He needed to inform Sir John Neville of his findings. But the precentor and dean deserved to be the first to receive word.
‘Denis, Stephen, watch them.’ Motioning to Alfred to follow him, Owen went out to the shop.
‘Can I trust Denis to guard Will here for the day, to spare him public humiliation?’ Owen asked.
‘As long as he’s not responsible for Carl as well, I would trust him,’ said Alfred. ‘But why ask me?’
‘I’ve no time to think it through. I need to move quickly, before Sir John hears that Ambrose is recovering in my home.’
‘But he’s at the abbey.’
‘I pray his spies followed them to our door and then went back to make their report. No eyes left watching to see Tom Merchet take delivery.’ When he saw that Alfred understood, Owen set out his plan. Alfred and Stephen were to deliver Carl to the castle. Denis would guard Will at the house. By nightfall Owen would know whether or not Will Farfield was to be freed to follow his despair, or whether he, too, was for the castle.
‘Where are you going?’ asked Alfred.
‘To Jehannes. I’ll collect Beck and Ronan’s hoard, and take them to the dean and precentor.’ Beck would do his best to be seen assisting the investigation if he hoped to remain a clerk in the service of the minster chapter. ‘From there to Neville.’
‘A day’s work before you reach the palace? Tell the others and be on your way, Captain.’
For the moment the apothecary was quiet, the sole customer a young servant wide-eyed with the importance of the mission entrusted to him, fetching a headache powder for his master. As Jasper finished wrapping the physick he heard the squeak of the gate from the tavern yard. He had left the rear door ajar so he might listen for that very sound, or for Alisoun calling for him. Neither doubted someone would try to retrieve Ambrose. Handing the lad the small package, Jasper saw him out, and was about to shut the street door when George Hempe rushed through, finger to mouth, gesturing toward the back.
Jasper closed the street door, locked it.
‘Two men in the garden,’ said Hempe. ‘Seen dumping Pit’s body in the Ouse this morning. One of my men is waiting in the tavern yard. We’ll take them.’
‘They will be here for Ambrose,’ said Jasper, picking up a dagger and cudgel as he followed Hempe’s silent passage through the workroom. A few steps out the door, Hempe stopped. Was he grinning? Jasper peered round him to see.
Alisoun stood in front of the long window next door, an arrow aimed at a pair on the garden path halfway between the shop and the house, their backs to Jasper and Hempe. One of the men was injured, an arm in a sling. The other leaned heavily on one leg. Porter and Diggs, Jasper guessed, wanting vengeance and the reward of delivering Ambrose.
‘Put that away, girl,’ Diggs drawled. ‘Luck served you last night. It won’t today. We want the minstrel. Hand him over and there will be no trouble.’
Alisoun aimed at Diggs’s uninjured arm. ‘Are you certain you want to test me?’
Diggs wobbled as if finding it difficult to stay upright, but Porter lunged. Jasper was there before Hempe could reach him, delivering a blow to the head sufficient to fell him. Hempe called to the men waiting at either gate.
‘They’ll be coming with me to the castle,’ said Hempe. He nodded to one of the men to pick up Porter, who lay limp on the ground. The other had already secured Diggs, with Alisoun’s help.
‘Get your hands off me, you filthy cow,’ Diggs growled, and caught Jasper’s cudgel in his gut.
‘Send for a healer for this one,’ Alisoun told Hempe. ‘His sleeve reeks of low-tide mud and muck and he grows weak.’
Hempe thanked Alisoun and Jasper. ‘With you two guarding him, Ambrose can rest easy.’
Alisoun grinned. ‘He went to the abbey hours ago.’
Hempe chuckled. ‘Of course Owen would think of that.’ He nodded and was off, pushing past Rose and Rob, who were crestfallen to have missed the excitement.
The twins hailed Owen just as he reached the minster gate with a tale of Alisoun’s and Jasper’s bravery, Pit’s demise. As Owen had guessed, Pit’s mission failed, Sir John had condemned him. Or Porter and Diggs had taken it upon themselves, hoping to redeem themselves after last night’s foolishness. They had triply failed.
He set the twins the task of taking food and ale to Denis, then briefly told them enough about what he had learned of Ronan’s murder to satisfy Lucie and give her the background she needed in case Sir John Neville sent more men to the house.
SEVENTEEN
The Archbishop’s Choice
Jehannes need say nothing, his expression made clear the weakness of Owen’s argument on Will Farfield’s behalf.
‘It is for the dean to decide whether or not Will was culpable in this.’
‘I fear he will defer to the archbishop.’
‘I’ve little doubt he will do just that,’ said Jehannes. ‘But you do not want to cross His Grace at a time when he is most keen to impress us with the strength of the family supporting him. Is that not the very purpose of the Nevilles’ strong presence in the city? If you should embarrass him before them …’ Jehannes placed a hand on Owen’s shoulder. ‘You carry a double burden – the honor of the city and the heir to the throne. You do not need the Nevilles as enemies.’
Dean John and Master Adam grew anxious of the time. They had arranged for the chapter to meet after morning prayers and the hour approached when they must appear. Yet here they were, waiting at the palace.
‘Do they mean to insult us?’ the dean snapped, looking to Owen as if he
