08 A Relic of Saint Cedd by Joyce Lionarons

Author:Joyce Lionarons [Lionarons, Joyce]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery & Detective - Middle Ages
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, Inc.
Published: 2019-05-05T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Once Turney was out the door, Cordwainer turned. “Hugh!” he shouted. “I need you!”

Hugh ran into the front chamber, a honeyed wafer in one hand.

“Quick! Put on your cloak and follow him. Do not let yourself be seen, and do not speak to him. I want to know where he goes and who he speaks to. Come back if you think he’s likely to stay where he is – and do not stay out past nightfall.”

Before Cordwainer had finished his instructions, Hugh had crammed the last of the wafer into his mouth and pulled his cloak over his shoulders. “Aye, Master Cordwainer,” he said, spewing sticky crumbs into the floor rushes. “I understand.” He poked his head out the door. “I see him. He’s going up to Micklegate.” He turned his head over his shoulder and grinned at Cordwainer, then slipped out onto the street.

Cordwainer shut the door. “Agytha! I need a poultice for my hip!” he called. He walked to his chair and sat, putting his feet on the footstool, then drank the last of his ale.

“I thought you were going to read with Hugh,” said Agytha, coming in with her hands in her apron. “Where did you send him off to?”

“My hip hurts too much to read,” Cordwainer replied. “But I would like a honey wafer.”

“Aye, Master, once I have finished the poultice.” She stood looking at him, smiling in anticipation.

“What?” Cordwainer asked.

“Did you see the baby? What did you think? He’s the spit and image of you and Adam, is he not?”

“Nay, I did not see the baby. Thomas said he would not have time to walk back to the city with me afterward.”

Agytha’s smile faded. “But I thought – ”

“I need a poultice, Agytha. My hip hurts.”

“Aye, Master, I will make it. And I will have words with Thomas when he returns.” She spun on her heel and stalked back into the kitchen.

Cordwainer leaned back in his chair again, feeling guilty for having misrepresented what Thomas had said. Twas no matter, he thought. Agytha would agree that Thomas should have stayed at the King’s Head with him, lest he fall walking home alone.

He chuckled as he remembered Turney’s contemptuous glance. Twas clear he had convinced the man he was both too infirm and too stupid to be a competitor in the hunt for Wydebrok’s killer. But how much, if anything, of what Turney had told him was true? His tale of a killer following two young thieves to steal the relic was at least plausible, but Cordwainer understood why Berta had not trusted the man. Twas something in his smile that was wrong somehow. Was his not-so-veiled suggestion that Cordwainer find Matthias Bundy and have him charged with the murders worth considering, or was it a blind alley meant to keep him out of Turney’s way? Could he be certain Bundy even existed?

Cordwainer snorted. He would watch and wait, gathering what information he could, until Turney made a mistake that would reveal the truth of the matter.

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