'Have you thought any more on what we said, about what you will do when we return to London?'
'No, sir.' He shrugged. 'There are rogues and thieves aplenty there too.'
'Then perhaps you should live in the trees, among the birds, so that you are not soiled by contact with the world,' I said curtly. 'And now I will take some more of Brother Guy's good potion and sleep till dinner. This has been as long and hard a day as any I have known.'
CHAPTER 23
Supper in the refectory that night was a subdued affair. The abbot called on everyone to observe silence during the meal, enjoining them to pray for the soul of what he called the unknown person whose body had been found in the pond. The monks wore strained, worried expressions and I caught many fearful, anxious looks cast at me. It was as though the sense of dissolution the abbot had mentioned was already starting to pervade the entire monastery.
Mark and I walked back to the infirmary in silence; we were both exhausted, but also I sensed once again the distance that had come on Mark since I forbade him to court Alice. When we regained our room I threw myself down on my cushioned chair, while Mark put some more logs on the fire. I had told him of my encounter with Brother Edwig. My head was still abuzz with it.
'If I set Copynger about his enquiries tomorrow morning we should have an answer the day after. If even one of those land sales is confirmed, we have Edwig for fraud. And it gives him a clear motive for murder.'
Mark sat down on a pile of cushions opposite, his face alive with interest. Whatever our quarrels, he was as eager as I to catch our murderer. I wanted to test my thoughts against his wits, and also it was cheering to hear him talk enthusiastically again.
'We always come back, sir, to the fact he was away. Away when Singleton found the book and away when, the same night, he was murdered.'
'I know. Only Athelstan knew and he said he told no one else.'
'Could Athelstan be the killer?'
'Him strike off a man's head, a commissioner? No. Remember how frightened he was when he approached me to offer himself as an informer. He hasn't the courage to defy a mouse.'
'Is that not an emotional reaction to his personality?' There was a note of sarcasm in Mark's voice.
'All right. Perhaps I was carried away with the logical edifice I had built when I accused Gabriel. Yet it all seemed to fit so well. But yes, of course we must take our judgement of men's characters into account and Athelstan's is palpably weak.'
'And why should he care if Brother Edwig goes to the gallows, or even if the monastery goes down? He is hardly devout.'
'And how could he have come by that sword? I wish I could trace its history; in London I could probably discover the maker through his mark. The swordsmiths' guild would know. But we're trapped down here by this snow.'
'Sir, what if Singleton told someone else what he had found in the counting house and they decided to kill him? The abbot, perhaps. His seal would be on those deeds.'
'Yes. A seal he leaves lying on his desk, where anybody could use it while he was away.'
'Prior Mortimus, then? He's brutal enough for murder, surely? And isn't it said that he and Brother Edwig run the place?'
'Those two in a fraud together? I wonder. I must get that answer from Copynger.' I sighed. 'How long is it since we set out from London? A week? It seems a lifetime.'
'Just six days.'
'I wish I had time to go back. But even sending a message would take days in this snow. Pox on it, is it going to go on for ever?'
'It seems so.'
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