for good measure.
There
was no ill-will whatever in these exchanges, they were the normal endearments
current between these two, who would certainly have championed each other to
the death against any outside threat. There was no malice in it when Edwin
punched his nephew neatly and painfully in the muscles of the upper arm, and
Edwy as promptly plucked Edwin round by the shoulder while he was less securely
balanced, and spilled him on to the floor. Cadfael took them both by the scruff
of the neck, a fistful of capuchon in either hand, and plumped them back firmly
on to the beach, a yard apart this time, rather in defence of his softly
bubbling syrup than in any very serious exasperation. The brief scuffle had
warmed them, and shaken fear away to a magical distance; they sat grinning,
only slightly abashed.
“Will
you sit still a minute, and let me get the measure of you? You, Edwin, are the
uncle, and the younger… yes, I could know you apart. You’re darker, and
sturdier in the build, and I think your eyes must be brown. And Edwy’s…”
“Hazel,”
said Edwin helpfully.
“And
you have a small scar by your ear, close to the cheekbone. A small white
crescent.”
“He
fell out of a tree, three years ago,” Edwy informed him. “He never could
climb.”
“Now,
enough of that! Master Edwin, now that you are here, and I know which one you
are, let me ask you the same question I asked your proxy here a while ago. On
your soul and honour, did you strike the blow that killed Master Bonel?”
The
boy looked back at him with great eyes suddenly solemn enough, and said firmly:
“I did not. I carry no weapon, and even if I did, why should I try to harm him?
I know what they must be saying of me, that I grudged it that he broke his
word, for so he did. But I was not born to manor, but to trade, and I can make my
way in trade, I wouldbe ashamed if I could not. No, whoever
wounded him to the death—but how could it happen, so suddenly?—it was not I. On
my soul!”
Cadfael
was in very little doubt of him by then, but he gave no sign yet. “Tell me what
did happen.”
“I
left Meurig in the infirmary with the old man, and went on to my mother’s house
alone. But I don’t understand about the infirmary. Is that important?”
“Never
mind that now, go on. How were you welcomed?”
“My
mother was pleased,” said the boy. “But my stepfather crowed over me like a
cock that’s won its bout. I answered him as little as I might, and bore it for
my mother’s sake, and that angered him more, so that he would find some way to
sting me. We were three sitting at table, and Aldith had served the meat, and
she told him the prior had paid him the compliment of sending a dish for him
from his own table. My mother tried to talk about that, and flatter him with
the distinction of it, but he wanted me to burn and smart at all costs, and he
wouldn’t be put off. He said I’d come, as he knew I would, my tail between my
legs, like a whipped hound, to beg him to change his mind and restore me my
inheritance, and he said if I wanted it, I should kneel and beg him, and he
might take pity on me. And I lost my temper, for all I could do, and shouted
back at him that I’d see him dead before I’d so much as once ask him a favour,
let alone crawl on my knees. I don’t know now all I said, but he began throwing
things, and… and my mother was crying, and I rushed out, and straight back over
the bridge and into the town.”
“But
not to Master Bellecote’s house. And did you hear Aelfric calling after you as
far as the bridge, to fetch you back?”
“Yes,
but what would have been the use? It would only have made things worse.”
“But
you did not go home.”
“I
was not fit. And I was ashamed.”
“He
went to brood in Father’s wood-store by the river,”said Edwy
helpfully. “He always does when he’s out of sorts with the world. Or if we’re
in trouble, we
Similar Books
