Brother Cadfael 19: The Holy Thief

B�zet, naturally curious about anything that might serve his turn or redound to his profit, was not averse to picking up a few crumbs of useful information by the way. He slowed his pace to observe where Jerome went, and followed him without haste into the cloister.
    Prior Robert was replacing a book in the aumbry cupboard at the end of the scriptorium. Jerome made for him, heavy and urgent with news. B�zet slipped into a carrel as near as he could approach unnoticed, and made himself invisible in the shadows. A convenient time, with the light fading, for all the brothers who were engaged in copying or reading had abandoned their books for the evening, leaving the prior to ensure that everything was decently replaced exactly where it should be. In the twilit quietness voices carried, and Jerome was excited, and Robert never one to subdue a voice he was fond of hearing. Crumbs of advantage, B�zet had found, may be picked up in the most unexpected places.
    "Father Prior," said Brother Jerome, between outrage and satisfaction, "something has come to my notice that you should know. It seems that there is one man who helped to carry Saint Winifred's reliquary to the cart for Ramsey, in all innocence, being asked by a habited brother of the Order. He has said he can recognize the man, and is coming here tonight to make the assay. Father, why has no word been said to us of this matter?"
    "I do know of it," said the prior, and closed the door of the aumbry upon the piety and wisdom within. "The lord abbot told me. It was not made public because that would have been to give warning to the culprit."
    "But, Father, do you see what this means? It was the wickedness of men that removed her from our care. And I have heard a name given already to the impious thief who dared disturb her. I heard Brother Cadfael name him. The seeming innocent, the novice from Ramsey, Tutilo."
    "That was not said to me," reflected Robert with slightly affronted dignity. "No doubt because the abbot would not accuse a man until a witness gives proof positive of the felon's guilt. We have only to wait until tonight, and we shall have that proof."
    "But, Father, can one believe such wickedness of any man? What penance can possibly atone? Surely the lightning stroke of heaven should have fallen upon him and destroyed him in the very deed."
    "Retribution may be delayed," said Prior Robert, and turned to lead the way out from the scriptorium, his agitated shadow at his heels. "But it will be certain. A few hours only, and the illdoer will get his due penalty."
    Brother Jerome's vengeful and unsatisfied mutterings trailed away to the south door, and out into the chill of the evening. B�zet let him go, and sat for some moments considering what he had heard, before he rose at leisure, and walked back thoughtfully to the guesthall. An easy evening awaited him; both he and Daalny were excused all service, for R� was to dine with the abbot and the earl, the first fruits of his campaign in search of place and status. No servant need attend him, and though there might well be music made before the evening ended, a girl singer could not fittingly be a part of the entertainment in the abbot's lodging. They were both free to do whatever they wished, for once.
    "I have a thing to tell you," he said, finding Daalny frowning over the tuning of a rebec under one of the torches in the hall. "There's a hunt afoot tonight that I think your Tutilo would be well advised to avoid." And he told her what was in the wind. "Get the good word to him if you so please," he said amiably, "and let him make himself scarce. It might only postpone the day, but even one day is breathing space, and I fancy he's sharp enough to make up a plausible story, once he knows the odds, or to persuade this witness to a different tale. Why should I wish the lad any worse harm than he's let himself in for already?"
    "He is not my Tutilo," said Daalny. But she laid down the rebec on her knees, and looked up at B�zet with a fiercely thoughtful face. "This is truth you're telling me?"
    "What else? You've heard all the to-ing and fro-ing there's been, this is the latter end of it. And here you are free as a bird, for once, provided you come back to your cage in time. You do as you please, but I would let him know what's threatening. And as for me, I'm going to stretch my legs in the town, while I can. I'll say nothing, and know nothing."
    "He is not my Tutilo," she repeated, almost absently,