by Candace Robb
Ah. Now they made progress. ‘And would this partner’s name be Stefan?’
Edmund looked surprised. ‘How did you know?’
‘Did you and your partner bring Joanna to Scarborough?’
Edmund fidgeted uneasily. ‘What has she told you?’
‘Very little.’
Edmund frowned. ‘She is a strange one. I cannot see why Stefan is so taken with her.’
‘Was it Stefan who gave her the blue mantle, told her it was the Blessed Virgin’s?’
Edmund smiled a little. ‘I did. We thought we would have a bit of fun. That was when Stefan was still playing with her. You could get her to believe anything.’
‘Did you take part in the false funeral?’
Edmund rubbed his face, threw his head back.
Owen recognised the signs of exhaustion. Good. ‘How did she get you to help her?’
‘Longford got us to help.’ Edmund shook his head. ‘I have done strange things in my time, but when he came up with the idea to playact her death and burial …’ He shook his head.
‘So it was Longford’s idea?’
Edmund thrust his chin out in a defensive pose. ‘She asked for it, make no mistake. She wanted the trail to end in Beverley. Didn’t want her kin or the Church to come after her. I don’t know whether it was the relic she’d stolen or what, but she wanted to vanish.’ Edmund fidgeted, rounding his back, then straightening and stretching his arms out in front of him, pulling on his hands.
‘And Joanna liked the idea of the burial?’ Owen asked.
‘By that time she had no choice. Longford had a use for her, so she would do as he said or else.’
So she had not been pleased with the scheme. Probably frightened. ‘Tell me about the burial.’
Edmund shrugged. ‘Little to tell. Stefan and I slipped her out of the shroud while Jaro got the gravedigger drunk. The gravedigger passed out, we filled in the grave, rode off with Joanna hidden in a cart.’
‘Was she drugged?’
Edmund nodded. ‘Jaro concocted something. I think he gave her too much. It took a while to wake her.’
‘So Jaro was still alive when you left?’
Edmund frowned, looked round at the solemn, intent faces. ‘Why? He isn’t now?’
‘Jaro is buried in the grave you filled in on Joanna’s shroud,’ Ned said. ‘Neck broken.’
Edmund fell silent over this news. He scratched his knee. ‘I knew nothing of this.’
And why would he say otherwise? ‘Who would want to kill him?’ Owen asked.
Edmund rubbed his temples wearily. ‘I hardly knew him. He was a good cook, seemed loyal to Longford. They were not gentlemen, Captain Archer. I am sure they made enemies wherever they went.’
From what Owen had heard from Louth and Ravenser, that seemed true. Enough of that. ‘How did you first meet Joanna Calverley?’
Edmund straightened up. ‘She came to Longford with a relic to sell. We arrived the next day.’
‘This was another trip ordered by Captain Sebastian?’
‘Yes. To summon Longford.’
‘Summoning Longford was a regular task.’
Edmund nodded. ‘The way grew familiar.’
‘And he introduced you to Joanna?’
‘Not immediately. He had given her something to keep her asleep while he thought how best to use her.’ Edmund looked round at the men. ‘You see why I say they made enemies.’
‘How did he involve you?’ Louth asked.
‘He had come up with a plan. We’d use her to get to her brother. Longford was obsessed with Hugh. He thought since he had once made a fool out of Hugh, well, Hugh being so crazy, he must be just biding his time, plotting his revenge. So Longford wanted us to get Hugh out in the open where Captain Sebastian could find him.’
‘And you agreed?’ Owen asked.
‘Stefan and I, we thought we might have some fun with it, see what Hugh would do. And we did not want to leave any young woman with Longford.’
‘What did you mean to do with Joanna after Hugh was sufficiently teased with her?’
Edmund shrugged. ‘Abandon her, I suppose. She is very fair. She would not be without a protector for long. As it turned out, Stefan wanted to keep her by him.’
Owen winced at the cold-bloodedness of it. ‘So what happened?’
‘She was trouble from the first. She cast a spell over Stefan. He has been a fool since we took her from Beverley.’
‘So where is Stefan now?’
‘That is what I want to find out. Joanna is back in York and Stefan’s gone. I want to know what happened.’
‘What do you think happened?’
Edmund shrugged. ‘The fool’s gone off to fight a dragon for her, that’s what I think. He cannot do enough for her. Fine clothes. Feather beds.’
Owen frowned. ‘Fight a dragon?’
‘He saw himself as her defender. Got funny about the Hugh Calverley part of the plan. Told her not to go near him, that Hugh would be blamed for her escape from the convent and the sham burial, that either Sebastian or the Percies would punish him severely. Stefan knew she would not wish to hurt Hugh. He told her they would find some other way to reunite her with her brother.’
‘You had nothing to say about that? Seems to me he was going against your plan.’
‘He kept assuring me he had a new, better one.’
‘And you believed him?’
Edmund hesitated, shook his head.
Owen settled back, stretched his legs. ‘So Joanna did not know Stefan before she met him at Longford’s?’
‘No.’
‘Are you sure of that? Strange that you would arrive the day after she did. A rendezvous?’
Edmund shook his head. ‘Stefan and I have been partners a long time, Captain.’
‘You are certain they had not planned the meeting at Longford’s?’
‘I am certain they did not. He’d never seen her before. I told you she has cast a spell on him. I have never known him to bed another woman more than once.’
‘Why?’
‘That is how he is faithful to his wife.’
‘Wife? So Stefan is a citizen of Scarborough, not a member of Sebastian’s Free Company?’ This could be the reason Joanna chose to return to the convent.
Edmund shook his head. ‘Stefan is of Sebastian’s company. His wife and family are in Norway. He sends them money.’
An interesting circumstance. ‘He prefers to be away from them?’
‘You judge him without knowing him. Stefan had trouble there. He is waiting for better times. Perhaps a pardon.’
Owen had known men in that position. Their loyalties could be difficult to judge. ‘Do you think Joanna found out he is married?’
Edmund shrugged. ‘I was not a part of their private conversations.’
Owen pushed that thought aside for a moment. ‘So you travelled to Beverley in May, seeking Longford for the captain?’
Edmund nodded. ‘We did not find him. But we did hear of Joanna’s return. Jack thought she might lead us to Longford.’
‘So you spoke with her?’
‘Nay. By the time I got there, she was locked up in the nunnery.’
‘And so you followed the company to York.’
Edmund shrugged.
‘What did you mean to do with Joanna when you found her?’
‘Ask her about Longford. And Stefan.’
‘And then Jack would strangle her?’ Louth asked softly.
Edmund ducked his head. ‘No. I would not let that happen again.’
‘Why did you not approach Sir Richard de Ravenser or Sir Nicholas and ask to speak with Joanna?’ Owen asked.
Edmund glanced at Louth. ‘With the death of the maid I did not think I would be courteously received.’
‘You hate the fact that Joanna came between you and your partner,’ Owen suggested.
Edmund groaned. ‘You are intent on thinking the worst. I can tell that you and he’ – he gestured towards
Ned – ‘have fought together. How would you feel if he disappeared suddenly? And his leman? Then she showed up somewhere else and was shut away and guarded so you could not even ask her what had happened? You couldn’t find your partner, you couldn’t speak with the only person who might tell you where he was?’
A cry from deep in the heart of the man. He was not at all the outlaw Owen had thought. He would provide no simple answers. ‘I would feel much as you seem to.’
They did not speak for a while. Owen stood, looked up at the sky visible through the window, stretched his back. He felt a sadness about this man and his friend. Stefan, exiled from his country, leaving behind a wife and children. And Edmund. What of Edmund? Where were his true loyalties?
It was Edmund who broke the silence. ‘I care about Stefan. I want to see him at peace with himself. He has not been so. He told me he felt his soul was in peril, that his love for Joanna was a grievous sin, but he could not help himself.’
‘A grievous sin because she was a nun?’
‘All of it. Her vows, his marriage vows, his children, our using her against her brother – and I suppose he was thinking also about our not using her against Hugh.’
Thorny. But such complications were part of love, at least in Owen’s experience. He had wanted Lucie from the moment he had caught sight of her, when she was still married, and Owen was apprenticed to her husband. ‘You must have a theory about what happened between Stefan and Joanna.’
Edmund had fallen to scratching his knee. He stared down at the blood seeping through his leggings. He turned his head this way and that, finally looking up at Owen, his eyes sad. ‘They disappeared about the time that Hugh Calverley was murdered. At first I thought Stefan took Joanna away so that she would not hear. But when I discovered that she was travelling alone …’ he threw up his hands.
‘Joanna was fond of her brother?’
Edmund rolled his eyes. ‘She spoke of him as if he were the perfect soldier, the perfect brother. God had blessed him with all virtues befitting a man.’
‘An opinion you did not share.’
‘Hugh Calverley was a beast, plain and simple.’
‘But Joanna did not feel that way.’
‘Not at all.’
‘How about Stefan?’
‘I think he was trying to see Hugh from Joanna’s eyes.’
‘Then you would not think it likely that they murdered Hugh Calverley, ran away, then decided to separate for a while, or for ever, for their souls?’
Edmund shook his head. ‘No. I am certain that is not what happened.’
‘Who do you think murdered Hugh?’
‘The man had many enemies, Captain Archer.’
‘And what of Stefan’s disappearance? What has Captain Sebastian done about it?’
‘Precious little. Gave me Jack and the others. But Jack’s an assassin, not a spy. I wonder about the captain’s purpose in sending him with me.’ Edmund sighed. ‘I believe the captain thinks Stefan murdered Hugh.’ He nodded at Owen’s raised eyebrow. ‘Another reason I am out of favour. I say he thinks I helped, and then Stefan ran away with the sister. And Jack was watching me. Hoped I’d lead him to Stefan and Longford. But to what purpose? That is what I wonder.’ Edmund pressed his palms to his forehead. ‘Ever since that woman came into our lives, nothing has gone right. I want to return to York with you. I want to speak with Joanna and find Stefan.’
Owen glanced at Louth and Ned. Ned shrugged. Louth shook his head. ‘How do we know we can trust him?’
Eighteen
Bartering
Owen climbed the stone steps round and round, higher and higher, to the battlements of Scarborough Castle. Sir William de Percy had invited him for a private talk up near the heavens, where eavesdropping would be difficult. Owen wondered if Percy had any notion how heights bothered a one-eyed man. Not that Owen had ever meant to decline; he sought to train himself out of his skittishness. Reason and experience should make up for depth perception – with practice. He had forced himself up onto Knaresborough’s battlements once a day and several times at night. But Owen had not walked Scarborough’s battlements yet; he expected that Knaresborough’s dizzying height would be nothing compared with this, high over the North Sea.
Owen reached the top of the tower warm with the effort, but breathing comfortably – until he faced into the wind. Sweet Jesu, the force was so strong he had to duck and gasp for air; surely a slighter body would be blown over in this gale. And it was yet summer. What must the watch on these battlements suffer in winter? A handrail would have been appreciated on the inside of the ledge on which he stood, but Owen refused to let anyone know how vulnerable he felt. He was grateful as he looked out and down that the drop-off from castle wall to bluff to sea was no more dizzying than Knaresborough’s prospect of the River Nidd.
Owen spied Sir William at a guard station on the next tower. He made his way towards Percy, forcing himself to saunter and look about, as if enjoying himself, and not clutch the wall beside him. Fortunately, Percy had chosen a spot sheltered slightly from the wind. ‘Sir William.’
The stocky man spun round, fixed his beady eyes on Owen. ‘How did you fare with Edmund?’
An abrupt beginning. ‘He cannot help us with Captain Sebastian.’
Percy nodded, looking perversely pleased. ‘No matter. Perhaps I can help you there. The men of the Free Companies are a greedy lot. My men will pass rumours through the town that the King has a tempting proposition for Captain Sebastian; I wager the captain will send word. You watch – with a sizeable bribe, you will succeed where Hugh failed.’
Owen looked out at the North Sea, grey-blue in the summer sun. ‘Surely that is not why we are up here, Sir William?’
Percy leaned against the wall to Owen’s left, trying to see his companion’s expression. ‘What does your prisoner say about Hugh Calverley’s death?’
Owen only sensed Percy on his blind side; he could not see him, nor would he satisfy the man’s curiosity by turning towards him. He did not want Percy at ease. ‘Edmund claims no knowledge.’
‘We were not responsible.’ The voice was defensive.
Now Owen turned towards Percy, feigning surprise. ‘You? But of course not.’
Percy snarled. ‘Do not play the innocent with me, Captain Archer. You made it plain yesterday that you thought the Percies had been negligent in seeking out Hugh’s murderer and notifying his family.’
‘It puzzled me is all.’ Owen smiled, turned back towards the sea. ‘So who are you so hesitant to implicate?’
‘I do not know who killed him.’
‘But you suspect, Sir William. You sit up here, steward of Scarborough Castle, and you watch the goings-on below. You have eyes all about. You admit as much by offering to lure Captain Sebastian to a meeting. Who do you think killed Hugh?’
Percy came round to Owen’s good side, though it placed him in more wind. ‘You must understand Scarborough. ’Tis home to smugglers, pirates and spies. Scots, Flemings, Zealanders, Normans …’ He blinked against the wind, but stood his ground.
Owen looked south towards the harbour, north towards Whitby. A coastline rippling with coves and, bluffs pocked with caves. ‘I can see it would suit them.’
‘To keep the King’s peace among such folk requires compromise.’
‘No doubt.’
Percy moved back into the shelter of the tower wall and settled with a grunt on a stone bench. ‘Two of the three powerful families who supply most of our bailiffs – the Accloms and the Carters – are bold thieves.’
Owen leaned against the wall facing Percy, arms folded. ‘Your point?’
‘Hugh was warned to turn a blind eye – but he did not always do so.’
‘You think he crossed either the Accloms or the Carters once too often?’
Percy looked down into the castle yard, where a group of boys screamed in mock battle. ‘Should I put all who live in this castle in jeopardy for the death of a man whom few mourn?’
&n
bsp; ‘But you do not know for certain these families were involved?’
Percy shook his head.
‘What do you intend to tell the Calverleys?’
‘Hugh died for King and country.’
‘Tell me, Sir William. If you disliked him so, why was he here in Scarborough?’
Percy looked surprised. ‘He was good is why. Rounded up spies, traitors, trouble-makers – and Sebastian’s recruits. Many of them are now in my service. A good soldier is often the last man to whom you would marry your daughter. You should know that.’
Owen and Ned took advantage of the long evening to see Hugh Calverley’s house. Deaf Harry showed them how he had managed to run messages between the castle and Hugh’s dwelling all those years without being caught by Sebastian’s men. He led them on such a fiendishly circuitous route that neither would have sworn they still looked out on the North Sea. The house was a squat, thatched cottage that would be taken for a peasant’s house by all except the wary, who would note the absence of children, animals, crops. Two rooms with packed mud floors; in one a fire circle and a sleeping loft, in the other a stable. The place had been stripped of all signs of Hugh Calverley.
‘His men slept here, too?’ Owen asked.
Harry, who tended to bend very close while reading lips, jerked back and nodded. ‘Aye. They slept on t’other side, with horses.’
‘And you slept below, Hugh above?’ Owen asked.
Harry straightened again and shook his head. ‘I slept above. The master had a curtained feather bed below.’
‘Fancy for such a hovel,’ Ned remarked.
Harry had not been watching Ned. ‘What?’ he shouted, turning to Ned.
Ned repeated his comment.
Harry nodded. ‘My master and his women liked their comfort, Sir.’
‘And you, Harry, did you find it comfortable?’ Ned asked.
Harry beamed. ‘Master Hugh promised the Percies would see to me if aught happened to him, and they have. That’s a good master.’
Owen saw the doubt on his friend’s face and wondered what he was up to.
‘They say your master beat you about the head.’ Ned mouthed the words dramatically, ‘And that is why you’re so deaf.’
Harry tugged an earlobe, shrugged. ‘Master Hugh had a temper, true enough. But he was patient wi’ me most times. I had threads and bread, sir, and a goodly fire. And now in my decline I work at the castle.’ His blackened teeth formed a grim smile. ‘I never looked for such riches.’
