Brother Cadfael 08: The Devil's Novice

or led, he would not give any trouble to you.'
    'I never had him in my hands but one evening and the morning after,' said Meriet, 'nor saw him again until you brought him to the abbey, my lord.' And though sudden angry colour had flamed upward to his brow, his voice was ready and firm, and his temper well in hand.
    'Well, let us first find a name for our dead man,' said Hugh, and turned to circle the dismembered mound once more, scanning the littered and fouled ground for any further detail that might have some bearing. He pondered what was left of the leather belt, all but the buckle end burned away, the charred remnant extending just far enough to reach a lean man's left hip. 'Whoever he was, he carried sword or dagger, here is the loop of the strap by which it hung-a dagger, too light and elegant for a sword. But no sign of the dagger itself. That should be somewhere here among the rubble.'
    They raked through the debris for a further hour, but found no more of metal or clothing. When he was certain there was nothing more to be discovered, Hugh withdrew his party. They wrapped the recovered bones and the ring and cross reverently in a linen cloth and a blanket, and rode back with them to Saint Giles. There Meriet dismounted, but halted in silence to know what was the deputy-sheriff's will with him.
    'You will be remaining here at the hospice?' asked Hugh, eyeing him impartially. 'Your abbot has committed you to this service?'
    'Yes, my lord. Until or unless I am recalled to the abbey, I shall be here.' It was said with emphasis, not merely stating a fact, but stressing that he felt himself to have taken vows already, and not only his duty of obedience but his own will would keep him here.
    'Good! So we know where to find you at need. Very well, continue your work here without hindrance, but subject to your abbot's authority, hold yourself also at my disposal.'
    'So I will, my lord. So I do,' said Meriet, and turned on his heel with a certain drear dignity, and stalked away up the incline to the gate in the wattle fence.
    'And now, I suppose,' sighed Hugh, riding on towards the Foregate with Cadfael beside him, 'you will be at odds with me for being rough with your fledgling. Though I give you due credit, you held your tongue very generously.'
    'No,' said Cadfael honestly, 'he's none the worse for goading. And there's no blinking it, suspicion drapes itself round him like cobwebs on an autumn bush.'
    'It is the man, and he knows that it is. He knew it as soon as he raked out the shoe and the foot within it. That, and not the mere matter of some unknown man's ugly death, was what shook him almost out of his wits. He knew - quite certainly he knew - that Peter Clemence was dead, but just as certainly he did not know what had been done with the body. Will you go with me so far?'
    'So far,' said Cadfael ruefully, 'I have already gone. An irony, indeed, that he led them straight to the place, when for once he was thinking of nothing but finding his poor folk fuel for the winter. Which is on the doorstep this very evening, unless my nose for weather fails me.' The air had certainly grown still and chill, and the sky was closing down upon the world in leaden cloud. Winter had delayed, but was not far away.
    'First,' pursued Hugh, harking back to the matter in hand, 'we have to affix a name to these bones. That whole household at Aspley saw the man, spent an evening in his company, they must all know these gems of his, soiled as they may be now. It might put a rampaging cat among pigeons if I sent to summon Leoric here to speak as to his guest's cross and ring. When the birds fly wild, we may pick up a feather or two.'
    'But for all that,' said Cadfael earnestly, 'I should not do it. Say never a probing word to any, leave them lulled. Let it be known we've found a murdered man, but no more. If you let out too much, then the one with guilt to hide will be off and out of reach. Let him think all's well, and he'll be off his guard. You'll not have forgotten, the older boy's marriage is set for the twenty-first of this month, and two days before that the whole clan of them, neighbours, friends and all, will be gathering in our guest-halls. Bring them in, and you have everyone in your hand. By then we may have the means to divine truth from untruth. And as for proving that this is indeed Peter Clemence - not that I'm in doubt! - did you not tell me that Canon Eluard intends to come back to us on the way south from Lincoln, and