‘Daniel? You’re sure it was he?’ That young man had been very prompt and present this afternoon, as soon as the usual idlers saw a body being lifted ashore under the bridge. Very prompt and very forward to lead the accusers who made haste to fling this, like the other offences, on the stranger’s head, reason or no reason, sanctuary or no sanctuary.
‘Oh, yes, there’s no mistaking him.’ He was surprised that such a point should be made of it. ‘Is it important?’
‘It may be. But no matter now. One thing you haven’t said,’ pointed out Cadfael gravely, ‘and yet I’m sure you are not so dull but you must have thought on it. Once you were out of here and no alarm, and the night before you, you might have made off many miles from here, and got clean away from your accusers. Were you not tempted?’
‘So she prompted me, too,’ said Liliwin, remembering, and smiled. ‘She urged me to go while I could.’
‘Why did you not?’
Because she did not truly want me to, thought Liliwin, with a joyful lift of the heart for all his burdens. And because if ever she does come to me, it shall not be to an accused felon, but to a man acknowledged honest before the world. Aloud he voiced only the heart of that revelationary truth: ‘Because now I won’t go without her. When I leave - if I leave - I shall take Rannilt with me.’
Chapter Eight
Wednesday
Hugh sought out Cadfael after chapter the next morning for a brief conference in his workshop in the herbarium.
‘They’re all in a tale,’ said Hugh, leaning back with a cup of Cadfael’s latest-broached wine under the rustling bunches of last year’s harvest of herbs. ‘All insistent that this death must be linked to what happened at the young fellow’s wedding feast. But since they’re all of them obsessed with money, their money - except, perhaps, the daughter, who curls her lip very expressively but says little, and certainly nothing against her kin - they can think of nothing but their grievance and every other man must be as intent on it as they are. Yet there’s profit and profit, and this locksmith’s business does very nicely for itself, and now there’s no kith nor kin to take it over, and it seems to be common knowledge the man had commended his journeyman to take the shop over after him. This young Boneth has been doing most of the work now above two years, he deserves he should get the credit. As right and virtuous a young man as ever I saw, to all appearances, but who’s to be sure he didn’t get tired of waiting? And we’d best bear in mind another truth - it was Baldwin Peche made the lock and keys for that strong-box of Aurifaber’s.’
‘There’s a boy runs the errands and sleeps there in the shop,’ said Cadfael. ‘Has he ought to say?’
‘The dark boy, the simpleton? I wouldn’t say his memory goes back farther than a day or so, but he’s positive his master did not come back to his shop after he looked in at mid-morning, the day before he was fished out of the Severn. They were used to his absences by day, but the boy was anxious when there was no return at twilight. He didn’t sleep. I would take his word for it there was no disturbance, no prowling about that burgage during the night. Nor are we the nearer knowing just when the man died, though the night would seem to be when he was set adrift, and the boat, too. There was no overturned coracle sighted down the Severn during the day - either day.’
‘You’ll be going back there, I suppose,’ said Cadfael. There had been very little time the previous day for hunting out all the neighbours to testify. ‘I’ve an errand there myself to the old dame tomorrow, but no occasion to go that way today. Give an eye for me to the little Welsh girl, will you, see in what spirits she is, and whether they’re being rough or smooth with her.’
Hugh cocked a smiling eye at him. ‘Your countrywoman, is she? To judge by the way I heard her singing away about her pot-scouring, last night, she’s in good enough heart.’
‘Singing, was she?’ That would come as very welcome news to that draggled sparrow in his sanctuary cage here. Evidently no hardship more than normal had fallen upon Rannilt for her day of freedom. ‘Good, that answers me very properly. And, Hugh, if you’ll take a nudge from me without asking any questions as to where I picked up the scent - probe around as to whether anyone on that street saw Daniel Aurifaber slipping out in the dark an hour past Compline, when he should have been snug in bed with his bride.’
Hugh turned his black head sharply, and gave his friend a long and quizzical look. ‘That night?’
‘That night.’
‘Three days married!’ Hugh grimaced and laughed. ‘I’d heard the young man has the name for it. But I take your meaning. There may be other reasons for leaving a new wife to lie cold.’
‘When I spoke with him,’ said Cadfael, ‘he made no secret of it that he heartily disliked the locksmith. Though had his dislike had a solid core, and gone as far as congealing into hate, I think he might have been less voluble about it.’
“I’ll bear that in mind, too. Tell me, Cadfael,’ said Hugh, eyeing him shrewdly, ‘how strong is the scent you got wind of? Say I find no such witness - no second such witness, ought I to say? - shall I be justified in wagering on the accuracy of your nose?’
‘In your shoes,’ said Cadfael cheerfully, ‘I would.’
‘You seem to have found your witness in very short order,’ remarked Hugh drily, ‘and without leaving the precinct. So you got it out of him - whatever it was that had him choking on a simple lie. I thought you would.’ He rose, grinning, and set down his cup. I’ll take your confession later, I’m away now to see what I can get out of the new wife.’ He clouted Cadfael amiably on the shoulder in passing, and looked back from the doorway. ‘No need to fret for that weedy lad of yours, I’m coming round to your opinion. I doubt if he ever did worse in his life than sneak a few apples from an orchard.’
The journeyman, Iestyn, was working alone in the shop, repairing the broken clasp of a bracelet, when Hugh came to the Aurifaber burgage. It was the first time Hugh had spoken with this man alone, and in company Iestyn kept himself silent and apart. Either he was taciturn by nature, thought Hugh, or the family had taken care to make his status clear to him, and it was not theirs, and there should be no stepping over the line that divided them.
In answer to Hugh’s question he shook his head, smiling and hoisting impassive shoulders.
‘How would I see what goes on in the street after dark or who’s on the prowl when decent folks are in bed? I sleep in the back part of the undercroft, beneath the rear of the hall, my lord. Those outside stairs go down to my bed, as far from the lane as you can get. I neither see nor hear anything from there.’
Hugh had already noted the stairs that dived below the house at the rear, a shallow flight, since the ground dropped steadily away from the street level, and the undercroft, completely below-ground at the street end, was half above-ground at the back. From there, certainly, a man would be cut off from the world outside.
‘At what hour did you go there, two nights ago?’
Iestyn knotted his thick black brows and considered. ‘I’m always early, having to rise early. I reckon about eight that night, as soon as my supper had settled.’
‘You had no late errands to do? Nothing that took you out again after that?’
‘No, my lord.’
‘Tell me, Iestyn,’ said Hugh on impulse, ‘are you content in your work here? With Master Walter and his family? You have fair treatment, and a good relationship?’
‘One that suits me well enough,’ said Iestyn cautiously. ‘My wants are simple, I make no complaint. I never doubt time will bring me my due. First to earn it.’