‘Well!’ said Alys at Gil’s elbow. ‘Were you expecting that?’
Chapter Fourteen
‘Not entirely, I’ll admit,’ Gil said.
They were briefly gathered in the little solar, after an extended session with Otterburn and the Archbishop. Otterburn’s satisfaction with the outcome of the anathema was as great as his master’s, though with a slightly different slant.
‘Two o these deaths tidied up,’ he said, rubbing his hands together. ‘They’ve confessed, the both o them, though to hear them Austin thought he was protecting Henry when he broke the one lassie’s neck, and again when he took a candlestock to the other dame, and Henry reckoned he was protecting Austin when he got him away and tried to conceal it.’
‘Austin has repented very completely,’ said the Archbishop in Latin. ‘His brother will also repent of his part in the whole affair once we have discussed it with him. A very good outcome, Gilbert, and I commend your part in it, as well as that of your servant Lawrence.’
‘Aye,’ said Otterburn rather drily.
‘I was certain it was one of those two,’ said Gil now in answer to Alys, ‘but I’ll admit I still thought it was Henry did the actual killing. Austin never showed any sign of a quick temper, though I suppose his brother kept him on so short a leash he never had the chance.’
‘Little surprise he broke,’ said Lowrie. ‘I hope I never hear another anathema. The way the clauses mount up, threat upon threat,’ he demonstrated a growing stack with both hands, ‘must be designed to generate fear, and by Christ’s nails it does.’
‘It is indeed designed to be terrifying,’ commented Catherine, ‘and it would be a foolish person who was not struck by fear.’
‘But what did happen?’ Alys asked. ‘Did the Provost learn why the women died?’
‘They were both finding fault wi Henry, and that roused Austin,’ Gil said. ‘Peg was convinced it was one of them had infected her wi the clap.’
‘Surely not!’ said Alys. ‘It would have been as likely the other way around, I should have said.’
‘It could have been either,’ Gil said, considering this. ‘I’d ha thought both parties were equally advanced in the complaint, though Januar said the rages were a sign in the later stages of the disease, and Peg showed no such sign as yet.’
‘So perhaps she was right,’ said Alys thoughtfully. Lowrie was scarlet, looking increasingly awkward, and she smiled kindly at him and said, ‘In any case, she was convinced of it.’
‘She was,’ agreed Gil, ‘and demanded some reparation for it, out in the street where all could hear, said Austin.’
‘Including the man Johnson, I assume,’ said Lowrie, relief in his tone.
‘Exactly. Then she went for Henry when he refused her. He marked her face the way we all saw it, but she managed to scratch his throat, and then when Austin flung her off, she struck the wall and broke her neck. That’s probably no hanging matter, but at least we ken the truth now. As for Dame Ellen, it seems she’d already summoned the brothers to meet her in the chapel after the hostel dinner hour, and by the time they came she’d heard Johnson’s wife and guessed who it must ha been that he heard arguing. According to Henry she was abusing him for a’ things, for spoiling her plans by losing his temper, and his brother seized the candlestick and struck her down. Austin should certainly hang for that, and maybe Henry as well.’
‘He did more than strike her down,’ said Lowrie, grimacing.
‘She was an unpleasant woman,’ said Alys, ‘but nobody deserves to die like that.’ She shivered slightly. ‘That night when Annie was at the Cross has been a busy one. My- My good-mother,’ she went on resolutely, ‘spoke of crows, of shadows, about young Berthold. Indeed it seems as if the night was full of shadows, of people like crows on a wall watching and waiting for one death or another. There was the doctor moving about, and making use of Peg’s death,’ she counted, ‘and then there was whoever it was tried to strangle her, and the Muirs swaggering through all of it after they killed her, though I suppose they are not like crows. Three crows, like the song.’
‘Not entirely like the song,’ said Gil. ‘And those are all linked to Peg, not to Berthold. We don’t know of any connection between them.’
‘And has anyone spoken to Berthold lately?’ she wondered. ‘Now that we know more about what was happening, perhaps we can reassure him enough for him to tell us what he saw.’
‘A good point,’ said Gil. ‘But best dealt wi tomorrow.’
Alys lifted the wine jug. ‘Will you have some more, Gil? Lowrie?’
‘No if I’m to go out again,’ Gil said. ‘There’s the matter o Stockfish Tam and his customer to see to. No, I’ll no take you, Lowrie, we’ve been over that.’
‘I’ll admit, I’m about ready for my bed,’ said Lowrie, ducking his head in acknowledgement of this. ‘Forty mile, a long discussion, and a day of Euan’s conversation. I’m about done.’
‘So we still don’t know,’ said Alys, pouring wine for the rest of them, ‘who killed Barnabas and who tried to strangle a dead woman at the Cross. Do you suspect someone?’ she asked Gil.
‘I do,’ he said, ‘but I’ve already been wrong once. We’ll see what happens in a few hours.’
‘There’s no a lot o cover,’ said Tam dubiously to the captain of the Castle guard. ‘No place to hide. Yir men’s going to show up like a deid sheep on the shore.’
‘I brought the best yins,’ said Andro. ‘No that that’s saying a lot,’ he added, and the three fellows behind him stopped grinning. ‘So we’ll hope they can lie in concealment wi’out alerting the quarry. How did yir man reach you afore? Where did he wait for you?’
‘Under they bushes.’ Tam pointed.
‘But it’s a different man, mind,’ Gil said. ‘No telling what he’ll do.’
‘Aye.’ Andro looked about him. The night was cloudy, and a brisk wind had got up, making sufficient noise in the trees to cover movement. ‘We’ll ha two o you lads in the sail shed, I think, and you and me, Richie, ahint yon bushes. Where will you lie up, Maister Cunningham?’
‘I think,’ said Gil, who had had time to consider the matter, ‘I’ll sit out by the brazier. No need for Tam to be the bait, our man has no notion of who he’s to meet so far as we ken, and in the dark he’ll not get a right sight of me.’
‘Here-’ began Tam.
‘Aye, that would work,’ said Andro.
‘No, it’s no right,’ protested Tam. ‘I’m no one to stand by-’
‘You’ll come wi Richie and me,’ said Andro, ‘so we’ll cut off his retreat if he tries to flee that way. What time do you look for him?’
‘Any hour fro now on,’ said Tam, still dubious. ‘Maister, I’m sweirt to let you take my place, I am that!’
‘Did I hear something?’ said one of Andro’s men.
‘Aye. Places,’ said Andro, low voiced, ‘and nae mair argument. Bring that light, Richie.’
Sitting on a balk of wood by the brazier, Gil warmed his hands and listened. The river rippled past ten feet away, chuckling quietly to itself. He could hear small movements in the sail-shed behind him as the two men lurking there settled down, and occasional more distant stirrings which must be night birds, small animals, a hunting fox. His own lantern gave a little light; now they were in place, Andro’s men had shut theirs and showed no sign.
The row of small houses belonging to the shore folk, set well back from the strand, was silent. Beyond that, the burgh seemed to be asleep, except for the occasional barking dog; on the opposite bank Govan slept as peacefully.
The sound which had alerted Andro’s man came again, a shifting of stone on stone. A footfall, or the sound of a wheel, Gil wondered. Surely he wouldn’t bring the cart down tonight, he thought, he can’t be certain of meeting his man. Another footfall, a scuffle, a muttered curse. A light bobbed into view on the rough ground at the foot of St Thenew’s croft, came closer. Stopped by the nearest clump of bushes.