The Night of the Wolf by Cassandra Clark

Author:Cassandra Clark [Clark, Cassandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-02-15T16:00:00+00:00

FIVE

Willoughby’s house

It was not to be. Events next day prevented it.

The horses were being brought out. Pearce and his silent companion had been instructed to escort Chandler back to the abbey. Chandler, bag over his shoulder, ready to leave, met Pearce in the stables. He was in a strange, wild mood, slapping the horses rumps, kicking a bucket across the stalls, banging about and showing every sign of repressed rage.

‘Look, Pearce.’ Chandler went up to him. ‘Is it about this visitor Maud mentioned? Just forget it. She probably imagined him. You heard what Willoughby said yesterday.’

‘We’re getting nowhere! One of those vermin will know something.’

‘Do you include Willoughby in your list?’

‘What? The master? Why would he not say if he knew who it was?’

Chandler didn’t answer the question but instead said, ‘Let’s pool our knowledge.’

‘What knowledge?’

‘Tell me this. Who was it Evelyn went to meet at the chantry by North Gate?’

‘When was that?’

‘When she stole something of mine from my bag. She took it there in the hope of getting a price for it, I assume.’

‘That’s not something I’d be knowing, is it?’

‘Why not?’

He gave him a long-suffering stare. ‘For the reason that I’m employed here to work. She played while I worked. Who do you think she met?’

‘I don’t know. Don’t you have any idea?’

‘I don’t.’ He bunched his fists at some name that might have entered his head.

‘Was it the town summoner?’

‘She wouldn’t go looking for him. He’d find her.’

Chandler stifled a shudder. ‘I’ll take a look down there myself.’ He turned to leave.

‘You think there was somebody …’ Pearce gave him a wary glance.

‘It’s worth a look.’

‘What about these ’orses?’

‘Let’s go later. We’ll set out when I come back.’

‘If we don’t leave now we won’t be there till nightfall.’

‘I don’t mind.’

‘I do. Just me and ’im –’ he gestured towards his silent companion – ‘against who the hell knows who, roaming wild in their own outlaw territory?’

Chandler, aware of his own useful sword, considered the three of them – against unknown odds – and said, ‘Tomorrow then, if it suits you better? Why not delay and get this matter sorted?’

‘Work’s a bit slack now the clip’s been sent on.’ Pearce jerked his chin in a sign Chandler took to be agreement.

He left.

Pearce was either naturally surly or suffering in the inner recesses of his heart for the death of his lover. For Evelyn’s sake he hoped it was the latter. She deserved some fond remembrance. Everyone did.

Something made him ponder the feelings Willoughby, the husband, might own. Pride in possession did not have the same sting as love, he decided.

The chantry was a well-built little place erected side-on against the city wall near the gate to the open country and when Chandler strolled up the doors were wide open.

He hesitated, trying to look as if he was wondering whether to go inside, but a quick glance up and down the street showed nobody of any particular interest other than shoppers plying back and forth to market and, taking his time, his presence unremarked, he went to stand under the porch.

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