Read Online Brother Cadfael 02: One Corpse Too Many by Ellis Peters - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ellis Peters
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your brother is not here.'
'No,' said Aline, 'this is not he, but for all that he may - How can I be sure unless I see them all?' She put off the urging touch, but very gently. 'I've ventured this far, and how is it worse for me than for any of these others?' She looked round appealingly. 'Brother Cadfael, this is your charge now. You know I must ease my mind. Will you come with me?'
'Very willingly,' said Cadfael, and led the way without more words, for words were not going to dissuade her, and he thought her right not to be dissuaded. The two young men followed side by side, neither willing to give the other precedence. Aline looked down at every exposed face, wrung but resolute.
'He was twenty-four years old - not very like me, his hair was darker ... Oh, here are all too many no older than he!'
They had traversed more than half of the dolorous passage when suddenly she caught at Cadfael's arm, and froze where she stood. She made no outcry, she had breath only for a soft moan, audible as a word only to Cadfael, who was nearest. 'Giles!' she said again more strongly, and what colour she had drained from her face and left her almost translucent, staring down at a face once imperious, wilful and handsome. She sank to her knees, stooping to study the dead face close, and then she uttered the only cry she ever made over her brother, and that very brief and private, and swooped breast to breast with him, gathering the body into her arms. The mass of her hair slipped out of its coils and spilled gold over them both.
Brother Cadfael, who was experienced enough to let her alone until she seemed to need comfort for her grief instead of decent reticence, would have waited quietly, but he was hurriedly thrust aside, and Adam Courcelle fell on his knees beside her, and took her beneath the arms to lift her against his shoulder. The shock of discovery seemed to have shaken him fully as deeply as it had Aline, his face was stricken and dismayed, his voice an appalled stammer.
'Madam! - Aline - Dear God, is this indeed your brother? If I'd known ... if I'd known, I'd have saved him for you... Whatever the cost, I would have delivered him ... God forgive me!'
She lifted a tearless face from the curtain of her yellow hair, and looked at him with wonder and compunction, seeing him so shattered. 'Oh, hush! How can this be any fault of yours? You could not know. You did only what you were ordered to do. And how could you have saved one, and let the rest die?'
'Then truly this is your brother?'
'Yes,' she said, gazing down at the dead youth with a face now drained even of shock and grief. 'This is Giles.' Now she knew the worst, and now she had only to do what was needful, what fell to her for want of father and brothers. She crouched motionless in Courcelle's arm, earnestly regarding the dead face. Cadfael, watching, was glad he had managed to mould some form back into features once handsome, but in death fallen into a total collapse of terror. At least she was not viewing that hardly human disintegration.
Presently she heaved a short, sharp sigh, and made to rise, and Hugh Beringar, who had shown admirably judicious restraint throughout, reached a hand to her on the other side, and lifted her to her feet. She was mistress of herself as perhaps she had never been before, never having had to meet such a test until now. What was required of her she could and would do.
'Brother Cadfael, I do thank you for all you have done, not only for Giles and me, but for all these. Now, if you permit, I will take my brother's burial into my charge, as is only fitting.'
Close and anxious at her shoulder, still deeply shaken, Courcelle asked: 'Where would you have him conveyed? My men shall carry him there for you, and be at your orders as long as you need them. I wish I might attend you myself, but I must not leave my guard.'
'You are very kind,' she said, quite composed now. 'My mother's family has a tomb at St Alkmund's church, here in the town.
'No,' said Aline, 'this is not he, but for all that he may - How can I be sure unless I see them all?' She put off the urging touch, but very gently. 'I've ventured this far, and how is it worse for me than for any of these others?' She looked round appealingly. 'Brother Cadfael, this is your charge now. You know I must ease my mind. Will you come with me?'
'Very willingly,' said Cadfael, and led the way without more words, for words were not going to dissuade her, and he thought her right not to be dissuaded. The two young men followed side by side, neither willing to give the other precedence. Aline looked down at every exposed face, wrung but resolute.
'He was twenty-four years old - not very like me, his hair was darker ... Oh, here are all too many no older than he!'
They had traversed more than half of the dolorous passage when suddenly she caught at Cadfael's arm, and froze where she stood. She made no outcry, she had breath only for a soft moan, audible as a word only to Cadfael, who was nearest. 'Giles!' she said again more strongly, and what colour she had drained from her face and left her almost translucent, staring down at a face once imperious, wilful and handsome. She sank to her knees, stooping to study the dead face close, and then she uttered the only cry she ever made over her brother, and that very brief and private, and swooped breast to breast with him, gathering the body into her arms. The mass of her hair slipped out of its coils and spilled gold over them both.
Brother Cadfael, who was experienced enough to let her alone until she seemed to need comfort for her grief instead of decent reticence, would have waited quietly, but he was hurriedly thrust aside, and Adam Courcelle fell on his knees beside her, and took her beneath the arms to lift her against his shoulder. The shock of discovery seemed to have shaken him fully as deeply as it had Aline, his face was stricken and dismayed, his voice an appalled stammer.
'Madam! - Aline - Dear God, is this indeed your brother? If I'd known ... if I'd known, I'd have saved him for you... Whatever the cost, I would have delivered him ... God forgive me!'
She lifted a tearless face from the curtain of her yellow hair, and looked at him with wonder and compunction, seeing him so shattered. 'Oh, hush! How can this be any fault of yours? You could not know. You did only what you were ordered to do. And how could you have saved one, and let the rest die?'
'Then truly this is your brother?'
'Yes,' she said, gazing down at the dead youth with a face now drained even of shock and grief. 'This is Giles.' Now she knew the worst, and now she had only to do what was needful, what fell to her for want of father and brothers. She crouched motionless in Courcelle's arm, earnestly regarding the dead face. Cadfael, watching, was glad he had managed to mould some form back into features once handsome, but in death fallen into a total collapse of terror. At least she was not viewing that hardly human disintegration.
Presently she heaved a short, sharp sigh, and made to rise, and Hugh Beringar, who had shown admirably judicious restraint throughout, reached a hand to her on the other side, and lifted her to her feet. She was mistress of herself as perhaps she had never been before, never having had to meet such a test until now. What was required of her she could and would do.
'Brother Cadfael, I do thank you for all you have done, not only for Giles and me, but for all these. Now, if you permit, I will take my brother's burial into my charge, as is only fitting.'
Close and anxious at her shoulder, still deeply shaken, Courcelle asked: 'Where would you have him conveyed? My men shall carry him there for you, and be at your orders as long as you need them. I wish I might attend you myself, but I must not leave my guard.'
'You are very kind,' she said, quite composed now. 'My mother's family has a tomb at St Alkmund's church, here in the town.
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