An Excellent Mystery by Ellis Peters Page B

listening, and until now
silent.
    “Not
in the best of health,” said Cadfael, “but neither was he, I suppose, when you
last parted from him. He has broken an old wound, but that came, I think, after
his long ride here. It is mending well now, in a day or two he’ll be up and
back to the duties he’s chosen. He is well loved, and well tended by a young
brother who came here with him from Hyde, and had been his attendant there. If
you’ll wait but a moment I’ll tell Father Prior that Brother Humilis has a
visitor, and bring you to him.”
    That
errand he did very briskly, to leave the pair of them together for a few
minutes. Hugh needed tidings, all the firsthand knowledge he could get from
that distant and confused battlefield, where two factions of his enemies, by
their mutual clawings, had now drawn in the whole formidable array of his
friends upon one side. A shifty side at best, seeing the bishop had changed his
allegiance now for the third time. But at least it held the empress’s forces in
a steel girdle now in the city of Winchester, and was tightening the girdle to
starve them out. Cadfael’s warrior blood, long since abjured, had a way of
coming to the boil when he heard steel in the offing. His chief uneasiness was
that he could not be truly penitent about it. His king was not of this world,
but in this world he could not help having a preference.
    Prior
Robert was taking his afternoon rest, which was known to others as his hour of
study and prayer. A good time, since he was not disposed to rouse himself and
come out to view the visitor, or exert himself to be ceremoniously hospitable.
Cadfael got what he had counted on, a gracious permission to conduct the guest
to Brother Humilis in his cell, and attend him to provide whatever assistance
he might require. In addition, of course, to Father Prior’s greetings and
blessing, sent from his daily retreat into meditation.
    They
had had time to grow familiar and animated while he had been absent, he saw it
in their faces, and the easy turn of both heads, hearing his returning step.
They would ride together into the town already more than comrades in arms,
potential friends.
    “Come
with me,” said Cadfael, “and I’ll bring you to Brother Humilis.”
    On
the day stairs the young, earnest voice at his shoulder said quietly: “Brother,
you have been doctoring my lord since this fit came on. So the lord sheriff
told me. He says you have great skills in herbs and medicine and healing.”
    “The
lord sheriff,” said Cadfael, “is my good friend for some years, and thinks
better of me than I deserve. But, yes, I do tend your lord, and thus far we two
do well together. You need not fear he is not valued truly, we do know his
worth. See him, and judge for yourself. For you must know what he suffered in
the east. You were with him there?”
    “Yes.
I’m from his own lands, I sailed when he sent for a fresh force, and shipped
some elders and wounded for home. And I came back with him, when he knew his
usefulness there was ended.”
    “Here,”
said Cadfael, with his foot on the top stair, “his usefulness is far from
ended. There are young men here who live the brighter by his light — under the
light by which we all live, that’s understood. You may find two of them with
him now. If one of them lingers, let him, he has the right. That’s his
companion from Hyde.”
    They
emerged into the corridor that ran the whole length of the dortoir, between the
partitioned cells, and stood at the opening of the dim, narrow space allotted
to Humilis.
    “Go in,” said
Cadfael. “You do not need a herald to be welcome.”

 
     
     
    Chapter Four
     
    IN
THE CELL THE LITTLE LAMP FOR READING WAS NOT LIGHTED, since one of the young
attendants could not read, and the other could not speak, while the incumbent
himself still lay propped up with pillows in his cot, too weak to nurse a heavy
book. But if Rhun could not