Brother Cadfael 08: The Devil's Novice

this someone else came to this spot in the forest, even as he himself did, at least six hours too late to be the murderer!'
    On the eighteenth day of December Canon Eluard rode into Shrewsbury in very good conceit of himself, having persuaded his king into a visit which had turned out conspicuously well, and escorted him thus far south again towards his customary London Christmas, before leaving him in order to diverge westward in search of news of Peter Clemence. Chester and Lincoln, both earls now in name as well as in fact, had made much of Stephen, and pledged him their unshakable loyalty, which he in turn had recognised with gifts of land as well as titles. Lincoln castle he retained in his own hand, well-garrisoned, but the city and the shire were open to his new earl. The atmosphere in Lincoln had been of holiday and ease, aided by clement weather for December. Christmas in the north-east bade fair to be a carefree festival.
    Hugh came down from the castle to attend on the canon and exchange the news with him, though it was a very uneven exchange. He had brought with him the relics of Peter Clemence's jewels and harness, cleaned of their encrusted filth of ash and soil, but discoloured by the marks of fire. The dead man's bones reposed now in a lead-lined coffin in the mortuary chapel of the abbey, but the coffin was not yet sealed. Canon Eluard had it opened for him, and gazed upon the remains within, grim-faced but unwincing.
    'Cover him,' he said, and turned away. There was nothing there that could ever again be known as any man. The cross and ring were a very different matter.
    'This I do know. This I have commonly seen him wearing,' said Eluard, with the cross in the palm of his hand. Over the silver surface the coloured sheen of tarnish glimmered, but the gems shone clear. 'This is certainly Clemence,' said Eluard heavily. 'It will be grievous news for my bishop. And you have some fellow in hold for this crime?'
    'We have a man in prison, true,' said Hugh, 'and have let it be noised abroad that he is the man, but in truth I must tell you that he is not charged, and almost certainly never will be. The worst known of him is a little thieving here and there, from hunger, and on that I continue to hold him. But a murderer I am sure he is not.' He told the story of his search, but said no word of Meriet's confession. 'If you intend to rest here two or three days before riding on, there may yet be more news to take with you.' It was in his mind as he said it that he was a fool to promise any such thing, but his thumbs had pricked, and the words were out.
    Cadfael had business with Leoric Aspley when he came, and the imminent gathering here of all those closest about Peter Clemence's last hours seemed to Hugh like the thickening and lowering of a cloud before the storm breaks and the rain falls. If the rain refused to fall, then after the wedding Aspley should be made to tell all that he knew, and probe after what he did not know, taking into account such small matters as those six unrecorded hours, and the mere three miles Clemence had ridden before he met his death.
    'Nothing can restore the dead,' said Canon Eluard sombrely, 'but it is only just and right that his murderer should be brought to account. I trust that may yet be done.'
    'And you'll be here yet a few days? You're not in haste to rejoin the king?'
    'I go to Winchester, not Westminster. And it will be worth waiting a few days to have somewhat more to tell the bishop concerning this grievous loss. I confess to being in need of a brief rest, too, I am not so young as once I was. Your sheriff still leaves you to carry the cares of the shire alone, by the way. King Stephen wishes to retain him in his company over the feast, they go directly to London.'
    That was by no means unwelcome news to Hugh. The business he had begun he was strongly minded to finish, and two minds bent to the same task, the one more impatient than the other, do not make for good results. 'And you are content with your visit,' he said. 'Something, at least, has gone well.'
    'It was worth all the travelling,' said Eluard with satisfaction. 'The king can be easy in his mind about the north, Ranulf and William between them have every mile of it well in hand, it would be a bold man who would meddle with their order. His Grace's castellan in Lincoln is on the best of terms with the earls and their ladies. And the messages I bear to the bishop are gracious indeed. Yes, it was well