Brother Cadfael 05: Leper of Saint Giles

a matter of business, is it not? Like concubinage! Love - ah, well, that's another matter, apart from either of them. Yes, I was expecting him. My position would not have been any way changed, you understand."
    Brother Cadfael understood. The mistress of twenty years standing would not have been dislodged by the equally purchased heiress twenty-six years her junior. They were two separate worlds, and the inhabitant of the alternative world had her own legitimacy.
    "He came alone?"
    "Yes, alone."
    "And left you at what hour?" Now he was at the heart of the matter. For this honourable whore had certainly never conspired at her lord's end, nor even cuckolded him with his steward, that jealous, faithful, suspicious soul who clove to her out of long-standing loyalty, surely well-deserved. This woman would have both feet firmly on the ground in dealing with those accidentally her servants, and respect them as they would learn to respect her.
    She thought carefully about that. "It was past six in the morning. I cannot be sure how far past, but there was the promise of light. I went out with him to the gate. I remember, there were already colours, it must have been nearing the half-hour. For I went to the patch of gromwell - it went on flowering so late this year - and plucked some flowers and put them in his cap."
    "Past six, and nearer the half than the quarter of the hour," mused Cadfael. "Then he could not have reached the spot where he was ambushed and killed before a quarter to the hour of Prime, and probably later."
    "There you must hold me excused, brother, for I do not know the place. For his leaving, as near as I dare state, he rode away about twenty minutes after six."
    A quarter of an hour, even at a speed too brisk for the light, to bring him to the place where the trap was laid. How long to account for the final killing? At the very least, ten minutes. No, the murderer could not have quit the spot before at least a quarter to seven, and most probably considerably later.
    There was only one vital question left to ask. Many others, which had been puzzling him before he encountered her, and began to find his way past one misconception after another to the truth, had already become unnecessary. As, for instance, why she had discarded all her possessions, even her rings, left her jennet behind in the stable, denuded herself of all the profits of one career. Haste and fear, he had thought first, a bolt into hiding, putting off without coherent thought everything that could connect her with Huon de Domville. Then, when he found her already in a novice's habit, he had even considered that she might have been stricken into penitence, and felt it needful to give up all before venturing into the cloister to spend the latter half of her life atoning for the former. Now he could appreciate the irony of that. Avice of Thornbury repented nothing. As she had never been afraid, so he felt certain she had never in her life been ashamed. She had made a bargain and kept it, as long as her lord lived. Now she was her own property again, to dispose of as she saw fit.
    She had put off all her finery as an old soldier retiring might put off arms, as no longer of use or interest to him, and turn his considerable remaining energies to farming. Which was just what she proposed to do now. Her farm would be the Benedictine conventual economy, and she would take to it thoroughly and make a success of it. He even felt a rueful sympathy for the handful of sisters into whose dovecote this harmless-looking falcon had flown. Give her three or four years, and she would be abbess of Polesworth, and moreover, would further reinforce that house's stability and good repute, as well as its sound finances. After her death she might well end up as a saint.
    Meanwhile, though by this time he was assured of her forthrightness and reliability, she had a right to know that by doing her duty as a citizen she might find her privacy somewhat eroded.
    "You must understand," said Cadfael scrupulously, "that the sheriff may require you to testify when a man stands trial for his life, and that innocent lives may hang on the acceptance of your word. Will you bear witness to all this in a court of law, as you have here to me?"
    "In all my life," said Avice of Thornbury, "I have avoided one sin, at least. No, rather I was never tempted to it. I do not lie, and I do not feign. I will tell truth for you whenever you require it."
    "Then there is one matter more, which