‘Much finer than Holy Trinity,’ he said.
‘Wealthier,’ said Ned.
Brother Henry welcomed Owen to his infirmary, calling for his assistant Peter to escort Gabriel to a bed in an area screened off from those of the infirm monks and make him comfortable. Ned took his leave, promising to return as soon as he had completed his mission. Owen explained to the infirmarian who Gabriel was, what had happened, why he must be watched.
A raised brow. ‘You would have him relaxed, sleepy?’ asked Brother Henry.
‘Brother Wulfstan taught you well.’
They both crossed themselves in memory of Henry’s predecessor as infirmarian, a wise, gentle monk who had been both Lucie’s and Jasper’s good friend.
‘My thoughts were filled with him as the pestilence struck this summer,’ said Henry. Wulfstan had died assisting victims of the pestilence. ‘We lost two members of the community this time.’
‘You have a new assistant.’
‘Yes. I blamed myself – my tales of Wulfstan’s self-sacrifice inspired him. Yet how could I forbid him? He was doing God’s work.’ A shuddering sigh. ‘You might wish to speak with Abbot William. One of Sir John Neville’s retainers called on him, wanting to know who had arranged to lodge at the abbey for the enthronement.’ He nodded at Owen’s thanks. ‘And now to work.’ Henry poured a cup of wine from a pitcher and emptied a small vial into it. ‘I will administer this after I tend to his injuries. I need him awake to tell me what he feels. Once he drinks this, he will soon find it difficult to rise from his bed.’
‘A little something first, to make him drowsy?’
Henry agreed. ‘A drop.’
‘If he should speak of a guest in my home, a woman, I ask you and Peter to say nothing of it to anyone. Can Peter be trusted?’
‘He believes God calls him to work by my side, and he is keen, quick to help. If I order him to silence, he will obey. He would not risk my ire. This young man, Ned. He said he would be returning. Do you trust him to watch over Gabriel?’
‘I need him elsewhere. Is there anyone at the abbey you might trust to guard your infirmary for the nonce? Until I make another arrangement?’
Henry walked over to a window opening onto the apothecary garden. A lay brother knelt on the path, moving with studied patience as he clipped wilting plants, plucked up weeds. ‘Malkin!’ the infirmarian called out. The gardener turned, raising a large, meaty hand in greeting. His face was scarred, his nose flattened by repeated breaks. ‘I need you in the infirmary for a while.’
With a wistful glance back at his work the man rose, unfurling a muscle-bound body, and lumbered slowly up the path.
‘Former soldier,’ Owen said. ‘Good choice.’ Even if the man now shunned his old life as a soldier his presence should be an effective deterrent to violence.
The abbot’s house was near the infirmary, nestled in well-tended gardens. A novice answered Owen’s knock, bowing him in and motioning him to a seat in the anteroom screened off from the modest hall, all without making eye contact. Cowed by Abbot William, Owen guessed. The abbot was not well loved. Not as high born as his predecessor Campian and anxious to appease his superiors, he took out his frustrations on his subordinates. The novice quickly returned to escort Owen to the abbot’s study.
‘My dear Captain Archer.’ The abbot bowed to Owen and motioned him to a comfortable chair by a window opening onto the garden. ‘Wine?’ Owen’s connection to Prince Edward made him a favored visitor.
‘I would welcome a cup,’ said Owen, taking his seat. ‘I have installed a member of Sir Thomas Percy’s household in your infirmary. A hunting accident.’
‘Sir Thomas Percy. Ah.’ An obsequious smile.
‘It is important that I hear at once of anyone seeking to speak with him or of any attempt on his part to leave the abbey grounds.’
‘He is not free to move about?’
‘A young man with an unfortunate penchant for trouble. With His Grace the archbishop’s enthronement about to commence, I would have peace in the city.’
‘He is not involved in the vicar’s death? Or the man fallen from the chapter-house roof?’
‘I cannot say that I am satisfied with his explanations of where he was that morning, however, as he is Percy’s man …’
A worried frown, quickly smoothed away. ‘I see.’
‘Brother Henry has arranged for a lay brother to guard him until I can send one of the city’s men to take his place.’
‘Good. Good. I understand the chapter house was graced by an angelic voice that night.’ Unlike his predecessor, William relished gossip.
‘So they say.’
‘The singer is not lodging with you?’
‘The youth is ill. I cannot attest to an angelic voice,’ said Owen. ‘I understand Sir John Neville has asked for a list of those who will lodge here for his brother’s enthronement.’
‘You heard?’ An indignant shiver. ‘The gall. The arrogance. But I could hardly deny his request.’
‘Might you share the list with me? For His Grace the prince? He will be sending representatives …’
‘Yes, the pair will lodge here, I am pleased to say, with their servants.’
‘Did you hear whether Dom Antony is in the party? He had been uncertain …’
‘He is indeed. I am honored to welcome him back. His companion is a knight, though the message did not stipulate which knight.’
Sir Lewis Clifford, Owen prayed, a reasonable man. ‘You will understand, then, that His Grace will want to know who else will be here.’
‘Of course. Several knights in the service of the Percy family, all those not lodging in townhouses outside the minster liberty.’ Most of the prominent families of the North owned property in the city, leased to townsfolk or visiting clergy, but with insufficient room for all their attendants and retainers. ‘The remaining space here will be filled by clerics displaced by the influx of nobles and their own superiors. We will be quite full. One prays that few linger beyond the festivities.’
Percys at the Abbey was good news. They could take charge of Gabriel once they arrived. ‘No Nevilles here?’
‘No. They will of course bide in the archbishop’s palace here and at Bishopthorpe.’
‘Does Brother Henry know the Percys will be here?’
‘It is no secret. I have met with all the obedientiaries to discuss how we shall cope with so many guests. It will strain discipline, draw our attention from prayer.’
Owen had learned what he needed. Taking his leave of the abbot, he found Ned awaiting him near the door. He had found Hempe, delivered the messages, and reported that the bailiff was off to speak with Judith, Tucker’s wife.
Once Lucie and Alisoun had removed all trace of the injured man from the kitchen, they relieved Bess Merchet of the children.
‘Where is Marian? I thought she was to sit with you,’ said Alisoun.
‘She returned for a while, then retired to her chamber to rest,’ said Bess. Tickling Emma, hugging Gwen and Hugh, she bustled out onto the landing. ‘And now I must see how the tavern has fared without me.’
Lucie walked her out, apologizing for keeping her so long from her work.
Bess squeezed her shoulder. ‘It is good to see the bloom of health on the three of them – even Hugh. I feared for him. He took so long to recover. Forgive me for mentioning it.’
‘As if it were far from my mind? Not yet. You love them as if they were yours, I know, Bess.’
‘In truth I miss having little ones underfoot. My petty complaints fade away listening to their prattle. You should know that Gwen is much troubled about Marian’s presence in the house.’
‘Is she?’ Lucie had worried. Emma was of course too young to make anything of the addition to the household. But Gwen listened with keen ears to all that was said in the household, and Hugh followed her lead in everything. ‘Is Hugh also worried?’