Read Online The Chatter of the Maidens by Alys Clare - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alys Clare
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God calls us all, but sets each of us on a different path.
‘Brother Saul,’ she said, meeting the alert eyes of her secret favourite among the lay brothers, ‘your summary?’
Brother Saul paused, brows together in a frown of concentration as he gathered his thoughts. Then, with admirable brevity, he said, ‘I would judge that the dead man was an habitual and well-travelled pilgrim. The souvenir badges suggest extensive journeys, and both the scrip and the boots show wear. He may have come from far away, he travelled alone, and he liked to keep himself to himself.’ Saul paused again. ‘We know that he sat here, in this very shelter, for the evening meal, and we surmise that he went for a walk before settling for the night, where he encountered his killer.’
‘He was deliberately killed?’ Helewise asked. ‘It cannot have been an accidental death?’
Again, Saul seemed to think carefully about his reply. Then: ‘Had the weapon been a stone, then it might just have been possible that he had slipped and bashed his skull against the stone as he fell. But the thick knot at the top of his staff shows blood and hair, and the hair seems to look very like that of the dead man.’
‘And it is surely beyond the bounds of possibility for a man to kill himself by falling on his own staff,’ Helewise concluded for him.
He nodded. ‘Yes. And, Abbess, there are the wounds to the forehead to consider. A fall could scarcely inflict damage to both the back and the front of the head simultaneously.’
‘Indeed not. Thank you, Brother Saul.’
It was her turn to think. Beside her, Brother Firmin was fretting, his hands busy with the end of the cord that he wore knotted around his waist. He was muttering under his breath, and Helewise wished he would stop. Saul, by contrast, sat still as a rock, eyes focused on some spot in the middle distance.
Presently Helewise said, ‘Are any other pilgrims absent this morning? Who were here yesterday, I mean?’
‘All are present, Abbess,’ Brother Firmin said. ‘No more new arrivals, for which we must thank the good Lord, since it would only add to our burden to have newcomers in our midst, making everything more complicated.’
‘Quite.’ Helewise suddenly turned to Saul; something in Brother Firmin’s little outburst had reminded her of a question she should have asked already. ‘Brother Saul, was there anything about the position of the body to suggest whether the man had been coming to the shrine or going away from it?’
Saul must have been thinking the same thing, for instantly he said, ‘Going away, I would judge, Abbess. I should say that he was walking along the path when somebody crept up on him from behind – perhaps they were tiptoeing in the grass, so as to be quite silent – and struck him from behind.’
‘With his own staff,’ she mused.
‘Aye.’
She met Saul’s eyes. ‘Did they wrest it from him to strike him, then?’
Saul shook his head. ‘I cannot imagine that was how it was, Abbess. Taking the staff from the dead man would have alerted him to the fact that someone was attacking him, and surely, in that case, the heaviest blows would have fallen on the front of his head. They’d have been face to face, wouldn’t they?’
‘Yes, they would.’ She was thinking hard. ‘Then, Brother Saul, can it be that, setting out merely for a stroll, he didn’t take his staff, but left it here, by his bedroll? And that someone else crept in to fetch it, then followed the poor man and killed him?’
Brother Saul began to speak, but Brother Firmin overrode him. ‘Abbess Helewise, you speak of the Holy Vale as if it were a den of thieves and cut-throats!’ he protested. ‘Killers stealing staffs and stalking each other? Caving in each other’s heads on the path? And now some girl has gone missing, they say? Dear Lord above, but all this cannot be true!’
For a tiny instant, Helewise caught a flash of sympathy in Brother Saul’s eyes as he looked
‘Brother Saul,’ she said, meeting the alert eyes of her secret favourite among the lay brothers, ‘your summary?’
Brother Saul paused, brows together in a frown of concentration as he gathered his thoughts. Then, with admirable brevity, he said, ‘I would judge that the dead man was an habitual and well-travelled pilgrim. The souvenir badges suggest extensive journeys, and both the scrip and the boots show wear. He may have come from far away, he travelled alone, and he liked to keep himself to himself.’ Saul paused again. ‘We know that he sat here, in this very shelter, for the evening meal, and we surmise that he went for a walk before settling for the night, where he encountered his killer.’
‘He was deliberately killed?’ Helewise asked. ‘It cannot have been an accidental death?’
Again, Saul seemed to think carefully about his reply. Then: ‘Had the weapon been a stone, then it might just have been possible that he had slipped and bashed his skull against the stone as he fell. But the thick knot at the top of his staff shows blood and hair, and the hair seems to look very like that of the dead man.’
‘And it is surely beyond the bounds of possibility for a man to kill himself by falling on his own staff,’ Helewise concluded for him.
He nodded. ‘Yes. And, Abbess, there are the wounds to the forehead to consider. A fall could scarcely inflict damage to both the back and the front of the head simultaneously.’
‘Indeed not. Thank you, Brother Saul.’
It was her turn to think. Beside her, Brother Firmin was fretting, his hands busy with the end of the cord that he wore knotted around his waist. He was muttering under his breath, and Helewise wished he would stop. Saul, by contrast, sat still as a rock, eyes focused on some spot in the middle distance.
Presently Helewise said, ‘Are any other pilgrims absent this morning? Who were here yesterday, I mean?’
‘All are present, Abbess,’ Brother Firmin said. ‘No more new arrivals, for which we must thank the good Lord, since it would only add to our burden to have newcomers in our midst, making everything more complicated.’
‘Quite.’ Helewise suddenly turned to Saul; something in Brother Firmin’s little outburst had reminded her of a question she should have asked already. ‘Brother Saul, was there anything about the position of the body to suggest whether the man had been coming to the shrine or going away from it?’
Saul must have been thinking the same thing, for instantly he said, ‘Going away, I would judge, Abbess. I should say that he was walking along the path when somebody crept up on him from behind – perhaps they were tiptoeing in the grass, so as to be quite silent – and struck him from behind.’
‘With his own staff,’ she mused.
‘Aye.’
She met Saul’s eyes. ‘Did they wrest it from him to strike him, then?’
Saul shook his head. ‘I cannot imagine that was how it was, Abbess. Taking the staff from the dead man would have alerted him to the fact that someone was attacking him, and surely, in that case, the heaviest blows would have fallen on the front of his head. They’d have been face to face, wouldn’t they?’
‘Yes, they would.’ She was thinking hard. ‘Then, Brother Saul, can it be that, setting out merely for a stroll, he didn’t take his staff, but left it here, by his bedroll? And that someone else crept in to fetch it, then followed the poor man and killed him?’
Brother Saul began to speak, but Brother Firmin overrode him. ‘Abbess Helewise, you speak of the Holy Vale as if it were a den of thieves and cut-throats!’ he protested. ‘Killers stealing staffs and stalking each other? Caving in each other’s heads on the path? And now some girl has gone missing, they say? Dear Lord above, but all this cannot be true!’
For a tiny instant, Helewise caught a flash of sympathy in Brother Saul’s eyes as he looked
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