‘Nay, I ken that. I know well enough you was protecting Mr Aglionby’s packtrain.’

Something in the pit of Carey’s stomach gave a lurch of excitement. Now that made sense of a fifty-man raid at hay-making. Carefully he drank more of the sloe-coloured vinegar in his good silver goblet.

‘Ah,’ he said wisely. ‘And how did you find that out?’

‘It was one o’ the reivers we caught yesterday. He was in such a taking, yelling and shouting about what he’d lost by ye and how he hated ye, and the packtrain the heaviest to go into Carlisle for years and so on. So then I knew why ye were there, which was puzzling me; it was for the packtrain, to keep it fra Wattie Graham,’ Bell explained.

Carey stared into space, his mind working furiously. He was remembering the cardgame at the Mayor’s house. Suddenly he knew who had killed Jemmy Atkinson.

‘I supposed you haven’t got the reiver any more?’

‘Nay, we ransomed all of them back, the minute Skinabake’s man turned up wi’ the money.’

‘Do you know his name?’

‘Ay, it was Fire the Braes Armstrong.’

‘And where does he live?’

‘The Debateable Land, seeing he’s at the horn for murder and arson in two Marches.’

Carey came to a decision.

‘Mr Bell,’ he said. ‘I’ll be straight with you. I don’t want to take blackrent, which is against the law, but I’ll take my rightful Wardenry fee for protecting your cattle, which is two pounds.’

‘Ay,’ said Bell. ‘But I want yer protection in the future.’

‘You have that,’ Carey explained. ‘It’s one of the duties of the office of Deputy Warden to protect you from raiders.’ Dammit, thought Carey, really it’s the only one. ‘You shouldn’t have to pay me rent for that; the Queen’s supposed to do it.’ Not that she did, or not regularly. ‘You only pay me a fee for a particular raid.’

Bell was looking deeply suspicious.

‘Are ye tellin’ me to pay my blackrent to Lowther?’

‘No, Mr Bell, I’m telling you to give me two pounds sterling and call it quits. Keep the money. Buy weapons or steel bonnets for your family or even a new plough or whatever. Just give me information when it comes to you and turn out to fight for me when I call and that’s all the blackrent I want.’

Bell’s mouth was hanging open. Carey was glad neither Dodd nor Barnabus were there to tell him he was mad turning down good cash; he even felt a little mad and reckless doing it. But he was grateful to Bell for solving Atkinson’s murder for him and besides, if he himself took blackrent like Lowther, how could he stop anyone else from doing it?

Bell had a broad spreading grin of incredulity on his face.

‘Are ye tellin’ me ye willna set on anybody to raid me if I dinna pay ye off?’

‘Yes,’ said Carey, wondering if every Borderer would now think him soft, as well as Dodd, the garrison and Jock of the Peartree. ‘I want my Wardenry fee, though. I have to live too.’

‘Ay,’ said Bell, still grinning. ‘Ay, o’ course ye do. Ay.’

He took two handfuls of crowns and shillings from his purse and carefully counted them out. Then he spat on the palm of his hand and held it out to Carey.

‘Ah’ll come out for ye, Deputy,’ he said. ‘There’s ma hand, there’s ma heart.’

Carey spat on his own palm and grasped Bell’s firmly.

‘And mine, Mr Bell,’ he said. ‘Pass the word, if you will.’

‘Ay,’ said Bell, still grinning as he put away his purse and moved to the door quickly before Carey could change his mind. ‘Ay, I will. By God,’ he added, shaking his head and Carey heard him laugh as his hobnails clattered down the stairs.

***

Edward Aglionby, Mayor of Carlisle, was expecting a visit from the new Deputy Warden and was ready for it when, belatedly, it came. The Deputy arrived on horseback and seemed to be in a tearing hurry, but he invited the young man into his solar for wine and wafers and even asked him to dinner.

‘I’m sorry, Mr Aglionby, I’m bidden to my sister’s table and in fact I’m going to be late. But I must talk to you first.’

Edward Aglionby stood with his arms crossed, waiting.

‘You know, of course, that there was an attempt made on your packtrain by Wattie Graham...’

‘And Skinabake Armstrong. Yes, Sir Robert. I also know that it was you who prevented it, thereby saving me a great deal of gold and trouble.’

Aglionby waited for the new Deputy’s demand, but it seemed Carey wanted to shillyshally first, asking irrelevantly about Atkinson’s inquest.

‘Yes,’ he answered the Courtier. ‘The case does fall under City jurisdiction. In fact my lord Warden was quite willing for the Carlisle Coroner to hear the inquest, although my lord has empanelled the jury.’

Carey nodded. Given a very tight spot, with Lowther on the one hand badgering him to find Carey or his servant guilty and Philadelphia badgering him on every other hand to find someone else, Scrope would gratefully wriggle out.

‘Who is the Coroner?’ he asked.

Aglionby smiled. ‘I am.’

‘Excellent.’ Carey beamed back. ‘I have a favour to ask of you, Mr Aglionby, which I hope you will... at least consider.’

‘Mm,’ said the Mayor cautiously.

‘We have a multiplicity of suspects for murderer,’ said Carey. ‘Among them, though I think no longer the most suspected of them, is my servant Barnabus. Now I have no way of being his good lord here—I have no influence with the jury and would not dream of insulting you by attempting to influence you yourself—excepting if I can put my case against the man I think truly did the deed, directly in open Court.’

‘Are you a lawyer, Sir Robert?’

Carey coughed, not willing to lie directly. ‘I have some small experience of law and lawyers, though I never was a member of an Inn of Court. I would like to act as amicus curiae, a friend of the Court, in an unofficial capacity.’

‘Mmm.’

‘It’s the best way I can think of helping my unfortunate servant who was only accused as a way of attacking me. Obviously I can’t hire him a barrister since he’s accused of a capital crime.’

‘Hm. Amicus curiae. Is that all?’

Carey’s face was guileless, though in fact he was wondering how long Aglionby would take to decide and how furious Philadelphia would be when he was late.

‘Yes,’ he said.

Aglionby was very suspicious at such a cheap discharge of an obligation. There was no question that the Deputy Warden had saved him large sums of money. On the other hand, why look a gift horse in the mouth?