Кэндис Робб - The Lady Chapel

With all their personal possessions gone, Owen had little hope of finding Martin and Ambrose at the Abbey, but he closed up Ambrose’s house and went on to St. Mary’s anyway.

He knew he was right about Martin not being there as soon as he saw the pleased surprise on Brother Wulfstan’s face.

“Good morning, Owen. I was about to take Jasper to the refectory. Will you join us?”

Owen looked at the boy, standing straight and smiling shyly. “You are so much improved you can eat in the refectory?”

Jasper nodded. “I like eating there. Someone reads while we eat, and everyone is quiet. I have never been in such a quiet place.”

Wulfstan put a fatherly hand on the boy’s shoulder. “So. Did you come to visit Jasper before the shop opened, or did you have another errand?”

“The Archbishop asked me to escort a man here this morning – Martin Wirthir. But Martin is not at his lodgings, and I see that he is not here. Have you heard anything of this?”

Wulfstan shook his head. “Perhaps Abbot Campian knows of this man. If it will not upset Lucie to have you gone so long, come to the refectory and share our humble meal. You can ask Abbot Campian after we have broken our fast.”

Owen accepted the invitation. While he ate, he thought about what he had meant to do this morning – disobey his lord. Who was he to judge the Archbishop’s motives? And yet to obey blindly was to join company with Jack, Tanner, and Roby, who had obeyed their master Paul Scorby without question.

So had he been wrong, all those years in Lancaster’s army, to obey blindly and expect his men to do so? Now that he knew the personal, selfish reasons the King had for the war in which Owen had lost his eye, he knew he could never go back into service and not question his superiors.

Had he been a fool? Would he be damned at the Last Judgment for all the lives he’d taken?

The reading ended. Wulfstan tapped Owen on the shoulder and nodded toward the Abbot, who had risen and was turning to leave. Owen crossed over to him. Abbot Campian nodded, motioned to Owen to follow him.

They did not speak until they reached the Abbot’s chambers.

“What brings you here so early on a winter morning?”

“I was to escort an injured man to Brother Wulfstan this morning – Martin Wirthir, a Fleming. But when I went to his lodgings, I found him gone. It occurred to me he might have come ahead, though I held little hope of that.”

“Why?”

“His lodgings had been packed up.”

Campian frowned. “A disturbing development. I did receive a message from His Grace last night warning me of this man’s arrival. But no one has come.”

“I thought not.”

“So you think he left the city?”

“It was not only Martin, but also the friend he lodged with. All of their belongings are gone. Surely they did not both move to another house.”

“But if one of them is injured, how can they travel? And why?”

“I don’t know.”

The Abbot fixed a keen eye on Owen. “Forgive my contradicting you, Captain Archer, but you do know why.” Campian held up his spotless hands. “Do not worry. As it is the Archbishop’s business, I would not presume to insist that you explain.”

“Thank you, Father.”

Lucie had already opened the shop when Owen returned. “You have been gone a good while. Have Martin and Ambrose come with you?”

“No. They are nowhere to be found. And there was something passing strange at Ambrose’s house.” Owen told her about the blood.

Lucie was as puzzled as Owen was. “I wish they had told us their plans. Now we will wonder about them.”

“I stopped at St. Mary’s, though I knew it unlikely they had gone there. Not after packing up the household.”

“Did you see Jasper?”

“He is doing well. Limping, but going to the refectory and chapel.”

Lucie smoothed Owen’s hair back from his face. “You feel chilled. Go back to the kitchen and let Tildy give you something warm. Then I need you out here to see to customers while I sew up some bedstraw pillows for Alice Baker.”

Brother Michaelo arrived shortly after midday. “Abbot Campian has informed His Grace that Martin Wirthir never arrived at the Abbey.”

“No doubt. I went to escort him this morning and found the house deserted.”

“Might His Grace know why you did not inform him of the situation?”

“I meant to, after closing the shop today.”

The nostrils flared. “Indeed.”

Owen came around from behind the counter, squaring his shoulders. “Do you think to question my honesty, Michaelo?”

Michaelo took two steps backward. “I shall tell His Grace what you have told me. Go in peace.” He left quietly.

“Mistress Digby.” Tildy opened the door wide.

“Aye, ’tis Magda, child. Get thy master out here. Magda needs a hand with sommat.”

Owen stepped outside. It had begun to blow, and there was a dampness in the air. A storm approaching. Owen squinted in the dark. A handcart stood outside the gate. Magda motioned him over. Inside was a freshly slaughtered pig in a wooden tub.

“Be quick, then. Carry it in. ’Tis for thy family.”

Owen carried it into the kitchen.

Tildy’s eyes lit up. “What a great beast.”

Lucie invited Magda to sit down by the fire. “It’s a most generous gift, Mistress Digby.”

“’Tis not from Magda. ’Tis from the musician and Pirate. This belongs with it.” She handed Lucie a piece of vellum.

Lucie frowned over it, then burst out laughing. She handed the note to Owen.

“Mistress Wilton, I have taken action at last. May this pig give you and Captain Archer much joy. Ambrose Coats.”

Owen looked up at Lucie, who was dabbing her eyes with a corner of her apron.

Magda’s eyes twinkled, too.

It irritated Owen that he could not see the humor they obviously saw. “What is so funny? What does he mean, ‘taken action at last’?”

Lucie reached over and squeezed Owen’s hand. “Remember his neighbor’s pig? I asked Ambrose why he did not report his neighbor if the pig bothered him so, and he said that he did not like to start trouble with his neighbors. I think it was because of Martin and the secrecy necessary. Ambrose did not want his neighbor to look for a reason to get even.”

“This is the neighbor’s pig?”

Magda nodded. “Killed it last night.”

“So you’ve seen Martin?” Owen said.

“Aye. Pirate suffers much. But Magda cleaned the arm, packed it with healing herbs, and tucked Pirate and Angel in a nice, safe place. They’ll not feel homesick, they brought everything with them, even the cat.” She chuckled. “’Tis good sport, eh? The Crow will not find them.”

Owen smiled. “Thoresby will be disappointed.”

“Good.” Magda stood up. “Must leave thee. Magda has had a long day.”

Lucie stood up. “Thank you for bringing the pig and the news.”

Magda nodded at her. “And a good time for it, eh? Thou shalt need plenty meat this winter.”

“True enough. I will come see you soon.”

Magda nodded. “Magda will see thee right. Dame Phillippa shalt have naught to complain of.” She hobbled out of the kitchen.

Owen turned to Lucie. “What did she mean?”

Lucie took his arm. “Tildy, will you lock up tonight?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Lucie led Owen up the stairs and closed the door behind them.

“All right,” Owen said, “what does Magda know that I don’t know? Are you with child? And you’ve told her but not me?”

“I am, but I didn’t. She just knows these things, Owen. So? What do you think?”

“I don’t like these games.”

“It is no game, Owen.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m only just now certain. Believe me.”