Read Online Abbot's Passion by Stephen Wheeler - Free Book Online Page B

who helped him escape?’
    ‘And the answers?’
    She sniffed. ‘Not saying.’
    ‘It’s your duty.’
    ‘Duty!’
    ‘I could have you whipped.’
    ‘You could try.’
    ‘Mother Han!’
    She flapped a dismissive hand. ‘Ask your ’pothicky friend. He was there.’
    I stepped back, and not just because of the foulness of her breath. ‘You mean Joseph?’
    For the second time that day I was stunned to hear Joseph’s name being mentioned.
    ‘Aye, that one. The clever Jew.’ She grinned at my reaction. ‘Thought that would surprise ya. Ask him, He knows more than he tells you.’
    ‘How do you know that?’
    ‘Hear no evil, see no evil, that’s my motto.’
    She left me still being followed by the little girl who had finished her half-trencher.
    ‘But I’ll tell you one thing for nought,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘That pole what kilt the French dwarf, it come from the side of one o’ them upturned stalls. And there’s two sides to every stall like there is to every tale - teeheehee!’
     
    Two sides to every stall? What did she mean by that? I couldn’t think for the minute, I was still too stunned by the mention of Joseph’s name. The bell was ringing in the abbey again calling us to prayer but I ignored it as I hurried back up the hill again to Joseph’s shop. I hardly noticed the stick lying across the entrance indicating that the shop was closed for business, and stepped smartly over it. Inside there was no sign of Joseph but his assistant, Chrétien, was weighing some powder on a set of scales as I blustered in.
    I have to admit that I have never liked this young man although I would be at a loss to explain exactly why. Really I suppose I should be grateful to him. Two years earlier when I was attacked in the forest by the evil Geoffrey de Saye, some mysterious rescuer had stepped in saved my life. My cloak had been pulled over my head so I never saw who my saviour was, but the unspoken implication was that it was Chrétien. Yet to look at the lad it was impossible to believe. Geoffrey de Saye was a knight, a warrior who had fought alongside both King Henry and King Richard and was as powerful a soldier as ever lived. Surely this slight youth would not have had the strength to defeat such a man? I suppose I was ashamed to think I might owe him my life so I never thanked him and he never admitted it. Maybe it was this that irritated me so much about him, as though saving my life was so incidental to him that it was hardly worth mentioning - plus the infuriatingly superior smile he always wore and indeed was wearing now.
    ‘Where is your master?’ I asked him curtly.
    ‘Joseph is not here.’
    ‘I can see that. I asked you where he was. And please don’t call him “Joseph”. He’s your employer not your friend.’
    The smile merely broadened. ‘What should I call him?’
    ‘Master Joseph will do.’
    ‘He doesn’t like being called master.’
    ‘I don’t care what he likes or what you call him when I’m not here. When referring to him in my presence you will call him Master.’
    He shrugged. ‘As you wish.’
    I held my jaw that had started throbbing again. ‘When will he be back?’
    ‘I really couldn’t say.’
    ‘Couldn’t? Or won’t?’ I flapped a dismissive hand. ‘Never mind.’ I looked about me. ‘Has anybody else been here today?’
    ‘Other than customers?’
    ‘Yes, other than customers.’
    ‘Yourself?’
    I could see I was not going to get a sensible answer. I wanted to hear that Hamo had been here, rescued by Joseph and then spirited away which was what I suspected from my conversation with Mother Han. I was probably wasting my time asking. Joseph would have been careful to hide any evidence, and what he didn’t clear away himself I was sure Chrétien would have. But I needed to stamp my authority on this insolent servant.
    ‘I’m going to look around now. Please don’t try to stop me.’
    He smiled again. ‘I wouldn’t dream of trying,