The Guilt of Innocents, page 1
Contents
Cover
Also by Candace Robb from Severn House
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Praise for the Owen Archer mysteries
About the Author
Acknowledgments
List of Characters
Glossary
Maps
Prologue
1. Best Intentions
2. Puzzling Connections
3. Journeys
4. Floater
5. The Charm
6. A Riddle of a Man
7. Secrets of the Heart
8. Scapegoat or Criminal?
9. The Miller’s Son
10. Snow and Ashes
11. Covetousness
12. A Length of Silk
Epilogue
Author’s Note
For Further Reading
Read on for an extract of A Vigil of Spies
Also by Candace Robb from Severn House
The Owen Archer mysteries
THE APOTHECARY ROSE
THE LADY CHAPEL
THE NUN’S TALE
THE KING’S BISHOP
THE RIDDLE OF ST. LEONARD’S
A GIFT OF SANCTUARY
A SPY FOR THE REDEEMER
THE CROSS-LEGGED KNIGHT
THE GUILT OF INNOCENTS
A VIGIL OF SPIES
A CONSPIRACY OF WOLVES
A CHOIR OF CROWS
THE RIVERWOMAN’S DRAGON
A FOX IN THE FOLD
THE GUILT OF INNOCENTS
Candace Robb
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
First published in the UK in 2007 by William Heinemann Ltd,
Acre House, 11-15 William Road, London NW1 3ER.
This eBook edition first published in the USA in 2023 by Severn House,
an imprint of Canongate Books Ltd,
14 High Street, Edinburgh EH1 1TE.
severnhouse.com
Copyright © Candace Robb, 2007
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The right of Candace Robb to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN-13: 978-1-4483-1343-3 (trade paper)
ISBN-13: 978-1-4483-1335-8 (e-book)
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental.
This eBook produced by
Palimpsest Book Production Limited,
Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland
As I was completing this book, I learned of the sudden death of a dear friend’s grandson, from diabetic ketoacidosis, and I knew that I wanted to dedicate this book to his memory.
Andrew Kyle Henderson, 15 April 1985—9 December 2005
“Full of zest and the joy of life, he laughed often and had a wonderful sense of humour. From his earliest years he quickly caught on to jokes and enjoyed making them. He was loving, and had the gift of attracting very good friends. Young men are so much more vulnerable than they know—or would be willing to admit.”
Praise for the Owen Archer mysteries
“Robb reinforces her place among the top writers of medieval historicals”
Publishers Weekly Starred Review
“Recommended for fans of other historical writers such as C.J. Sansom, Ellis Peters, and Sharon Kay Penman”
Library Journal
“As full of intrigue as a Deighton or a Le Carré”
The Guardian
“Gripping and believable … you can almost smell the streets of 14th-century York”
Prima
“A superb medieval mystery, thoroughly grounded in historical fact”
Booklist
“Meticulously researched, authentic and gripping”
Yorkshire Evening Post
“An utterly delightful jaunt!”
Historical Novels Review
“Robb puts the history back into the historical mystery”
Kirkus Reviews
About the author
Candace Robb has read and researched medieval history for many years, having studied for a Ph.D. in Medieval & Anglo-Saxon Literature. She divides her time between Seattle and the UK, frequently visiting York to research the series. She is the author of the Owen Archer mystery series, three Kate Clifford medieval mysteries, the Margaret Kerr trilogy and two historical novels written as Emma Campion.
candacerobbbooks.com
Acknowledgments
I want to thank historians RaGena D’Aragon, Jo Ann Hoeppner Moran, and Compton Reeves for their generous help, and the wonderful gang on Chaucernet for all sorts of incidental information and inspiration; Joyce Gibb for a careful first reading of the manuscript; the members of Medfem for feedback on birthing crosses; Kate Elton and Georgina Hawtrey-Woore for asking all the right questions, and all the talented people at Heinemann and Arrow who work behind the scenes.
Special thanks to Charlie for the 24/7 support and tlc he provides. I’m a lucky woman.
List of Characters
Owen Archer (Captain Archer)—captain of guard and spy for Archbishop of York; steward of Bishopthorpe
Lucie Wilton—master apothecary; Owen’s spouse
Nicholas Wilton—deceased, Lucie’s first husband, master apothecary
Hugh and Gwenllian—Owen and Lucie’s natural children
Jasper de Melton—Owen and Lucie’s adopted son and Lucie’s apprentice in the apothecary
Dame Phillippa—Lucie’s aged aunt
Alisoun Ffulford—nursemaid to Owen and Lucie’s children
Kate—Lucie’s housemail
Bess and Tom Merchet—owners of the York Tavern
Edric—apprentice in the apothecary
Magda Digby (aka The Riverwoman)—midwife and healer
John Thoresby*—Archbishop of York
Brother Michaelo—personal secretary to Thoresby
Drogo—pilot; abbey bargeman
Cissy (Cecilia)—Drogo’s wife
Hal, Bart, sly Pete—fellow abbey bargemen
George Hempe—city bailiff
Master John de York*—grammarmaster for St Peter’s School
Dame Agnes—housemother at the Clee, lodgings for the grammar school
Geoffrey, Ned—scholars of St Peter’s
Hubert de Weston—Jasper’s schoolmate
Aubrey and Ysenda de Weston—Hubert’s parents
Brother Henry—infirmarian, St Mary’s Abbey
Master Nicholas Ferriby*—vicar of Weston and master of private grammar school
Peter Ferriby—mercer; brother of Nicholas
Emma Ferriby—Peter’s wife, Lucie’s friend
Osmund Gamyll—son of Sir Baldwin Gamyll
Sir Baldwin Gamyll—Aubrey de Weston’s lord; father of Osmund, husband of Janet
Abbot Campian—abbot of St Mary’s Abbey
Alfred—member of archbishop’s guard, Owen’s second
Rafe, Gilbert—members of archbishop’s guard
Dean John*—dean of York Minster
Chancellor Thomas Farnilaw*—chancellor of York Minster; in charge of the schools
Canon William Ferriby*—member of minster chapter, brother of Nicholas and Peter; actual name John (see Author’s Note)
Nigel—journeyman goldsmith
Edward Munkton—goldsmith, Nigel’s master
Alice Tanner
Dame Lotta—Nigel’s landlady
Robert Dale—goldsmith
* * *
*Real historical character
Glossary
churching—a woman’s first appearance in church to give thanks after childbirth
mazer—a large wooden cup or bowl, often highly decorated
mystery—craft, or trade, particularly used in connection with craft guilds
pandemain—the finest quality white bread, made from flour sifted two or three times
scrip—a small bag or wallet
staithe—a landing-stage or wharf
toswollen—pregnant
Prologue
York, late November 1372
The tavern noises swirled above Drogo’s bent head, but he found them easier to ignore than the constant chatter of his daughters and wife in his tiny home. He loved them more than his life, but when he was home they could not let him rest. After a week piloting ships on the Ouse he was weary to the bone but they thought he was home to make repairs and listen to their tales of woe. So he’d come to the tavern intending to drink himself into a comfortable stupor and then stumble home to pass out, blissfully o
The man he least wished to see appeared at his table. ‘Behind the tavern,’ was all he said before turning sharp and walking back out into the chilly afternoon.
Fearing him too much to ignore him, Drogo gulped down what remained in his tankard and pushed himself from the table, clumsily spilling the drink of the well-dressed man across from him.
‘Watch what you’re doing,’ the man muttered.
Drogo apologised aloud, but beneath his breath he cursed as he walked away. ‘Mewling merchant. Thinks he’s the centre of God’s kingdom on earth. He can afford to spill ale.’
Outside the wind encouraged Drogo to duck quickly into the narrow alley. The overhanging roofs blocked what little light remained in the sky, and Drogo had not yet adjusted to the dark when he felt a sharp blade slice across his cheek. ‘For pity’s sake!’ He flung up his hands to shield himself but too late to prevent another cut, this one on his neck.
‘I warned you what would happen if you crossed me,’ his attacker growled. ‘Thieving and telling tales.’
Another flick of the blade sliced Drogo’s hands.
‘Keep your cursed money!’ Drogo shouted. ‘I wash my hands of you.’
He turned and bolted down Petergate and through Bootham Bar, the streets blessedly empty, not looking back until he stumbled just without the city walls. The bastard was not following. Drogo slowed his pace and hurried on towards the Abbey Staithe and the safety of his fellow bargemen.
‘Dear Lord, I swear I’ll stick to my proper work from now on, I’m a pilot and a bargeman, not a trafficker. I swear.’
1
Best Intentions
The Benedictine Abbey of St Mary dominated the northern bank of the River Ouse just upriver from the city of York, and it also owned extensive lands throughout Yorkshire and elsewhere in the realm whose rents and crops supported the community of monks. Its staithe, or dock, at the foot of Marygate served as the hub for moving the abbey’s products, supplies, and personnel, as well as the frequent visitors both clerical and noble. A group of liveried bargemen operated the staithe, chosen for their strength and knowledge of the river and its moods, not for their education or piety.
At St Peter’s School, the song and grammar school of York Minster, Master John de York presided over twelve endowed choristers and at least sixty paying young scholars, many of whom lived in the Clee, a house owned by the minster although attached to the Almonry of St Mary’s Abbey in Marygate, not far from the Abbey Staithe. The high spirited boys often tangled with the bargemen. The bargemen taunted the scholars for their privileged lifestyle and useless learning, and the boys retaliated by clambering about the landing place and sometimes onto the barges wreaking innocent havoc. Occasionally, the uneasy relationship erupted into violence…
As was his custom, Jasper de Melton had lingered in the classroom after the lessons ended for the day to copy an additional reading into his precious notebook of old parchment scraps that Captain Archer had bound for him. Master John hummed as he tidied the room, occasionally stealing a peek at Jasper’s work. The grammar master’s interest annoyed Jasper a little because he did not want to feel rushed. He’d make a mistake for sure, tired as he was by this time of day, and he hated scraping and recopying. That would be one less layer for a future reading. He sighed with relief when he came to the end of the brief passage. Even without the master he would have felt the urge to hurry this afternoon, for he wanted to accompany his fellow scholars to the Abbey Staithe.
Frosty air shocked him out of his late afternoon drowsiness as he pushed wide the door of St Peter’s School, and it momentarily killed his enthusiasm for the coming drama, an attempt by his fellows to recover a schoolmate’s scrip, or purse, from a less-than-honest abbey bargeman named Drogo who had just been seen back at the staithe. Jasper must head to the staithe now if he meant to participate, and then board the barges anchored there. The mere thought made him shrug up his shoulders to protect his neck and ears in anticipation of the cold—it was a week past Martinmas and winter had taken hold. He’d forgotten his cap this morning, and his hands, which stuck out of his sleeves, were already stinging from the icy air. He’d suddenly grown quite a bit. His foster mother Dame Lucie said that it was his recent burst of growth that caused his legs to ache at night, waking him, not unusual at the age of fourteen. A restless night was certainly the cause of his oversleeping this morning and then, in his hurry to be on time, forgetting his cap and gloves.
Jasper was glad to be back at the minster school among his friends—he enjoyed being caught up in the energy that bubbled up to the surface now and then, as it had today when the more senior boys heard that Drogo had been seen at the staithe. Timing was critical because Drogo frequently travelled up and down the Ouse piloting ships between York and the sea, so he might not stay long in the city. The older boys had quickly devised a plan to confront the man about Hubert’s scrip: the main body of scholars were to rush the bargemen and distract them while the older scholars dealt with Drogo.
Jasper wasn’t convinced that Hubert’s absence from school the past week had to do with the loss of his scrip. That had happened more than a fortnight earlier, and Hubert had attended class for a week afterwards. He knew that the lad had more on his mind than his lost scrip. In the autumn Jasper had come upon him behind the school, all curled into himself and weeping. Jasper had heard that the lad’s father was feared dead. Having lost his own father when younger than Hubert, Jasper understood the fear in the boy’s eyes when he loosened up and began to talk of his mother’s troubles with the farm, how suddenly they were poor. In Jasper’s opinion such a loss and the subsequent fear about the future were more likely to keep Hubert away from the classroom than would the loss of a scrip. Although if it had held money its recovery might comfort the lad a little.
Perhaps that was sufficient reason to help recover it, even though Jasper had promised the captain that he would not get involved in the skirmishes between the scholars and the bargemen. He was still debating whether to follow his fellows or to head straight home to the apothecary. He doubted he would contribute much as he was unfamiliar with the barges, but he knew he’d feel left out when the others talked about it afterwards. He was sympathetic to Hubert’s situation as well.
It was plain that he must quickly choose, for those leading the band of scholars were already out of sight. In fact, the light had faded enough that Jasper could see only the last few stragglers.
Surely he might be late to the apothecary this one afternoon. He’d been a diligent apprentice the past year, having withdrawn from school the previous autumn when Dame Lucie was injured in a fall and could not spare him from the apothecary—she was his master as well as his adoptive mother. Dame Lucie had regretted cutting short his education, so she’d worked to convince the guild to provide her a second apprentice in order that Jasper might complete his studies. A few months ago Edric had joined the household, an experienced apprentice a few years Jasper’s senior whose master had recently died. Edric could mind the shop.
By now his fellows were out of sight and it was a long way to the staithe—through the minster grounds to Petergate, out Bootham Bar and into the grounds of St Mary’s Abbey by the postern gate, and then out into Marygate and down to the landing. He shut the door behind him and took off into the fading light. Slipping occasionally on frozen mud, Jasper was breathing hard by the time he caught up with the last of the group at Bootham Bar, and his hands and ears were numb. He ignored his physical discomfort as he hurried with them across the abbey grounds, but that was just part of his discomfort now, as he noticed they were being joined by curious onlookers, adults, strangers, not their fellows. He was growing increasingly uneasy about what else might be happening, about what he might be heading into.
As shouts echoed from the staithe, he and the stragglers ran the last few yards, then slowed upon reaching the barrels and covered flats that had been offloaded from the barges. The long, flat-bottomed vessels were bobbing on the water with the movements of several dozen people darting about, shouting, waving arms. The fading light made it difficult to tell bargemen from the older boys at first, and Jasper thought he’d made a mistake in coming. Glancing around at the gathering crowd he saw fists clenched and heard tension in the voices muttering about privileged scholars and hard-working bargemen, poor lads defending their own and bullying staithe workers. This was growing into something much larger than merely recovering a friend’s purse.
