Brother Cadfael 04: St. Peter's Fair

the bargain, into a bitter enemy. Bishop Henry himself might well have a finger in this pie, though I doubt if he can have had word of things afoot here in time, being never out of the south. But Lincoln, or Worcester - all such lords need to know what's going on, and for men of influence there are always plenty of bully-boys for hire, who'll do the labouring work while their masters sit inviolable at home."
    And so, thought Cadfael, could wealthy men sit inviolable here in their stalls, in full view of hundreds, while their hired bully-boys do the dirty work. And this black Welshman is laying it all out for me plain to be seen, and taking delight in it, too! Cadfael knew when he was being deliberately teased! What he could not be quite sure of was whether this was the caprice of a blameless but mischievous man, or the sport of a guilty one taking pleasure in his own immunity and cleverness. The black eyes sparkled and the white teeth shone. And why grudge him his enjoyment, if something useful could yet be gleaned from it? Besides, his mead was excellent.
    "There must," said Cadfael thoughtfully, "be others here from Cheshire, even some from close to Ranulf's court. You yourself, for instance, come from not so far away, and are knowledgeable about those parts, and the men and the mood there. If you are right, whoever has committed these acts knew where to look for the thing they wanted, once they gave up believing that it was still among the effects of Thomas of Bristol. Now how would they be able to choose, say, between Euan of Shotwick and you? As an instance, of course! No offence!"
    "None in the world!" said Rhodri heartily. "Why, bless you! The only reason I know myself is because I am myself, and know I'm not in Ranulf of Chester's employ. But you can't know that, not certainly, and neither can any other. There's a small point, of course - Thomas of Bristol, I doubt, spoke no Welsh."
    "And you no English," sighed Cadfael. "I had forgotten!"
    "There was a traveller from down towards Gloucester stayed overnight at Ranulf s court not a month ago," mused Rhodri, twinkling happily at his own omniscience, "a jongleur who got unusual favour, for he was called in to play a stave or two to Ranulf and his lady in private, after they left the hall at night. If Earl Ranulf has an ear for music, it's the first I've heard of it. It would certainly need more than a French virelai to fetch him in for his father-in-law's cause. He would want to know what were the prospects of success, and what his reward might be." He slanted a radiant smile along his shoulder at Cadfael, and poured out the last of the mead. "Your health, brother! You, at least, are delivered from the greed for gain. I have often wondered, is there a passion large enough to take its place? I am still in the world myself, you understand."
    "I think there might be," said Cadfael mildly. "For truth, perhaps? Or justice?"
    Chapter Two
    The gaoler unlocked the door of Philip's cell somewhat before noon, and stood .back to let the provost enter. Father and son eyed each other hard, and though Geoffrey Corviser continued to look grimly severe, and Philip obdurate and defiant, nevertheless the father was mollified and the son reassured. By and large, they understood each other pretty well.
    "You are released to my warranty," said the provost shortly. "The charge is not withdrawn, not yet, but you're trusted to appear when called, and until then, let's hope I may get some sensible work out of you."
    "I may come home with you?" Philip sounded dazed; he knew nothing of what had been going on outside, and was unprepared for this abrupt release. Hurriedly he brushed himself down, all too aware that he presented no very savoury spectacle to walk through the town at the provost's side. "What made them change their mind? There's no one been taken for the murder?" That would clear him utterly in Emma's eyes, no doubts left.
    "Which murder?" said his father grimly. "Never mind now, you shall hear, once we have you out of here."
    "Ay, stir yourself, lad," advised the good-humoured warder, jingling his keys, "before they change their minds again. The rate things are happening at this year's fair, you might find the door slammed again before you can get through it."
    Philip followed his father wonderingly out of the castle. The noon light in the outer ward fell warm and dazzling upon him, the sky was a brilliant, deep blue, like Emma's eyes when she widened them in anxiety or