Read Online Brother Cadfael 15: The Confession of Brother Haluin by Ellis Peters - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ellis Peters
Ads: Link
use against me. I have thought of them, I think of them still, but still I am bound. Bound by vows I will not, dare not break. Though my abbot judge me rebellious and disobedient, though my abbey cast me out, that I must bear. But to take back what I have pledged to Bertrade. that I will not bear."
The flush of blood mantling in his pale cheeks became him, warmed away the faded look of emaciation from illness, and even stripped some years from him. In stillness he stood upright, stretching his bent back upward between the braced crutches. No persuasion was going to move him. As well accept it.
"But you, Cadfael," he said, gripping the wrist he held, "you have made no such vow, you are not bound. No need for you to go further, you have done all that was expected of you. Go back now, and speak for me to the lord abbot."
"Son," said Cadfael, between sympathy and exasperation, "I am fettered as fast as you, and you should know it. My orders are to go with you in case you founder, and to take care of you if you do. You are on your own business, I am on the abbot's. If I cannot take you back with me I cannot go back."
"But your work," protested Haluin, dismayed but unwavering. "Mine can well wait, but you'll be missed. How will they manage without you for so long?"
"As best they can. There's no man living who cannot be done without," said Cadfael sturdily, "and just as well, since there's a term to life for every man. No, say no more. If your mind's made up, so is mine. Where you go, I go. And since we have barely an hour of daylight left to us, and I fancy you have no wish to seek a bed here in Hales, we had better move gently on, and look for a shelter along the way."
Adelais de Clary rose in the morning and went to Mass, as was her regular habit. She was meticulous in her religious observances and in almsgiving, keeping up the old custom of her husband's household. And if her charity seemed sometimes a little cold and distant, at least it was constant and reliable. Whenever the parish priest had a special case in need of relief, he brought it to her for remedy.
He walked with her to the gate after the office, dutiful in attendance. "I had two Benedictines come visiting yesterday, " he said as she was drawing her cloak about her against a freshening March wind. "Two brothers from Shrewsbury."
"Indeed!" said Adelais. "What did they want with you?"
"The one of them was crippled, and went on crutches. He said he was once in your service, before he took the cowl. He remembered Father Wulfnoth. I thought they would have come to pay their respects to you. Did they not?"
She did not answer that, but only observed idly, gazing into distance as though only half her mind was on what was said, "I remember, I did have a clerk once who entered the monastery at Shrewsbury. What was his business here at the church?"
"He said he had been spared by death, and was about making up all his accounts, to be better prepared. I found them beside the tomb of your lord's father. They were in some error that a woman of your house was buried there, eighteen years ago. The lame one had it in mind to spend a night's vigil there in prayers for her."
"A strange mistake," said Adelais with the same tolerant disinterest. "No doubt you undeceived him?"
"I told him it was not so. I was not here then, of course, but I knew from Father Wulfnoth that the tomb had not been opened for many years, and what the young brother supposed could not be true. I told him that all of your house now are buried at Elford, where the head of the manor lies."
"A long, hard journey that would be, for a lame man afoot," said Adelais with easy sympathy. "I hope he did not intend to continue his travels so far?"
"I think, madam, he did. For they declined to rest and eat with me, and sleep the night over, but set off again at once. 'There I shall find her,' the young one said. Yes, I am sure they will have turned eastward when they reached the highroad. A long, hard journey,
The flush of blood mantling in his pale cheeks became him, warmed away the faded look of emaciation from illness, and even stripped some years from him. In stillness he stood upright, stretching his bent back upward between the braced crutches. No persuasion was going to move him. As well accept it.
"But you, Cadfael," he said, gripping the wrist he held, "you have made no such vow, you are not bound. No need for you to go further, you have done all that was expected of you. Go back now, and speak for me to the lord abbot."
"Son," said Cadfael, between sympathy and exasperation, "I am fettered as fast as you, and you should know it. My orders are to go with you in case you founder, and to take care of you if you do. You are on your own business, I am on the abbot's. If I cannot take you back with me I cannot go back."
"But your work," protested Haluin, dismayed but unwavering. "Mine can well wait, but you'll be missed. How will they manage without you for so long?"
"As best they can. There's no man living who cannot be done without," said Cadfael sturdily, "and just as well, since there's a term to life for every man. No, say no more. If your mind's made up, so is mine. Where you go, I go. And since we have barely an hour of daylight left to us, and I fancy you have no wish to seek a bed here in Hales, we had better move gently on, and look for a shelter along the way."
Adelais de Clary rose in the morning and went to Mass, as was her regular habit. She was meticulous in her religious observances and in almsgiving, keeping up the old custom of her husband's household. And if her charity seemed sometimes a little cold and distant, at least it was constant and reliable. Whenever the parish priest had a special case in need of relief, he brought it to her for remedy.
He walked with her to the gate after the office, dutiful in attendance. "I had two Benedictines come visiting yesterday, " he said as she was drawing her cloak about her against a freshening March wind. "Two brothers from Shrewsbury."
"Indeed!" said Adelais. "What did they want with you?"
"The one of them was crippled, and went on crutches. He said he was once in your service, before he took the cowl. He remembered Father Wulfnoth. I thought they would have come to pay their respects to you. Did they not?"
She did not answer that, but only observed idly, gazing into distance as though only half her mind was on what was said, "I remember, I did have a clerk once who entered the monastery at Shrewsbury. What was his business here at the church?"
"He said he had been spared by death, and was about making up all his accounts, to be better prepared. I found them beside the tomb of your lord's father. They were in some error that a woman of your house was buried there, eighteen years ago. The lame one had it in mind to spend a night's vigil there in prayers for her."
"A strange mistake," said Adelais with the same tolerant disinterest. "No doubt you undeceived him?"
"I told him it was not so. I was not here then, of course, but I knew from Father Wulfnoth that the tomb had not been opened for many years, and what the young brother supposed could not be true. I told him that all of your house now are buried at Elford, where the head of the manor lies."
"A long, hard journey that would be, for a lame man afoot," said Adelais with easy sympathy. "I hope he did not intend to continue his travels so far?"
"I think, madam, he did. For they declined to rest and eat with me, and sleep the night over, but set off again at once. 'There I shall find her,' the young one said. Yes, I am sure they will have turned eastward when they reached the highroad. A long, hard journey,
Similar Books
