The Apothecary Rose Read Free

to save him. A murderer the pilgrim thought he'd killed. Was that why he had been so certain Nicholas Wilton was dead? He had tried to kill him ? Gentle Mary and all the saints, no wonder Nicholas took alarm. But as Wulfstan kept watch over the suffering pilgrim, he convinced himself that it was all fever dreams. He could not imagine the gentle pilgrim attacking Nicholas Wilton.
    Wulfstan watched in the smoky darkness. His heart sank as the pilgrim's faint stretched on and on. His breathing was shallow, with now and then an explos ive gasp, as if he could not get enough air. Wulfstan propped him up higher and prayed. Henry returned from Lauds and knelt with him.
    But for all their care, the pilgrim's shallow breathing ceased at dawn.
    Heartsick, Wulfstan retired to the chapel to pray for his friend's soul.
    Henry came to Wulfstan as he nodded over his prayers. Archdeacon Anselm's Summoner, Potter Digby, wished to speak with him.
    Wulfstan could not imagine what Digby might want with him. It was a Summoner's dreadful duty to investigate rumours of sinners who'd broken dioc esan law, and to summon those he judged guilty to the Archbishop's consistory court to be fined. For this he earned a commission. And for this Digby was disliked among the townspeople, who knew he waited to catch them in marital infidelities, marriage being a sacrament and infidelities his most lucrative charges. The lay clergy seldom had much money to pay for their sins. Many said it was the Summoner's unholy diligence that kept the stonemasons and glaziers busy on the cathedral. Wulfstan thought it a pity that the beautiful minster should be linked to such greed. In truth, he disliked Potter Digby with a sinful energy. As Wulfstan followed Henry to the cloister, he wondered what unpleasantness brought the man to him.
    Potter Digby, it turned out, was on private business. He'd found Nicholas Wilton in a faint near the abbey gate the night before and hailed a passing cart to carry him home. Wilton was in such a state he did not recognise his own wife. Digby thought Mistress Wilton would appreciate Brother Wulfstan's presence.
    'Nicholas? How strange.' Wulfstan thought back on Nicholas's abrupt departure. 'He did behave oddly last night. But you must forgive me. I have been up all night. I lost a patient and friend. I cannot come. I would be no good to them.'
    'Wilton is bad. His wife is frightened.' Digby shrug ged. 'But perhaps Master Saurian -'
    'Saurian? He'll be no comfort to Mistress Wilton.' Wulfstan wavered. Though trembling with fatigue and a long fast, he could not abandon gentle Lucie Wilton to the cold Master Saurian.
    'Then whom do you suggest, Brother Wulfstan?'
    The Infirmarian shrugged. 'I will ask my Abbot's permission.'
    Once more Wulfstan braved the snow, his old bones chilled and aching. It did not matter. He could not leave Lucie Wilton alone at such a time.
    He need not have worried. Bess Merchet, proprietress of the York Tavern, around the corner from Wilton's apothecary, met him at the kitchen door. Wulfstan was pleased to see her competent bulk in the doorway. She was a sensible woman, regardless of the brandywine on her breath, and a good friend to Lucie.
    'She'll be that pleased to see you, Brother Wulfstan.'
     
    Bess hustled him in and set a cup of something hot in his hands. 'Drink that up and catch your breath. I'll see how things stand up above.' She disappeared up the stairs.
    Wulfstan sniffed at the mixture of brandywine and herbs, then decided it would do him a world of good. It soon settled his heart back in its caging and dulled the pain of loss.
    Upstairs, one look at Nicholas told Wulfstan that he might soon suffer the loss of another friend. 'Merciful Mother, what has happened to you?' Wulfstan knelt beside Nicholas's bed, taking the man's hands, which lay limp upon the covers, and trying to rub warmth into them. Nicholas stared ahead, moving his lips but making no sound.
    'He has been like this all night.' Lucie sat on