The King's Bishop (20 page)

‘Mistress Lucie,’ Jasper called, standing in the kitchen doorway, ‘Master Fortescue is here for his eye drops. Shall I pour them?’

Lucie straightened, shaded her eyes. The clerk of the Mercers’ Guild was a regular customer, the formula for his drops unchanging. Jasper had prepared it twice under her watchful eye. ‘I think you are ready, do you?’ Jasper stretched tall with pride and nodded. ‘Good.’ When he was out of sight, Lucie crossed herself and said a little prayer. She suffered the anxiety of a chick’s first flight, not distrust in Jasper’s abilities.

Owen said little to Ned until they were back at the sod hut, warmed with food and ale. Then he suggested they might let the dog run a while. Ned followed Owen towards the other building.

As soon as they were out of sight of the house, Owen turned and punched Ned in the jaw, sending
him sprawling. ‘What game are you playing, you addle-pate?’

Ned rubbed his jaw, checked his teeth, picked himself up, brushed himself off, resumed walking towards the barking dog.

Owen went after him, grabbed him by the elbow. Ned tried to shake him loose, but Owen held on.

Ned turned, shoulders slumped. ‘What now?’

‘How long did you think to leave them in the beck? Until there was nought to bury?’

Ned rubbed his forehead with the heel of his left hand. ‘I am confused.’

‘You’re a poor actor, you are. What are you hiding from, Ned?’

‘I need to be alone. Mourn Mary.’

‘The dead would not have interfered with your mourning.’

Ned shrugged.

Owen pushed Ned’s shoulder. Ned clenched his fists. ‘Leave me!’

‘I am your friend. Or I was. And your captain. But you act like a stranger. What has Asa done to you?’

‘She is not to blame. She has been kind to me.’

‘No doubt, loving you as she does.’

At last, a flicker of uncertainty in Ned’s eyes. ‘You know nothing of Asa.’ The voice, too, was less assured.

‘Lancaster must be a fool to use you as a spy. You walk about with your eyes closed. The woman is holding out her heart to you. Have you tripped over it?’

‘She helped me. I had to hide.’

At last a crumb of truth. ‘You said you lost your way. You did not expect me to believe that, did you? You killed Don Ambrose and ran, didn’t you?’

Ned’s eyes blazed. ‘You know I would not commit such a cowardly act!’

Trapped. ‘You already know he’s dead.’

‘I—’

Owen grabbed Ned’s shoulder. ‘You have played the fool with me long enough, Ned. Now I want the truth …’

‘You will not believe me.’

‘How can I know until you tell me what happened? Start telling the truth or I’ll beat you till my knuckles are a bloody pulp.’

Ned closed his eyes and clenched his fists. Sweat glistened on his upper lip. ‘I returned to the grange house the night after I’d fled. Found him shoved under some brush. Tied hand and foot. His chest was wet with blood.’

‘Don Ambrose?’

‘Aye.’

‘It was yet dark?’

‘Aye.’

‘Yet you knew it was he?’

Ned glared up at Owen. ‘For pity’s sake. Put your doubt to work on something of use. You’ve ridden at night. You know how the eye adjusts. And I’d just fought with the man. I knew his form. His scent.’

‘And you were certain he was dead?’

‘I felt no heartbeat.’

‘So you examined him.’

‘Aye. Got his blood on me doing it. And then I thought what a fool I’d been. Abbot Richard would accuse me as soon as he saw the blood. So I hid him.’

‘You hid him?’

‘I thought his attackers would return to do likewise. I would tell the Abbot to put a secret watch on the place. Just Brother Augustine or his servant.’

‘You suspected someone in your own company?’

‘It was the place to start, eh? But I found the grange house and the barn empty. I’d missed the company. So at dawn I buried him.’

‘You buried Don Ambrose? Yet you did not bury Henry and Gervase?’

‘I did not bury the friar out of a sense of Christian duty. I thought to leave him as his comrade had left Mary … floating …’ A pause, a deep breath. ‘But I reckoned the Abbot would leave a search party behind. If they did not know of Ambrose’s death, they would be searching for two people. They would not put all their effort into pursuing me. And if they
did
know of his death …’ He grunted.

‘You would worry them.’

A thin smile. Suddenly Ned grabbed Owen’s sleeve, his eyes pleaded. ‘I must find her murderers before the trail is gone.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘I must return to Windsor.’

‘And so you shall.’

Ned shook his head. ‘Without the company. No one must expect me. I meant to find Don Paulus. Find out who killed Mary.’

‘You bloody fool! Aren’t you in trouble enough?’

‘Trouble?’ Ned made a wry face. ‘More than trouble. I am a dead man, Owen. No matter what I do. At least let me avenge her.’

Owen shook his head. ‘No.’

‘If it were Lucie, you would feel the same.’

Owen could not deny that, but he hoped his tactics would be better than Ned’s, more likely to succeed. ‘Why are you so certain Mary’s death was no accident?’

‘She was frightened. At Windsor. She wanted me to
stay. Who would protect her, she asked. I thought she was safe. Maid to Alice Perrers – who could be safer?’

‘Who would have cause to harm Mary?’

‘I don’t know. She was so good, so kind. She could have no enemies.’ Ned covered his eyes with his hand, turned away from Owen. ‘Perhaps they meant to attack me through her. Perhaps she was their pawn.’

‘Whose pawn, Ned? Who are your enemies?’

‘I know not,’ Ned whispered. ‘Lancaster has many enemies.’

‘What do you mean to do?’

Ned turned. Tears shone in his eyes, but his expression was excited. Hopeful. ‘I must find out from whom Bardolph and Crofter take their orders. They have done everything so that the blame fell on me.’

‘You think they murdered Henry and Gervase?’

‘And Don Ambrose.’

‘Why?’

Ned shrugged. ‘I am Lancaster’s man. That is enough.’

‘It is nothing, Ned.’ But his friend’s suspicion about Bardolph and Crofter was not so easy to dismiss. Owen had guessed them to be trouble the night he had drunk with the company in the York Tavern. Crofter had admired Owen for killing the jongleur and his leman. And Matthew had said that Don Ambrose had at first seemed to fear them, not Ned. ‘Bardolph and Crofter fought under Wyndesore.’

Ned nodded. ‘And he under the Duke of Clarence, Lancaster’s brother. Wyndesore has defamed Clarence to the King.’

Owen shook his head. ‘I do not see the connection.’

Ned shrugged.

‘And you’ve no proof of any sort so far.’

‘I knew you would try to stop me. And now you know who I’m after.’

‘Why didn’t you bury Henry and Gervase?’

‘Asa and Malcolm have been watching them. To see whether Bardolph and Crofter return for the bodies.’

‘Not for you?’

Ned shook his head. ‘I don’t think they knew how close I was. That stream, near that track on which folk travel between the moorland abbeys – word would have reached Abbot Richard soon enough. And who would he blame?’

‘They did not see you up here?’

A filthy hand tugged at the knotted locks. ‘Would you recognise me had you known me only a short time?’

Owen looked his friend up and down. ‘Nay. And not from a distance even now, knowing you as I do.’

‘Now that you know, you must help me bring them to justice. Find proof of their infamy.’

Owen shook his head. ‘Things have gone too far. I must take you back to York under guard is what I must do.’

Ned looked disgusted. ‘I’ll run.’

‘You did not run last night.’

‘In truth, I am relieved to be forced to action.’

‘You will not run. You are not yet so mad as to betray me.’

‘Friendship can be a heavy burden.’

‘I am the one has more cause to complain. But I swear, Ned, I shall find out all I can about Mary.’

Ned grimaced. ‘I may yet change your mind.’

Owen doubted it. If Ned were more himself, perhaps. But the lies and silences …

*

Word of their approach had arrived at the hamlet before Owen and company. The men heard that Owen shared his horse with the Widow Digby, another man rode beside him, a dog following. Who had joined the company? The men waited outside Asa’s house, eager to see.

Matthew recognised him first. ‘Captain Townley!’

Ralph and Geoff moved forward to take the reins. ‘God be with you, Captain Townley,’ Ralph said.

Ned nodded to him, but said nothing.

‘Any sign of the others, Captain?’ Geoff asked.

‘Two we buried, two we have not seen,’ Owen said.

A murmur passed among the men.

‘Whom did you bury, sir?’ Geoff asked.

‘Henry and Gervase.’

The men dropped their heads and crossed themselves.

It was Ralph who asked, ‘How did they die?’

‘Murdered,’ Owen said.

Ralph turned to Ned. ‘Did you see who did it?’

‘I did not see it happen.’

Ralph studied Ned’s face for a moment. ‘Ah,’ he said at last, nodded and walked away.

Watching Ralph, Owen expected trouble, but he and Geoff went off about their business. Still uneasy, Owen showed Ned into Asa’s house. Matthew, Curan and Edgar followed them.

‘So what’s to be done now, Captain Archer?’ Matthew asked.

‘We shall escort Captain Townley back to York, where he will await the King’s pleasure.’

Curan strode up to Ned. ‘You snivelling coward. You killed them, and the friar, didn’t you? What did they know about you, eh?’

Ned’s fist connected with Curan’s jaw before Owen
could get between them. But Ned did not leave it at that. He threw himself on Curan, knocked him to the ground, and managed to bloody his nose before Owen grabbed Ned and sent him sprawling.

‘Get Curan to Magda,’ Owen commanded Edgar and Matthew.

Ned slowly rose. Owen punched him back down. ‘I am losing my patience with you. Any more foolish behaviour and you ride to York bound hand and foot.’

‘Bardolph and Crofter have done a good job. Everyone believes I’m guilty.’

Owen shook his head. ‘If you’re right about them, your behaviour suits their purpose, you fool.’ He went out to see how Curan fared. It would be a long ride back to York.

O
wen, Ned and Matthew spent the night in Magda’s cottage; both Ned and Matthew were nursing sore noses and split lips from encounters with the other men that had failed to restore Ned’s good name. Magda had ordered the separation so that she might have peace.

It was a crowded cottage. Magda shared it with a young woman, Tola, who was great with child. It was her imminent lying-in that prevented Magda from returning to York in Owen’s company.

Owen had seen little of the young woman until this evening. He talked to her while she prepared a meal for the five of them. Her husband was busy with the lambing and glad that Magda had come to assist Tola in the birth of their first child.

‘Why did you send all the way to York for a midwife?’ Owen asked. ‘Have you none up here?’

Tola, her back to Owen as she sprinkled dried herbs into the broth, said simply, ‘We thought it best.’ Thus had she answered all Owen’s attempts to converse with her. A woman of few words. One might suspect
her of being simple but for the eyes. The few times Owen had found her watching him it was because he had felt her gaze. As intense as Magda’s.

As Owen lay in the dark much later, he noted something else: many of Tola’s features were very much like Asa’s. Asa and Magda. Of course. Lucie would have seen it sooner, recognised the relationship, no doubt.

He rose. Magda had gone out when everyone else had settled for the night. Owen found her at the edge of the clearing, sitting on a stone, her head thrown back to study the night sky.

‘Thou shalt be back among thy family soon, Bird-eye. Art thou glad?’

‘You know that I am.’

‘What keeps thee wakeful? Dagger-thrower’s ill fortune?’

‘Magda, is Ned telling me the truth about how he came to be here?’

Magda said nothing. Owen glanced over at her. She had resumed her star-gazing.

‘You have nothing to say?’

‘Nay. ‘Tis not for Magda to tell thee whether or no thy friend can be trusted. Thou canst judge for thyself.’

Owen raised his eye to the stars. ‘Matthew believes that the sky over the River Thames is different from this sky.’