of me to all his brethren.
It was almost midday before I returned to the little house. I knew someone was inside, for the leather strap that I had wound around the latch to hold it firmly closed was hanging loosely from a nail on the door post. Hoping it was Sibert, I went in.
Sibert lay fast asleep on the straw mattress, mouth open, snoring rhythmically. I found myself smiling broadly; it was such a relief to see him. I burned to ask him if Morcar was all right, but he needed to sleep. I left him to it and set about unpacking the clutch of small, linen bags containing the supplies I had purchased from the apothecary. You just never knew when you might need a fever remedy . . .
Sibert woke up late in the afternoon and said he was hungry and was there anything to eat? While he slept I had been out to find food, and I had prepared a generous meal. I’d visited the area where stalls had been set up to serve the huge workforce, buying dumplings made of flaked fish, flour and spices, a bread and mushroom poultice, a pot of honey-glazed carrots and slices of a sweet loaf flavoured with ginger, spices, berries and walnuts. I also had a jug of mead. I had spent far more than I ought to have done – we would have to exist on meagre supplies from now on, unless Sibert managed to go foraging – but there was something that I had to ask Sibert to do, and I badly needed him to agree.
We ate hungrily, having first raised our mead cups and drunk to Morcar’s good health. Sibert had already told me he was all right and had survived the journey; the first thing he’d said when he woke up – well, actually the second, after I’m hungry – was, ‘Don’t look so worried, Lassair, Morcar’s tucked up safely at Aelf Fen and both your aunt and my uncle are looking after him to the very best of their abilities.’
I made myself relax as Sibert and I worked our way through our feast. It was too good to waste by being so anxious that I didn’t notice what I was eating. When we had finished and were relaxing on our straw piles, I gathered my courage and said, ‘Sibert, we can’t stay here for ever pretending to nurse a man who isn’t here. Sooner or later someone will discover the deception, and besides I’ve got better things to do with my life.’
Sibert grinned. ‘Me too.’
‘We have to find out who tried to kill Morcar and why,’ I hurried on, ‘and so far the only thing we have to go on is that strange scene that he saw at the abbey gate.’
‘Yes,’ Sibert agreed. ‘The pale boy who doesn’t want to be a monk.’
It was a grand conclusion to draw from such a small incident but, as I had just said, all we had. If it had been this that Morcar had seen, and that the killers had to keep secret, then it was indeed the right place to begin. Before I could start to doubt myself I said, ‘You’ve got to go into the abbey, Sibert. You have to find this pale-haired boy and speak to him. If he’s there against his will, we’ll try to help him. Even if we can’t, we must tell someone –’ the abbot, I supposed – ‘and bring the whole thing into the open, because only then will the killers stop hunting Morcar.’
Sibert obviously followed the logic of this, nodding as I spoke. Then he fixed me with a glare and said, ‘You said you must go into the abbey. Don’t you mean we ?’
I took a breath, slowly letting it out. Then I said, as calmly as I could, ‘No, I’m afraid not. It’s an abbey full of Benedictine monks and they only admit lay women when they really have to.’
‘You’re not a woman, you’re a healer,’ Sibert protested.
I knew what he meant. ‘Yes, but I don’t think they make the distinction.’ I explained about my visit that morning and how, even having described myself as a healer, I had not been allowed in.
‘Oh.’ He sounded forlorn. Accepting, but definitely forlorn.
I reached over, the mead jug in my hand, and topped up his mug. ‘Come on!’ I said bracingly. ‘A man who
It was almost midday before I returned to the little house. I knew someone was inside, for the leather strap that I had wound around the latch to hold it firmly closed was hanging loosely from a nail on the door post. Hoping it was Sibert, I went in.
Sibert lay fast asleep on the straw mattress, mouth open, snoring rhythmically. I found myself smiling broadly; it was such a relief to see him. I burned to ask him if Morcar was all right, but he needed to sleep. I left him to it and set about unpacking the clutch of small, linen bags containing the supplies I had purchased from the apothecary. You just never knew when you might need a fever remedy . . .
Sibert woke up late in the afternoon and said he was hungry and was there anything to eat? While he slept I had been out to find food, and I had prepared a generous meal. I’d visited the area where stalls had been set up to serve the huge workforce, buying dumplings made of flaked fish, flour and spices, a bread and mushroom poultice, a pot of honey-glazed carrots and slices of a sweet loaf flavoured with ginger, spices, berries and walnuts. I also had a jug of mead. I had spent far more than I ought to have done – we would have to exist on meagre supplies from now on, unless Sibert managed to go foraging – but there was something that I had to ask Sibert to do, and I badly needed him to agree.
We ate hungrily, having first raised our mead cups and drunk to Morcar’s good health. Sibert had already told me he was all right and had survived the journey; the first thing he’d said when he woke up – well, actually the second, after I’m hungry – was, ‘Don’t look so worried, Lassair, Morcar’s tucked up safely at Aelf Fen and both your aunt and my uncle are looking after him to the very best of their abilities.’
I made myself relax as Sibert and I worked our way through our feast. It was too good to waste by being so anxious that I didn’t notice what I was eating. When we had finished and were relaxing on our straw piles, I gathered my courage and said, ‘Sibert, we can’t stay here for ever pretending to nurse a man who isn’t here. Sooner or later someone will discover the deception, and besides I’ve got better things to do with my life.’
Sibert grinned. ‘Me too.’
‘We have to find out who tried to kill Morcar and why,’ I hurried on, ‘and so far the only thing we have to go on is that strange scene that he saw at the abbey gate.’
‘Yes,’ Sibert agreed. ‘The pale boy who doesn’t want to be a monk.’
It was a grand conclusion to draw from such a small incident but, as I had just said, all we had. If it had been this that Morcar had seen, and that the killers had to keep secret, then it was indeed the right place to begin. Before I could start to doubt myself I said, ‘You’ve got to go into the abbey, Sibert. You have to find this pale-haired boy and speak to him. If he’s there against his will, we’ll try to help him. Even if we can’t, we must tell someone –’ the abbot, I supposed – ‘and bring the whole thing into the open, because only then will the killers stop hunting Morcar.’
Sibert obviously followed the logic of this, nodding as I spoke. Then he fixed me with a glare and said, ‘You said you must go into the abbey. Don’t you mean we ?’
I took a breath, slowly letting it out. Then I said, as calmly as I could, ‘No, I’m afraid not. It’s an abbey full of Benedictine monks and they only admit lay women when they really have to.’
‘You’re not a woman, you’re a healer,’ Sibert protested.
I knew what he meant. ‘Yes, but I don’t think they make the distinction.’ I explained about my visit that morning and how, even having described myself as a healer, I had not been allowed in.
‘Oh.’ He sounded forlorn. Accepting, but definitely forlorn.
I reached over, the mead jug in my hand, and topped up his mug. ‘Come on!’ I said bracingly. ‘A man who
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