‘A man might grow wealthy offering such services to those with deep purses,’ said Owen.
A shrug.
‘How well did you know Ronan?’
‘Not well.’
‘But you had met with him yesterday?’
A slight shiver. ‘We are, or rather were, all consulting him on the archbishop’s preferences, Captain Archer. You will find few in the close who have not met with him frequently in the past fortnight. So much to be done. We must make a good impression.’
‘If you do not?’
At last the chancellor turned from the window, frowning. ‘I fear His Grace and his ambitious brother will make trouble for the dean and chapter. They count this as a great step up for the family. The second most powerful man in the English church is now a Neville. They expect us to make a great show of welcoming him, giving him the honor they believe he deserves. Or, perhaps, desires. One wonders … Alexander is so young. Were he not the brother of Sir John Neville – Admiral of the North, Steward of the King’s Household – would he have been considered for the post? Has he the maturity and breadth of experience to wield the power of this position with the proper mix of compassion and authority?’ A slight shake of the head, making clear Thomas’s impression.
Owen stepped into the opening the chancellor had provided. ‘I understand the family took an active role in convincing the chapter to choose Alexander as archbishop.’
A misstep. Thomas’s smile was anything but friendly. ‘Of course you’d hoped Ravenser would be chosen. A smooth transition for you, a malleable archbishop.’
‘An honorable man trusted by King Edward and his late beloved queen. Yes, I prefer him by far as a shepherd of the Church.’ Owen smiled. ‘But I did not serve John Thoresby without learning what is needed in the role.’
‘So you see the benefit of a Neville in the position.’
‘I do. That was not my question. Is it possible that the new archbishop made loans as promises of support to come?’
‘Acting as a money-lender? Captain, you know that is forbidden.’
‘And yet such agreements are often made.’
A shrug. ‘As I have no knowledge of any such loans, I could not presume to speak to that. Nor have I any knowledge of his seeking contributions to the funds for the lady chapel or other building projects. He did not consult me about anything of the sort.’
A careful man, the chancellor. Owen learned little more, and left before his impatience became obvious. His lack of sleep threatened to impair his tact. He rose so abruptly that Michaelo looked up from his work, startled. He had almost forgotten the monk’s presence, he had been so quiet. He wondered whether it was an art Michaelo had perfected as a child, his ability to disappear in full sight, or come upon one with no warning, or whether it was something he had learned in Thoresby’s service.
Before continuing on to the shops of the gold- and silversmiths whose work had been included in Ronan’s hoard, Owen told Michaelo he wished to stop at home to make his request to Kate regarding her twin siblings.
‘If you do not require my services for this, I will withdraw to Jehannes’s house for an hour of prayer,’ said Michaelo.
‘Of course.’
At the bottom of Stonegate, Owen noticed that a line had formed in front of the apothecary, common at this time of year in the morning and early evening, but not so soon after midday. He avoided notice by using the garden gate off Davygate and hurried to the workroom behind the shop to see whether anything had happened, a fresh outbreak of the pestilence or some other illness rushing through the city.
Jasper bent over the long worktable in the middle, crushing precious stones.
‘Your favorite task,’ Owen noted.
A dramatic groan. Jasper displayed reddened hands. ‘I do it only to spare Mother’s hands and arms.’
Owen flicked at a gray powder on the hank of fair hair falling over Jasper’s eyes. ‘Why such a long line at this time of day?’
‘I closed for a while, to hear what Dame Magda had to say. When I opened up to sweep the entrance, folk poured in. They come for the gossip.’
‘And the stones?’ Owen had never known them to be in such immediate demand to warrant attention at a busy time.
‘Red Timothy asked me whether it was true that precious stones were good protection from fever. I should have said nothing, but it was something I know about and I started talking about the protective properties of some jewels, pearls, other stones …’ Jasper screwed up his face. ‘And then everyone wanted stone powder in their physicks. Now I pay for it.’
‘As do they. Raises the price.’
Jasper grinned. ‘That it does.’
‘Have you overheard any helpful rumors?’
‘No. Except that Tucker’s been injured. That’s a fact, not a rumor. We made up a salve for him, and Dame Magda went to see to him.’
‘Tucker the fiddler?’
Jasper nodded. ‘He lodged Ambrose, didn’t he? And the woman.’
‘He did,’ said Owen. ‘Who came to the shop for the salve? What sort of injury?’
‘His wife, Dame Judith. Says when she returned from market the door was swinging open and Tucker lying on the floor groaning, pressing a cut on his forehead to stop the bleeding. But it’s his back that’s bad. He fell backward over a bench. Now he cannot straighten to walk.’
‘Can he talk?’
‘Sounds like it.’
‘And Magda is with him now?’
Jasper nodded. ‘It seems a lot of trouble for two minstrels.’
‘Ah. Magda told you how Ambrose came to be here.’
‘She did. But – how much trouble could he cause the king of France with his story?’
‘Quite a lot if the prince’s brothers decide to blame King Charles’s men for his long illness and the loss of so much of the Aquitaine.’
‘But without Prince Edward to lead them in battle …’
‘Even so, son. I
