The Witch Hunter's Tale(95)

“Samuel Short said you left the Castle with Will,” Martha said. She had no time for idle talk. “Do you know where he went?”

“We entered the city together, and parted ways when we reached the Ouse Bridge. I came south, and he turned on Coney Street. I assumed he was going straight to you,” he said. “Where else could he go?”

“That’s what we are trying to find out,” I replied.

“Samuel Short said that he seemed strange when he left,” Martha said. “Was he not pleased to be free?”

“He was pleased at the prospect,” Daniels replied. “But after the hanging he seemed overcome by melancholy.”

“Hanging?” I asked.

“We could see his brother’s execution from the window of our cell,” Daniels replied.

“Oh, Christ,” Martha said. “And he watched?”

“I tried to talk him out of it,” Daniels said. “What good could come of seeing such a thing? Afterward a guard told us how it had come to pass.”

“And what did he say?” I asked. A knot of fear began to grow in my guts.

“That you testified against Mr. Hodgson and accused him of witchcraft and of murdering Mr. Breary,” Stephen replied. “It was all the talk in the Castle. It’s not often that a man like Mr. Hodgson finds himself on the loop-end of the hangman’s rope.”

“What did the guard say?” I demanded. “Did he tell you what I said to the jury?”

“Aye, every word. He said he was in the hall when you spoke. After that Will sat in the corner of the cell until we were released.”

“And he said nothing?” I asked.

“He prayed some,” Daniels replied. “And he told me he was going home. That was all.”

I thanked Helen and Stephen for their help, and then Martha and I began the journey home. The cold seemed to bite more fiercely than it had earlier in the day, and though the sun shone brightly it provided little warmth.

“He knows I lied about Joseph,” I said. “He blames me for his brother’s death.”

“We lied,” Martha said. “And he knows we had no choice. He cannot blame you for it.”

“Then where is he?” I asked. “He only had to walk a few more steps, and he would have been home.”

Martha did not reply. What could she have said? We arrived home to the joyful noise of children full of cakes, but Will had not returned.

That night I knelt and prayed that the Lord would deliver Will from whatever melancholy afflicted him and bring him safely into my home and into Martha’s arms.

When I heard a knock at the door the next morning my heart began to pound in my chest. I did not think that it would be Will—why would he start to knock now?—but I feared that it might be a messenger with ill news. I opened the door to find a young man standing outside.

“My lady,” he murmured with a low and practiced bow. “The Right Worshipful Lord Mayor Matthew Greenbury requests your presence immediately. And your deputy’s as well.”

“Can you tell me what this concerns?” I asked.

“No, my lady,” he said. “He simply asked me to deliver the summons.”

“Of course,” I replied. “I shall have to dress. Tell the Lord Mayor I will call on him within an hour.” The lad bowed once again and set off.

I called for Martha and told her what had happened. I could see the worry on her face.

“I don’t think it is related to Will,” I assured her. “If something had happened he would not be so formal.”

Martha went to change into her best dress, and I summoned Hannah to help me do the same. Within the hour we were on our way.

“Could he know that we discovered his wife’s adultery?” Martha asked as we walked. “Perhaps he simply wants to warn us to keep his secrets.” We had crossed the Ouse Bridge and entered Micklegate Ward.

“Perhaps,” I replied. I had no idea what he could want.

We knocked on the Lord Mayor’s door and the footman ushered us in. He sent Martha to the kitchen to wait with the rest of the servants and led me to the Lord Mayor. As we passed the parlor I could not help remembering our conversation with young Agnes. Had it only been a few weeks earlier? Her infidelities seemed so small compared to the carnage that had followed.

The Lord Mayor was sitting at his desk when I entered. He did not rise, nor did he bid me sit. This, it seemed, would be a formal visit.

“You have caused a great deal of trouble in recent weeks, my lady.”

“We live in troubled times, my Lord Mayor.”

The Lord Mayor smiled at this, but I found little warmth in his eyes. “True enough. But I am unused to it coming from a gentlewoman.”