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I was proud of the boy for showing the courage to say it.
“Little Mary last week, sir,” Brand said, then swallowed hard. “Tilly-a-Wilds before that. And I heard Bucktooth Jimmy hasn’t been seen in a fortnight.”
Tuck said, “Bucktooth Jimmy? Rosco’s friend? He hasn’t stayed at the almshouse for years now.”
“Aye, sir. I’m just saying what I know.”
Tuck patted him on the arm, squeezing lightly. “I know, son. Apologies. Thank you for your candor.” He paused. Then, “What about little Gracie?”
Brand blushed. “Oh, she’s still here. Sleeping like an angel in summer, I imagine.”
I smiled. Little Brand had eyes—well, eye—for her, and it warmed my heart to see, despite the awfulness of everything I’d just heard.
“Be a good lad and fetch her for me, son,” Tuck said, and with a firm nod the boy went padding off.
Tuck stood to his full height. “Something is amiss here.”
“I can tell,” I muttered.
His voice lowered. “A girl or boy goes missing from the almshouse every once in a while. Sad but true. Three in a single fortnight? Fucking hell, Alan.”
I rubbed the stubble on my chin, opening my mouth—
A loud rap at the front door of the almshouse in the other room cut me off before I could speak.
“Nottingham nightwatch!” yelled a stern voice. “Open the door on the Sheriff’s orders!”
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. “We’ve got trouble.”
Tuck’s eyes widened, darting over my shoulder toward the door, and then over his toward the hallway where Brand had gone running. Torn between two options.
“We can’t just bring Gracie alone,” he said, coming to a decision. “It’s not enough—not after what we’ve just learned.”
“Then we do what Robin’s wanted all along, dear chaplain.”
“And how do we—”
I tapped the lute on my back. “Trust me.”
He let out a sigh.
Thwack—thwack—
The rapping was louder this time, more incessant and aggravated. “I said open this door!”
“Not enough room in the carriages,” Tuck said quickly.
“We aren’t bringing the tub-wagon back, which gives us more space. We’ll take one group and hide the rest to come back for them, if we have to.”
Tuck chewed the inside of his cheek. Then he slapped my shoulder hard. “Work your magic, minstrel. I’m counting on you.”
I nodded firmly, grabbing his forearm in a show of camaraderie. We paused and locked eyes. “I won’t let you down.”
His kind face hardened with lines. “It’s not me I’m worried about, Alan. It’s the children. Soldiers won’t attack a man of the cloth in a place protected by the governance of the Church. If they do . . . they’ll have Discipline and Atonement to speak with.”
I smirked and nodded, then pivoted to moved past him down the hall—
And his iron grip stopped me, twisting me around. He held a small crumpled piece of hemp in his hand. “Show this to Grace so she trusts you.”
