Read Online Brother Cadfael 07: The Sanctuary Sparrow by Ellis Peters - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ellis Peters
Ads: Link
countenance gradually cleared and brightened into timid hope. It was the first truly significant indication of how far he should be believed.
'I never thought of that. They said murdered. A murdered man can't accuse or deliver. If I'd known then he was well alive I would have told the whole truth. What must I do now? It will look bad to have to own I lied.'
'What you should do for the best,' Cadfael said after some thought, 'is let me take this word myself to the lord abbot, not as my discovery - for the evidence is gone with a puff of wind - but as your confession. And if Hugh Beringar comes tonight, as I hope and hear he may, then you may tell the tale over again to him in full, yourself. Whatever follows then, you may rest out your days of grace here with a clear conscience and truth will speak on your side.'
Hugh Beringar of Maesbury, deputy sheriff of the shire, reached the abbey for Vespers, after a long conference with the sergeant concerning the lost treasury. In search of it, every yard of ground between the goldsmith's house and the bushes from which Liliwin had been flushed at midnight had been scoured without result. Every voice in the town declared confidently that the jongleur was the guilty man, and had successfully hidden his plunder before he was sighted and pursued.
'But you, I think,' said Beringar, walking back towards the gatehouse with Cadfael beside him and twitching a thin dark eyebrow at his friend, 'do not agree. And not wholly because this enforced guest of yours is young and hungry and in need of protection. What is it convinces you? For I do believe you are convinced he's wronged.'
'You've heard his story,' said Cadfael. 'But you did not see his face when I put it into his head that the goldsmith may get back his memory of the night in full, and be able to put a name or a face to his assailant. He took that hope to him like a blessed promise. The guilty man would hardly do so.'
Hugh considered that gravely and nodded agreement. 'But the fellow is a player, and has learned hard to keep command of his face in all circumstances. No blame to him, he has no other armour. To appear innocent of all harm must now be his whole endeavour.'
'And you think I am easily fooled,' said Cadfael dryly.
'Far from it. Yet it is well to remember and admit the possibility.' And that was also true, and Hugh's dark smile, slanted along his shoulder, did nothing to blunt the point. 'Though I grant it would be nothing new for you to be the only creature who holds against the grain, and makes his wager good.'
'Not the only one,' said Cadfael almost absently, with Rannilt's wan, elfin face before his mind's eye. 'There's one other more certain than I.' They had reached the arch of the gatehouse, the broad highway of the Foregate crossed beyond, and the evening was just greening and dimming towards twilight. 'You say you found the place where the lad bedded down for the night? Shall we take a look there together?'
They passed through the arch, an odd pair to move so congenially side by side, the monk squat and square and sturdy, rolling in his gait like a seaman, and well launched into his sixtieth year, the sheriff's deputy more than thirty year younger and half a head taller, but still a small man, of graceful, nimble movements and darkly saturnine features. Cadfael had seen this young man win his appointment fairly, and a wife to go with it, and had witnessed the christening of their first son only a few months ago. They understood each other better than most men ever do, but they could still take opposing sides in a matter of the king's justice.
They turned towards the bridge that led into the town, but turned aside again on the right, a little way short of the riverside, into the belt of trees that fringed the road. Beyond, towards the evening gleam of the Severn, the ground declined to the lush level of the main abbey gardens, along the meadows called the Gaye. They could see the green, clear light through the
'I never thought of that. They said murdered. A murdered man can't accuse or deliver. If I'd known then he was well alive I would have told the whole truth. What must I do now? It will look bad to have to own I lied.'
'What you should do for the best,' Cadfael said after some thought, 'is let me take this word myself to the lord abbot, not as my discovery - for the evidence is gone with a puff of wind - but as your confession. And if Hugh Beringar comes tonight, as I hope and hear he may, then you may tell the tale over again to him in full, yourself. Whatever follows then, you may rest out your days of grace here with a clear conscience and truth will speak on your side.'
Hugh Beringar of Maesbury, deputy sheriff of the shire, reached the abbey for Vespers, after a long conference with the sergeant concerning the lost treasury. In search of it, every yard of ground between the goldsmith's house and the bushes from which Liliwin had been flushed at midnight had been scoured without result. Every voice in the town declared confidently that the jongleur was the guilty man, and had successfully hidden his plunder before he was sighted and pursued.
'But you, I think,' said Beringar, walking back towards the gatehouse with Cadfael beside him and twitching a thin dark eyebrow at his friend, 'do not agree. And not wholly because this enforced guest of yours is young and hungry and in need of protection. What is it convinces you? For I do believe you are convinced he's wronged.'
'You've heard his story,' said Cadfael. 'But you did not see his face when I put it into his head that the goldsmith may get back his memory of the night in full, and be able to put a name or a face to his assailant. He took that hope to him like a blessed promise. The guilty man would hardly do so.'
Hugh considered that gravely and nodded agreement. 'But the fellow is a player, and has learned hard to keep command of his face in all circumstances. No blame to him, he has no other armour. To appear innocent of all harm must now be his whole endeavour.'
'And you think I am easily fooled,' said Cadfael dryly.
'Far from it. Yet it is well to remember and admit the possibility.' And that was also true, and Hugh's dark smile, slanted along his shoulder, did nothing to blunt the point. 'Though I grant it would be nothing new for you to be the only creature who holds against the grain, and makes his wager good.'
'Not the only one,' said Cadfael almost absently, with Rannilt's wan, elfin face before his mind's eye. 'There's one other more certain than I.' They had reached the arch of the gatehouse, the broad highway of the Foregate crossed beyond, and the evening was just greening and dimming towards twilight. 'You say you found the place where the lad bedded down for the night? Shall we take a look there together?'
They passed through the arch, an odd pair to move so congenially side by side, the monk squat and square and sturdy, rolling in his gait like a seaman, and well launched into his sixtieth year, the sheriff's deputy more than thirty year younger and half a head taller, but still a small man, of graceful, nimble movements and darkly saturnine features. Cadfael had seen this young man win his appointment fairly, and a wife to go with it, and had witnessed the christening of their first son only a few months ago. They understood each other better than most men ever do, but they could still take opposing sides in a matter of the king's justice.
They turned towards the bridge that led into the town, but turned aside again on the right, a little way short of the riverside, into the belt of trees that fringed the road. Beyond, towards the evening gleam of the Severn, the ground declined to the lush level of the main abbey gardens, along the meadows called the Gaye. They could see the green, clear light through the
Similar Books
