Brother Cadfael 12: The Raven in the Foregate by Ellis Peters Page A
Authors: Ellis Peters
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slipped and fallen, the ground there might have half-stunned him, but it would not have broken his head and fetched blood. I have told you all I can tell from this poor body," he said wearily. "Make what you can of it."
"Murder!" said Prior Robert, rigid with indignation and horror. "Murder is what I make of it. Father Abbot, what is now to be done?"
Radulfus brooded for some minutes over the indifferent corpse which had been Father Ailnoth, and never before so still and quiet, so tolerant of the views of others. Then he said, with measured regret: "I am afraid, Robert, we have no choice but to inform the lord sheriff's deputy, since Hugh Beringar himself is elsewhere about his own duties." And with his eyes still upon the livid face on the stone slab he said, with bleak wonder: "I knew he had not made himself loved. I had not realised that in so short a time he could make himself so hated."
Chapter Six
Young Alan Herbard, who was Hugh's deputy in his absence, came down hot-foot from the castle with the most experienced of his sergeants, William Warden, and two other officers in his train. Even if Herbard had not been well acquainted with the Foregate and its people, Will Warden certainly was, and went in no misapprehension concerning the degree of love the congregation of Holy Cross had for its new priest.
"There'll be very little mourning for him hereabouts," he said bluntly, viewing the dead man without emotion. "He made a thorough job of turning every soul in the parish against him. A poor end, though, for any man. A poor, cold end!"
They examined the head wound, noted the account rendered by every man who had taken part in the search, and listened to the careful opinions put forward by Brother Edmund and Brother Cadfael, and to everything Dame Diota had to say of her master's evening departure, and the anxious night she had spent worrying about his failure to return.
She had refused to depart, and waited all this time to repeat her story, which she did with a drained but steady composure, now that the matter and the mystery were out of her hands. Benet was beside her, attentive and solicitous, a very sombre Benet, with creased brows and hazel eyes clouded by something between anxiety on her account and sheer puzzlement on his own.
"If you'll give me leave," said the boy, as soon as the officers had withdrawn from the precinct to go in search of the provost of the Foregate, who knew his people as well as any man could, "I'll take my aunt back to the house now, and see her settled with a good fire. She needs to rest." And he added, appealing to Cadfael: "I won't stay long. I may be wanted here."
"Stay as long as is needful," said Cadfael readily. "I'll answer for you if there should be any questions. But what could you have to tell? I know you were in the church well before Matins began." And knew, moreover, where the boy had been later on, and probably not alone, but he said nothing about that. "Has anything been said about making provision for Mistress Hammet's future? This leaves her very solitary, but for you, and still almost a stranger here. But I'm sure Abbot Radulfus will see to it she's not left friendless."
"He came himself to speak to her," said Benet, a faint flush and gleam of his usual brightness appearing for a moment, in appreciation of such considerate usage. "He says she need not be troubled at all, for she came here in good faith to serve the church in her proper station, and the church will see to it that she is provided for. Dwell in the house and care for it, he said, until a new priest is preferred to the benefice, and then we'll see. But in no case shall she be cast away."
"Good! Then you and she can rest with easy minds. Terrible this may be, but it's no fault of yours or hers, and you should not brood on it." They were both looking at him then with still, shocked faces that expressed nothing of grief or reassurance, but only stunned acceptance. "Stay and sleep there, if you see fit," he
"Murder!" said Prior Robert, rigid with indignation and horror. "Murder is what I make of it. Father Abbot, what is now to be done?"
Radulfus brooded for some minutes over the indifferent corpse which had been Father Ailnoth, and never before so still and quiet, so tolerant of the views of others. Then he said, with measured regret: "I am afraid, Robert, we have no choice but to inform the lord sheriff's deputy, since Hugh Beringar himself is elsewhere about his own duties." And with his eyes still upon the livid face on the stone slab he said, with bleak wonder: "I knew he had not made himself loved. I had not realised that in so short a time he could make himself so hated."
Chapter Six
Young Alan Herbard, who was Hugh's deputy in his absence, came down hot-foot from the castle with the most experienced of his sergeants, William Warden, and two other officers in his train. Even if Herbard had not been well acquainted with the Foregate and its people, Will Warden certainly was, and went in no misapprehension concerning the degree of love the congregation of Holy Cross had for its new priest.
"There'll be very little mourning for him hereabouts," he said bluntly, viewing the dead man without emotion. "He made a thorough job of turning every soul in the parish against him. A poor end, though, for any man. A poor, cold end!"
They examined the head wound, noted the account rendered by every man who had taken part in the search, and listened to the careful opinions put forward by Brother Edmund and Brother Cadfael, and to everything Dame Diota had to say of her master's evening departure, and the anxious night she had spent worrying about his failure to return.
She had refused to depart, and waited all this time to repeat her story, which she did with a drained but steady composure, now that the matter and the mystery were out of her hands. Benet was beside her, attentive and solicitous, a very sombre Benet, with creased brows and hazel eyes clouded by something between anxiety on her account and sheer puzzlement on his own.
"If you'll give me leave," said the boy, as soon as the officers had withdrawn from the precinct to go in search of the provost of the Foregate, who knew his people as well as any man could, "I'll take my aunt back to the house now, and see her settled with a good fire. She needs to rest." And he added, appealing to Cadfael: "I won't stay long. I may be wanted here."
"Stay as long as is needful," said Cadfael readily. "I'll answer for you if there should be any questions. But what could you have to tell? I know you were in the church well before Matins began." And knew, moreover, where the boy had been later on, and probably not alone, but he said nothing about that. "Has anything been said about making provision for Mistress Hammet's future? This leaves her very solitary, but for you, and still almost a stranger here. But I'm sure Abbot Radulfus will see to it she's not left friendless."
"He came himself to speak to her," said Benet, a faint flush and gleam of his usual brightness appearing for a moment, in appreciation of such considerate usage. "He says she need not be troubled at all, for she came here in good faith to serve the church in her proper station, and the church will see to it that she is provided for. Dwell in the house and care for it, he said, until a new priest is preferred to the benefice, and then we'll see. But in no case shall she be cast away."
"Good! Then you and she can rest with easy minds. Terrible this may be, but it's no fault of yours or hers, and you should not brood on it." They were both looking at him then with still, shocked faces that expressed nothing of grief or reassurance, but only stunned acceptance. "Stay and sleep there, if you see fit," he
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