Brother Cadfael 04: St. Peter's Fair

familiar voice, rich and full and merrily knowing, said in Welsh: "Well, well, brother, out so late? And keeping the law company! What would the deputy sheriff of the shire want with Thomas of Bristol's watchman at this hour? Are they on the scent of all Gloucester's familiars, after all? And I claimed commerce was above the anarchy!" Narrowed eyes twinkled at Cadfael in the light of the dispersed torches and the far-distant stars in a perfect midsummer sky. Rhodri ap Huw was chuckling softly and fatly at his own teasing wit and menacing sharpness of apprehension.
    "You keep a friendly eye out for your neighbours?" said Cadfael, innocently approving. "I see you brought off all your own goods without scathe."
    "I have a nose for trouble, and the good sense to step out of its way," said Rhodri ap Huw smugly. "What's come to Thomas of Bristol? He was not so quick on the scent, it seems. He could have loosed his mooring and poled out into the river till the flurry was over, and been as safe as in the west country."
    "Did you see him struck down?" asked Cadfael deceitfully; but Rhodri was not to be caught.
    "I saw him strike down the other young fool," he said, and grinned. "Why, did he come to grief after I left? And which of them is it you're looking for, Thomas or the lad?" And he stared with marked interest to see the sheriff's men probing at the backs of stalls, and under the trestles, and followed inquisitively on their heels as they worked their way back along the highroad. Evidently nothing of moment was to be allowed to happen at this fair without Rhodri ap Huw being present at it, or very quickly and minutely informed of it. And why not make use of, his perspicacity?
    "Thomas's niece is in a taking because he has not come back to his barge. That might mean anything or nothing, but now it's gone on so long, his men are getting uneasy, too. Did you see him leave his booth?"
    "I did. It might be as much as two hours ago. And his journeyman some little while after him. A fair size of a man, to be lost between here and the river. And no word of him anywhere since then?"
    "Not that we've found, or likely to find, without questioning every trader and every idler in all this array. And the wiser half of them getting their sleep in ready for the morning."
    They had reached the Foregate and turned towards the town, and still Rhodri strode companionably beside Cadfael, and had taken to peering into the dark spaces between stalls just as the sheriff's men were doing. Lights and braziers were fewer here, and the stalls more modest, and the quiet of the night closed in drowsily. On their left, under the abbey wall, a few compact but secure booths were arrayed. The first of them, though completely closed in and barred for the night, showed through a chink the light of a candle within. Rhodri dug a weighty elbow into Cadfael's ribs.
    "Euan of Shotwick! No one is ever going to get at him from the rear, he likes a corner backed into two walls if he can get it. Travels alone with a pack-pony, and wears a weapon, and can use it, too. A solitary soul because he trusts nobody. His own porter - luckily his wares weigh light for their value - and his own watchman."
    Ivo Corbiere had loitered to go aside between the stalls, some of which in this stretch were still unoccupied, waiting for the local traders who would come with the dawn. The consequent darkness slowed their search, and the young man, not at all averse to spending the night without sleep, and probably encouraged by the memory of Emma's bright eyes, was tireless and thorough. Even Cadfael and Rhodri ap Huw were some yards ahead of him when they heard him cry after them, high and urgently:
    "Good God, what's here? Beringar, come back here!"
    The tone was enough to bring them running. Corbiere had left the highway, probing between stacked trestles and leaning canvas awnings into darkness, but when they peered close there was lambent light enough from the stars for accustomed eyes to see what he had seen. From beneath a light wooden frame and stretched canvas jutted two booted feet, motionless, toes pointed skywards. For a moment they all stared in silence, dumbstruck, for truth to tell, not one of them had believed that the merchant could have come to any harm, as they all agreed afterwards. Then Beringar took hold of the frame and hoisted it away from the trestles against which it leaned, and dim and large in the darkness they saw a man's long shape, from the knees up rolled