Brother Cadfael 20: Brother Cadfael's Penance

first walls of the nave centuries old. Not until the porter had shown forth all the curiosities and beauties of his church to the visitor did he hand Cadfael over to the hospitaller, to be furnished with a bed, and welcomed into the community at supper in the frater.
    Before Compline he asked after the learned brother who was knowledgeable about the devices and liveries of the noble houses of England, and showed the drawings he had made in Coventry. Brother Eadwin studied them and shook his head. "No, this I have not seen. There are among the baronage some families who use several personal variations among their many members and branches. This is certainly none of the most prominent. I have never seen it before."
    Neither, it seemed, had the prior, or any of the brethren. They studied the drawings, but could not give the badge a family name or a location.
    "If it belongs in these parts," said Brother Eadwin, willing to be helpful, "you may find an answer in the village rather than within here. There are some good but minor families holding manors in this shire, besides those of high rank. How did it come into your hands, brother?"
    "It was in the baggage of a dead man," said Cadfael, "but not his. And the original is in the hands of the bishop of Coventry now, until we can discover its owner and restore it." He rolled up the leaf of vellum, and retied the cord that bound it. "No matter. The lord bishop will pursue it."
    He went to Compline with the brothers, preoccupied rather with the pain and guilt of his own self-exile from this monastic world than with the responsibility he had voluntarily taken upon himself in the secular world. The office comforted him, and the silence afterwards came gratefully. He put away all thought until the morrow, and rested in the quietness until he fell asleep.
    Nevertheless, after Mass next morning, when the builders had again uncovered their stores to make use of one more working day, he remembered the porter's description of Master Bernard as a local man, and thought it worth the trial to unroll his drawings upon the stacked ashlar and call the mason to study them and give judgement. Masons may be called upon to work upon manors and barns and farmsteads as well as churches, and use brands and signs in their own mysteries, and so may well respect and take note of them elsewhere.
    The mason came, gazed briefly, and said at once: "No, I do not know it." He studied it with detached interest, but shook his head decidedly. "No, this I've never seen."
    Two of his workmen, bearing a laden hand-barrow, had checked for a moment in passing to peer in natural curiosity at the leaf which was engaging their master's interest. The lame man, braced on his good right leg, looked up from the vellum to Cadfael's face for a long moment, before they moved on, and smiled and shrugged when Cadfael returned the glance directly.
    "No local house, then," said Cadfael resignedly.
    "None that's known to me, and I've done work for most manors round here." The mason shook his head again, as Cadfael re-rolled the leaf and put it back securely within his habit. "Is it of importance?"
    "It may be. Somewhere it will be known."
    It seemed he had done all that could be done here. What his next move should be he had not considered yet, let alone decided. By all the signs Philip must be in La Musarderie, where most probably his men had taken Yves into captivity, and where, according to the woodsman, he already had another hostage, or more than one, in hold.
    Even more convincing it seemed to Cadfael, was the argument that a man of such powerful passions would be where his hatreds anchored him. Beyond doubt Philip believed Yves guilty. Therefore if he could be convinced he was wronging the boy, his intent could and would be changed. He was an intelligent man, not beyond reason.
    Cadfael took his problem with him into the church at the hour of tierce, and said the office privately in a quiet corner. He was just opening his eyes and turning to withdraw when a hand was laid softly on his sleeve from behind.
    "Brother..."
    The lame man, for all his ungainliness, could move silently in his scuffed felt shoes on the floor tiles. His weathered face, under a thatch of thick brown hair, was intent and sombre. "Brother, you are seeking the man who uses a certain seal to his dealings. I saw your picture." He had a low, constrained voice, well suited to confidences.
    "I was so seeking," agreed Cadfael ruefully, "but it seems no one