Free The Riddle of St Leonard's by Candace Robb Page A

Warrene had collected some clothes, bedding, and such to burn. The fire flared up in his face and caught his clothes. He fled to the house and set it alight before anyone could help.’
    ‘Was no one tending the fire?’
    ‘Warrene was.’
    ‘It was an accident?’
    Owen found that a curious question. ‘As far as anyone knows. Though I heard it suggested at the tavern that he wished to follow his wife.’
    ‘But to take his life …’ Jasper shook his head.
    ‘It is passing strange.’
    They passed the castle mills. Jasper turned to Owen as they reached St George’s Field. ‘Does Mistress Merchet wish you to find out what happened?’
    ‘Nay, lad. And you can be sure that if Bess decides there is cause for concern she will be the one to poke and prod.’ Owen disappeared into a small building and emerged with a straw butt, which he set down in the middle of the cleared area. Jasper had a talent for the longbow, as had his father. And as a former captain of archers, Owen enjoyed training the lad. ‘Now. Today we work on your aim.’
    Jasper readied his longbow, took his stance.
    Owen adjusted the lad’s right elbow, nudging it up, pulled back on the left shoulder. ‘Can you feel the difference?’
    Jasper had been squinting, ready to fire. Now he closed his eyes, opened them. ‘Moving my left shoulder like that feels odd. Like the bow is aiming left now.’
    Owen got behind him, sighted, shook his head. ‘Sighting with my right eye might make a difference, though I thought I knew how to judge that. Try it like this.’
    Jasper squinted, let go the arrow. It landed true. He turned towards Owen with a look of wonder. ‘You aim better with one eye than I do with two.’
    ‘Eyes and body work together. ’Tis part of why we practise. Over and over until you know how it feels. Now, again.’
    They worked at it for a while, then Owen suggested they walk down to the bank where the Foss and Ouse converged. His purpose in bringing Jasper to the field today had been to talk to him, convince him that Lucie would not rest easy unless the lad followed Hugh and Gwenllian to Freythorpe Hadden. But how to begin?
    ‘Is that why you still shoot so well, Captain? Because you feel how to adjust your aim?’
    ‘Somewhat. And days, weeks, months of training myself over again after I lost my eye.’
    ‘So you meant to continue as captain of archers?’
    ‘Nay, lad. I meant to sail to Italy and offer my services as a mercenary. Over there, a man might make enough to live in such service.’
    ‘You wanted to become a mercenary?’
    ‘A dark, devilish secret, eh? I lusted for blood.’ Owen laughed to see the surprise on Jasper’s face. He patted the boy on the back. ‘Nay, ’twas nothing so terrible. I could think of naught else to do. My lord was dead. I believed he had kept me in his service after I’d lost my eye out of Christian duty. Henry of Grosmont was a devout man, a man of honour and grace. His successor was the son of the King. He had a retinue. What need would he have of a half-blind archer? Or a spy? So I planned, worked, then found myself taken up by the archbishop.’
    ‘God watched over you.’
    ‘Most days I think that. I would not be Lucie’s husband were it not for His Grace.’ Owen shifted so that he might see Jasper’s face more clearly. The boy sat with legs bent, knees high, hands behind propping him up at an angle, his bony shoulders hunched. An age of angles and long limbs. ‘Which brings me to something that is weighing on my mind.’
    Jasper clenched his jaw, shook his head once so his straight flaxen locks fell across his eyes. ‘I know. You wish to send me away.’
    ‘For Lucie’s sake, Jasper, not mine. I would lief have you here. You are a fine apprentice, and she needs you in the shop. But she is thinking of the last time, when the pestilence took her son Martin. She believes it is the children who are in the most danger. And it does seem so. Even with all their care, the sisters of St