression, Kevin shook his head. “Have a care, Dame Katherine. Everyone is frightened, fearing what punishment God will rain down on a realm that discards the holy anointed king. I would not have you risk your life even to protect a friend.”

She would have preferred not to, but there was no turning back now. “Did you see Merek’s body?” she asked.

“Not closely. Sir Elric did.”

“He was about in the night?”

“Dame Bess woke him, said there was trouble, wanted him to find out what it was.”

“How did she know?”

Kevin shook his head. “She is as secretive as Jennet about her sources. Maybe Horner?”

“I want to see the body.”

“He’s already been moved. To prevent the murderer from coming back to snatch the body and hide it.” Kevin moved toward the door. “I must go. I will be missed.” He turned as Kate touched his arm.

“Thank you, Kevin. I will not forget this.”

He lifted Kate’s hand and kissed it. “For you, anything.” His eyes held hers for a moment, warming her.

“God help us,” Jennet muttered when he was gone. “I’ll not believe it of Berend. Never.”

“Nor I,” Matt declared.

“Then we need to prove him innocent,” said Kate.

“What of Lionel?” Matt said. “Merek’s been asking questions of him. Would Lionel have cause to attack Merek?”

“I thought of that, and I would love to point the finger at him,” said Kate, “but who would believe it of that coward? He likes to attack, but whines and runs when his victim turns on him.”

“What if Sir Elric was told to take care of someone asking too many questions about Lionel, a Neville?” asked Jennet. “What if he murdered Merek? Would he step forward to save Berend?”

Would he? Could she trust him to do the honorable thing?

Matt looked relieved, as if the idea were the answer. “If Sir Elric had been obeying an order from the Earl of Westmoreland, the sheriffs and the council would likely express their irritation but do nothing.”

Kate rubbed her eyes. “Pour me some ale.”