Ellis Peters - Dead Man's Ransom

Dead Mans Ransom

Ellis Peters

The Ninth Chronicle of Brother Cadfael

EBook Design Group [EDG] digital edition v1 HTML

v2 HTML January 9,2003

Contents

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CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

First published 1984 by Macmillan London Limited

ISBN 0 7540 1276 X

Copyright Ellis Peters 1984 All rights reserved

The right of Ellis Peters to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

CHAPTER ONE

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On that day, which was the seventh of February of theyear of Our Lord 1141, they had offered special prayers at every office, notfor the victory of one party or the defeat of another in the battlefields of thenorth, but for better counsel, for reconciliation, for the sparing ofblood-letting and the respect of life between men of the same countryalldesirable consummations, as Brother Cadfael sighed to himself even as heprayed, but very unlikely to be answered in this torn and fragmented land withany but a very dusty answer. Even God needs some consideration and support fromhis material to make reasoning and benign creatures of men.

Shrewsbury had furnished King Stephen with a creditable force to join hismuster for the north, where the earls of Chester and Lincoln, ambitioushalf-brothers, had flouted the kings grace and moved to set up their ownpalatine, and with much in their favour, too. The parish part of the greatchurch was fuller than usual even at the monastic offices, with anxious wives,mothers and grandsires fervent in praying for their menfolk. Not every man whohad marched with Sheriff Gilbert Prestcote and his deputy, Hugh Beringar, wouldcome home again unscathed to Shrewsbury. Rumours flew, but news was in verypoor supply. Yet word had filtered through that Chester and Lincoln, longlurking in neutrality between rival claimants for the crown, having ambitiousplans of their own in defiance of both, had made up their minds in short order whenmenaced by King Stephens approach, and sent hotfoot for help from thechampions of his antagonist, the Empress Maud. Thus committing themselves forthe future, perhaps so deep that they might yet live to regret it.

Cadfael came out from Vespers gloomily doubting the force, and even thehonesty, of his own prayers, however he had laboured to give them heart. Mendrunk with ambition and power do not ground their weapons, nor stop torecognise the fellow-humanity of those they are about to slay. Not herenotyet. Stephen had gone rampaging north with his muster, a huge, gallant, simple,swayable soul roused to rage by Chesters ungrateful treachery, and drawnafter him many, and many a wiser and better balanced man who could have donehis reasoning for him, had he taken a little more time for thought. The issuehung in the balance and the good men of Shropshire were committed with theirlord. So was Cadfaels close friend, Hugh Beringar of Maesbury, deputysheriff of the shire, and his wife must be anxiously waiting there in the townfor news. Hughs son, a year old now, was Cadfaels godson, and hehad leave to visit him whenever he wished, a godfathers duties beingimportant and sacred. Cadfael turned his back on supper in the refectory, andmade his way out of the abbey gates, along the highway between the abbey milland mill-pond on his left, and the belt of woodland sheltering the main abbeygardens of the Gaye on his right, over the bridge that spanned the Severn,glimmering in the wintry, starlit frost, and in through the great town gate.

There were torches burning at the door of Hughs house by SaintMarys church and beyond, at the High Cross, it seemed to Cadfael thatthere were more folk abroad and stirring than was usual at this hour of awinter evening. The faintest shiver of excitement hung in the air, and as soonas his foot touched the doorstone Aline came flying to the doorway with openarms. When she knew him her face remained pleased and welcoming, butnonetheless lost in an instant its special burning brightness.

Not Hugh! said Cadfael ruefully, knowing for whom the door hadbeen thus thrown wide. Not yet. Is there news, then? Are theyhoming?

Will Warden sent word an hour ago, before the light was quite gone.They sighted steel from the towers, a good way off then, but by now they mustbe in the castle foregate. The gates open for them. Come in to the fire,Cadfael, and stay for him. She drew him in by the hands, and closed thedoor resolutely on the night and her own aching impatience. He isthere, she said, catching in Cadfaels face the reflection of herown partisan love and anxiety. They caught his colours. And the array ingood order. Yet it cannot be quite as it went forth, that I know.

No, never that. Those who go forth to the battle never return without holesin their ranks, like gaping wounds. Pity of all pities that those who leadnever learn, and the few wise men among those who follow never quite avail toteach. But faith given and allegiance pledged are stronger than fear, thoughtCadfael, and that, perhaps, is virtue, even in the teeth of death. Death, afterall, is the common expectation from birth. Neither heroes nor cowards canescape it.

Hes sent no word ahead, he asked, of how the daywent?

None. But the rumour is it did not go well. She said it firmlyand freely, putting back with a small hand the pale gold hair from herforehead. A slender girl, still only twenty-one years old and mother of ayear-old son and as fair as her husband was black-avised. The shy manner of hergirlhood years had matured into a gentle dignity. This is a very wantontide that flows and carries us all, here in England, she said. Itcannot always run one way, there must be an ebb. She was brisk andpractical about it, whatever that firm face cost her. You haventeaten, you cant have stayed for supper, she said, the housewifecomplete. Sit there and nurse your godson a little while, and Illbring you meat and ale.

The infant Giles, formidably tall for a year old when he was reared erect byholding to benches and trestles and chests to keep his balance, made his waycarefully but with astonishing rapidity round the room to the stool by thefireside, and clambered unaided into Cadfaels rusty black lap. He had aflow of words, mostly of his own invention, though now and then a sound madesudden adult sense. His mother talked to him much, so did her woman Constance,his devoted slave, and this egg of the nobility listened and made volubleresponse. Of lordly scholars, thought Cadfael, rounding his arms to cradle thesolid weight comfortably, we can never have too many. Whether he takes to thechurch or the sword, hell never be the worse for a quick and ready mind.Like a pair of hound puppies nursed in the lap, Hughs heir gave offglowing warmth, and the baked-bread scent of young and untainted flesh.

He wont sleep, said Aline, coming with a wooden tray toset it on the chest close to the fire, for he knows theressomething in the wind. Never ask me how, Ive said no word to him, but heknows. There, give him to me now, and take your meal. We may have a long wait,for theyll see all provided at the castle before ever Hugh comes tome.

It was more than an hour before Hugh came. By then Constance had whiskedaway the remains of Cadfaels supper, and carried off a droopingprinceling, who could not keep his eyes open any longer for all hiscontrivances, but slept in sprawled abandon in her arms as she lifted him. Forall Cadfaels sharp hearing, it was Aline who first pricked up her headand rose, catching the light footsteps in the doorway. Her radiant smilefaltered suddenly, for the feet trod haltingly.