Pat McIntosh - The Merchant's Mark

‘Billy Walker was right,’ said Alys. Kate, glancing down the room again, found that the squat man had moved. Billy’s sandy head turned sharply as he picked his own name out of the conversation, and the cloaked man opposite him looked up. Kate had a glimpse of a broad, flat, big-featured face with a tuft of beard on the lower lip; then the man’s eyes met hers, and he smiled. She looked away quickly, a sudden trickle of fear running down her spine.

‘Have ye seen enough, mistress?’ demanded Hog.

‘I have, indeed,’ said Alys. ‘Thank you, Maister Hog.’

She opened her purse again, and this time a coin changed hands. Hog, looking less surly, twirled his property away behind the tapped barrel, and returning went so far as to say, ‘And thank you, mistress. Ye’ll aye be welcome in Mattha Hog’s tavern, and I hope you’ll tell all your gossips what’s here.’

‘Oh, be sure of that, Maister Hog,’ said Alys with a sweet smile. Kate bit her lip appreciatively, and turned towards the door as Andy began the task of shepherding his two charges out of the tavern.

There was some disturbance behind them, movement in the press of people, and exclamations of annoyance, but intent on making her way out without setting her crutches down on any of the feet Kate did not look round. She was unprepared, therefore, for the man who pushed roughly past her, putting her off balance. Recovering herself, she was aware of Eppie’s indignant shouting, and of a shaggy head against the light in the doorway; then something struck her right crutch a heavy blow. It gave way under her, and she went sideways on to an acrid lap, and then as its owner, too, overbalanced they both went sprawling. There was more shouting, an exclamation from Alys, a furious bellow from Andy.

‘Are ye hurt, lassie?’ said a voice nearer her ear. ‘Only if my wife was to hear o this, I’ll get her rock about my ears when I get home the night.’

She pushed herself up, embarrassed, then moved her hand hastily and apologized.

‘Oh, never apologize for that,’ said the man, grinning, and heaved himself back up on to his stool. ‘Can ye rise?’

‘Are ye hurt?’ said someone else. ‘What did he do to ye? Was that an axe he had?’

‘I can’t get up my lone,’ she admitted furiously. ‘My leg — ’

‘An axe?’ said Andy, hauling ineffectively at Kate’s shoulders. ‘Did somebody say an axe? What did he do wi it? Was that Billy Walker I seen? Surely he never had an axe!’

‘Has he cut her leg off?’ said the treasure-seeker.

‘Fetch Babb,’ said Kate urgently, knocking Andy’s hands away, and scrambled round into a sitting position. ‘Andy, get Babb here to me.’

But Babb was already there, elbowing people aside, ranting angrily about Andy’s lack of care.

‘As for you, my leddy,’ she said furiously, getting a capable grip as Kate reached up to link her arms round her neck, ‘you’ve no the sense you was born wi, coming into a dirty place like this where folks has no more courtesy than knock down a lassie off her oxter-poles.’

She hoisted, with practised ease, and set her mistress upright.

‘It was Billy Walker,’ said Andy, dusting at Kate’s sleeve. Alys appeared anxiously at the doorway, with Wallace’s soft enquiring nose beside her. ‘Did he hurt you, my leddy?’

‘It couldny ha been one of my customers,’ claimed Hog in haste. ‘I never seen him afore he was in here this day.’

‘It was a great big man wi an axe,’ said Eppie, ‘for I seen it catch the light all blue. An axe on a long haft. What did he do wi it, lassie?’

‘He knocked my pole from under me,’ said Kate shakily, accepting one of her crutches from Andy.

‘She’s complaining o her leg,’ said the man she had fallen on, dusting himself down.

‘And why should she no,’ said Babb, still angry, ‘when it’s never worked since she was six years of age? And St Mungo himself refusing to do anything for her — ’

‘Babb!’ said Kate.

‘Oh, are ye that lassie?’ said Eppie. ‘We was all hoping the saint would listen to ye, with them letting ye in for the night. I was heart sorry to hear it never worked, hen.’

‘You’re kind,’ said Kate. Someone handed her the other crutch, and she set it to the floor. ‘Oh!’

‘What now?’ said Babb, and stared in astonishment with her.

The padded top of the crutch, which should lodge neatly under Kate’s arm, barely reached above her waist. Kate upended the thing to look at the other end, and several people exclaimed around her. Instead of the metal-shod tip which still graced its pair, the shaft ended in raw wood, half cut, half splintered.

‘Would ye look at that!’ said the man she had fallen on.

‘I tellt ye he had an axe,’ said Eppie triumphantly.

‘It could have been a dear sight worse, my leddy,’ said Ursel forthrightly, handing Kate a beaker of spiced ale.

They were in the kitchen at Morison’s Yard, a stone structure down the slope next to the timber-framed house. It was far less gloomy and better cared-for than the hall. Cooking-crocks and metal pans were ranged on a set of shelves, a small spice-chest stood on another set among crocks of dried fruit, the wooden bowls and platters the men ate off were stacked neatly in a rack near the fire. Babb had brought Kate in there, at Ursel’s urgent invitation, as being the most comfortable place in the house, and the old woman had immediately set a jug of ale to warm, with spices to lift the spirits, as she said.

‘So I thought too,’ said Alys. ‘When I saw Babb, here, carry you out of the tavern, I truly feared for you. It was a great relief to find you were not injured.’

‘I should never ha taken yez,’ said Andy from the doorway. He came into the kitchen, accepted ale from Ursel and sat down on a stool. ‘Your mule’s stabled, Lady Kate, alongside the old mare. Where are those bairns, Ursel?’

‘That lassie Jennet that Mistress Mason sent down,’ said Ursel, nodding at Alys, ‘she’s taken them away up to wash them and redd up a bit, to let me see to my kitchen. She’s a good worker, mistress.’

‘She is,’ agreed Alys, ‘and has five sisters, so she can deal with bairns.’

‘We’ll see if she can deal wi these bairns,’ said Andy sceptically. ‘And what about yersel, Lady Kate? I should never have let the pair of you into that place,’ he repeated. ‘I kent from the minute you asked me about the barrel, mistress, there would be trouble.’

‘But nobody was hurt,’ said Alys. ‘Kate has sent up to Rottenrow for her spare crutches, and the broken one can be replaced. And Our Lady be praised,’ she added to Kate, ‘that I do not have to tell Gil you were hurt about something I started.’

‘I should have gone myself,’ said Andy obstinately. ‘You could have tellt me what you wanted. And what were you about, anyway, mistress? What did we achieve wi that? Was there anything on your wee bit cloth?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Alys opened her purse and drew out the cloth, unfolding it to exhibit the blue-purple streaks on the white diaper. ‘See, there was certainly logwood dust in the joints of the barrel-head, and also lodged in the hoops.’

‘So that barrel was at the dyer’s yard,’ said Andy.

‘It was at a dyer’s yard,’ corrected Kate.

Alys nodded. ‘Yes, unfortunately, we can’t be sure it was the same one.’

‘It’s a coincidence, if it’s no the same barrel,’ said Andy.

‘And my father always says he does not believe in coincidence.’ Alys looked thoughtfully at the stained cloth. ‘But even if it’s the same barrel, we are very little forward.’

‘How?’ said Andy.

‘That barrel must have been at the dye-yard on Tuesday night,’ said Alys, ‘but it could have been put on the cart at any time before that.’