Brother Cadfael 04: St. Peter's Fair

have followed while he was in prison. He shall eat his dinner at home today."
    Rhodri was not merely willing to spend an hour pouring the fruits of his wisdom and experience into Brother Cadfael's ear, he was hovering with that very thing in mind as soon as the corpse of Euan of Shotwick had been carried away, and the booth closed, with one of the sheriff's men on guard. Though ever-present, he had the gift of being unobtrusive until he chose to obtrude, and then could appear from an unexpected direction, and as casually as if only chance had brought him there.
    "No doubt you'll have sold all you brought with you," said Cadfael, encountering him thus between the stalls, clearly untroubled by business.
    "Goods of quality are recognized everywhere," said Rhodri, sharp eyes twinkling merrily. "My lads are clearing the last few jars of honey, and the wool's long gone. But I've a half-full bottle there, if you care to share a cup at this hour? Mead, not wine, but you'll be happy with that, being a Welshman yourself."
    They sat on heaped trestles already freed from their annual use by the removal of small tradesmen who had sold out their stock, and set the bottle between them.
    "And what," asked Cadfael, with a jerk of his head towards the guarded booth, "do you make of that affair this morning? After all that's gone before? Have we more birds of prey this way than usual, do you think? It may be they've taken fright and left the shires where there's still fighting, and we get the burden of it."
    Rhodri shook his shaggy head, and flashed his large white teeth out of the thicket in a grin. "I would say you've had a more than commonly peaceful and well-mannered fair, myself - apart from the misfortunes of two merchants only. Oh, tonight's the last night, and there'll be a few drunken squabbles and a brawl or two, I daresay, but what is there in that? But chance has played no part in what has happened to Thomas of Bristol. Chance never goes hounding one man for three days through hundreds of his fellows, yet never grazes one of the others."
    "It has more than grazed Euan of Shotwick," remarked Cadfael dryly.
    "Not chance! Consider, brother! Earl Ranulf of Chester's eyes and ears comes to a Shropshire fair and is killed. Thomas of Bristol, from a city that holds by Earl Robert of Gloucester, comes to the same fair, and is killed the very night of his coming. And after his death, everything he brought with him is turned hither and yon, but precious little stolen, from all I hear." And certainly he had a way of hearing most of what was said within a mile of him, but at least he had made no mention of the violation of Master Thomas's coffin. Either that had not reached his ears, and never would, or else he had been the first to know of it, and would be the last ever to admit it. The parish door was always open, no need to set foot in the great court or pass the gatehouse. "Something Thomas brought to Shrewsbury is of burning interest to somebody, it seems to me, and the somebody failed to get hold of it from man, barge or stall. And the next thing that happens is that Euan of Shotwick is also killed in the night, and all his belongings ransacked. I would not say but things were stolen there. They may have learned enough for that, and his goods are small and portable, and why despise a little gain on the side? But for all that - No, two men from opposite ends of a divided country, meeting midway, on important private business? It could be so! Gloucester's man and Chester's man."
    "And whose," wondered Cadfael aloud, "was the third man?"
    "The third?"
    "Who took such an interest in the other two that they died of it. Whose man would he be?"
    "Why, there are other factions, and every one of them needs its intelligencers. There's the king's party - they might well feel a strong interest if they noted Gloucester's man and Chester's man attending the same fair midway between. And not only the king - there are others who count themselves kings on their own ground, besides Chester, and they also need to know what such a one as Chester is up to, and will go far to block it if it threatens their own profit. And then there's the church, brother, if you'll take it no offence is meant to the Benedictines. For you'll have heard by now that the king has dealt very hardly with some of his bishops this last few weeks, put up all manner of clerical backs, and turned his own brother and best ally, Bishop Henry of Winchester, who's papal legate into