Read Online Brother Cadfael 13: The Rose Rent by Ellis Peters - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ellis Peters
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trampled ground. They had all refrained from treading too close, nothing had been disturbed since Niall went on his knees to turn the pallid face up to the light.
"Is that how you read it?" asked Anselm. "Are we to condemn him as a suicide? However we may pity?"
"What else can it be? Surely this involuntary love had so eaten into him that he could not bear another should take his place with the woman. Why else should he steal out by night and come here to this garden, why else should he hack at the roots of the tree? And from that it would be but a step, in his despair, to the unholy temptation to destroy himself with the roses. What could fix his image more terribly and for ever in her memory than such a death? For you know - you two do know - the measure of his desperation. And there lies the knife beside his hand."
It was not a dagger, but a good, long-hafted knife, sharp and thin, such as any practical man might carry on him for a dozen lawful purposes, from carving his meat at the table to scaring off footpads on ajourney, or the occasional wild boar in the forest.
"Beside it," said Cadfael shortly, "not in it."
They turned their eyes on him cautiously, even hopefully.
"You see how his hand is clenched into the soil," he went on slowly, "and there is no blood upon it, though the knife is bloodied to the hilt. Touch his hand - I think you'll find it is already stiffening as it lies, clutching the earth. He never held this knife. And if he had, would not the sheath be on his girdle? No man in his senses would carry such a knife about him unsheathed."
"A man not in his right senses might, however," said Radulfus ruefully. "He needed it, did he not, for what he has done to the rose-bush."
"What was done to the rose-bush," said Cadfael firmly, "was not done with that knife. Could not be! A man would have to saw away for half an hour or more, even with a sharp knife, at such a thick bole. That was done with a heavier weapon, meant for such work, a broom-hook or a hatchet. Moreover, you see the gash begins higher, where a single blow, or two at the most, should have severed the stem, but it swerves downwards into the thick of the bole, where dead wood has been cut away for years, and left this woody encrustation."
"I fear," said Brother Anselm wryly, "that Brother Eluric would hardly be expert with such a tool."
"And there was no second blow," said Cadfael, undeterred. "If there had been, the bush would be severed utterly. And the first blow, I think, the only blow - even that was deflected. Someone interrupted the act. Someone clutched at the arm that was swinging the hatchet, and sent the blade down into the thick of the bole. I think - I think - it stuck fast there, and the man who held it had not time to get both hands to the haft and pull it out. Why else should he draw his knife?"
"You are saying," said Radulfus intently, "that there were two men here in the night, not one? One who tried to destroy, and one who tried to prevent?"
"Yes, that is what I see here."
"And that the one who tried to protect the tree, who caught at the attacker's arm and caused his weapon to lodge fast - and who was struck down instead with the knife
"Is Brother Eluric. Yes. How else can it have been? Certainly he came here secretly in the night of his own will, but not to destroy, rather to take a last farewell of this wild dream of his, to look for one last time on the roses, and then never no more. But he came just in time to see another man here, one who had other thoughts, and for other motives, one who had come to destroy the rose-bush. Would Eluric endure to see that done? Surely he leaped to protect the tree, clutched at the arm wielding the hatchet, drove the blade down to stick fast in the bole. If there was a struggle, as the ground shows, I do not think it lasted long. Eluric was unarmed. The other, if he could not then make use of his hatchet, carried a knife. And used it."
There was a long silence, while they all stared
"Is that how you read it?" asked Anselm. "Are we to condemn him as a suicide? However we may pity?"
"What else can it be? Surely this involuntary love had so eaten into him that he could not bear another should take his place with the woman. Why else should he steal out by night and come here to this garden, why else should he hack at the roots of the tree? And from that it would be but a step, in his despair, to the unholy temptation to destroy himself with the roses. What could fix his image more terribly and for ever in her memory than such a death? For you know - you two do know - the measure of his desperation. And there lies the knife beside his hand."
It was not a dagger, but a good, long-hafted knife, sharp and thin, such as any practical man might carry on him for a dozen lawful purposes, from carving his meat at the table to scaring off footpads on ajourney, or the occasional wild boar in the forest.
"Beside it," said Cadfael shortly, "not in it."
They turned their eyes on him cautiously, even hopefully.
"You see how his hand is clenched into the soil," he went on slowly, "and there is no blood upon it, though the knife is bloodied to the hilt. Touch his hand - I think you'll find it is already stiffening as it lies, clutching the earth. He never held this knife. And if he had, would not the sheath be on his girdle? No man in his senses would carry such a knife about him unsheathed."
"A man not in his right senses might, however," said Radulfus ruefully. "He needed it, did he not, for what he has done to the rose-bush."
"What was done to the rose-bush," said Cadfael firmly, "was not done with that knife. Could not be! A man would have to saw away for half an hour or more, even with a sharp knife, at such a thick bole. That was done with a heavier weapon, meant for such work, a broom-hook or a hatchet. Moreover, you see the gash begins higher, where a single blow, or two at the most, should have severed the stem, but it swerves downwards into the thick of the bole, where dead wood has been cut away for years, and left this woody encrustation."
"I fear," said Brother Anselm wryly, "that Brother Eluric would hardly be expert with such a tool."
"And there was no second blow," said Cadfael, undeterred. "If there had been, the bush would be severed utterly. And the first blow, I think, the only blow - even that was deflected. Someone interrupted the act. Someone clutched at the arm that was swinging the hatchet, and sent the blade down into the thick of the bole. I think - I think - it stuck fast there, and the man who held it had not time to get both hands to the haft and pull it out. Why else should he draw his knife?"
"You are saying," said Radulfus intently, "that there were two men here in the night, not one? One who tried to destroy, and one who tried to prevent?"
"Yes, that is what I see here."
"And that the one who tried to protect the tree, who caught at the attacker's arm and caused his weapon to lodge fast - and who was struck down instead with the knife
"Is Brother Eluric. Yes. How else can it have been? Certainly he came here secretly in the night of his own will, but not to destroy, rather to take a last farewell of this wild dream of his, to look for one last time on the roses, and then never no more. But he came just in time to see another man here, one who had other thoughts, and for other motives, one who had come to destroy the rose-bush. Would Eluric endure to see that done? Surely he leaped to protect the tree, clutched at the arm wielding the hatchet, drove the blade down to stick fast in the bole. If there was a struggle, as the ground shows, I do not think it lasted long. Eluric was unarmed. The other, if he could not then make use of his hatchet, carried a knife. And used it."
There was a long silence, while they all stared
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