Brother Cadfael 03: Monk's Hood

and past the Bellecote yard without a glance, and on through the town. His way to the north-west lay over the bridge that led towards Wales, but he passed that, too, and climbed the hill to the High Cross; from that point the road descended slightly, to mount again into the castle gatehouse.
    King Stephen's garrison was in full possession since the summer siege, and the watch, though vigilant, was assured and easy. Cadfael lighted down at the approach, and led his mule up the causeway and into the shadow of the gate. The guard waited for him placidly.
    "Good morrow, brother! What's your will?"
    "A word with Hugh Beringar of Maesbury," said Cadfael. "Tell him Brother Cadfael, and I think he'll spare me a short while of his time."
    "You're out of luck, brother, for the present while. Hugh Beringar is not here, and likely won't be till the light fails, for he's off on some search down the river with Madog of the Dead-boat." That was news that heartened Cadfael as suddenly as the news of Hugh's absence had disheartened and dismayed him. He might have done better, after all, to leave the vial with Brother Mark, who could have paid a second visit after the first one had missed its mark. Of all but Beringar here, Cadfael had his doubts, but now he was caught in a situation he should have foreseen. Hugh had lost no time in setting the hunt in motion after Edwin's reliquary, and better still, was pursuing it himself instead of leaving it to underlings. But long delay here to wait for him was impossible; Brother Barnabas lay ill, and Cadfael had undertaken to go and care for him, and the sooner he reached him the better. He pondered whether to entrust his precious evidence to another, or keep it until he could deliver it to Beringar in person. Edwin, after all, was somewhere at liberty yet, no immediate ill could befall him.
    "If it's the matter of the poisoning you're here about," said the guard helpfully, "speak a word to the sergeant who's left in charge here. I hear there's been strange goings-on down at the abbey. You'll be glad when you're left in quiet again, and the rascal taken. Step in, brother, and I'll tether your mule and send to let William Warden know you're here."
    Well, no harm, at any rate, in taking a look at the law's surrogate and judging accordingly. Cadfael waited in a stony anteroom within the gatehouse, and let the object of his visit lie hidden in his scrip until he made up his mind. But the first glimpse of the sergeant as he entered rendered it virtually certain that the vial would remain in hiding. The same officer who had first answered the prior's summons to Bonel's house, bearded, brawny, hawk-beaked, self-assured and impatient of caution once his nose had found an obvious trail. He knew Cadfael again just as promptly; large white teeth flashed in a scornful grin in the bushy beard.
    "You again, brother? And still finding a dozen reasons why young Gurney must be blameless, when all that's wanting is a witness who stood by and watched him do the deed? Come to throw some more dust in our eyes, I suppose, while the guilty make off into Wales?"
    "I came," said Brother Cadfael, not strictly truthfully, "to enquire whether anything had yet come to light, concerning what I reported to Hugh Beringar yesterday."
    "Nothing has and nothing will. So it was you who set him off on this fool's errand down the river! I might have guessed it! A glib young rogue tells you a tall tale like that, and you swallow it, and infect your betters into the bargain! Wasteful nonsense! To spare men to row up and down Severn in the cold, after a reliquary that never was! You have much to answer for, brother."
    "No doubt I have," agreed Cadfael equably. "So have we all, even you. But to exert himself for truth and justice is Beringar's duty, and so it is yours and mine, and I do it as best I may, and forbear from snatching at what offers first and easiest, and shutting my eyes to everything else in order to be rid of the labour, and at ease again. Well, it seems I've troubled you for nothing. But let Hugh Beringar know that I was here asking for him."
    He eyed the sergeant closely at that, and doubted whether even that message would be delivered. No, grave evidence that pointed the wrong way could not be left with this man, who was so sure of his rightness he might bend even circumstances and facts to match his opinions. No help for it, the vial would have to go on to Rhyd y croesau and wait its time, when Brother Barnabas was