Read Brother Cadfael 15: The Confession of Brother Haluin for Free Online

he gets well, for my part I would not blame him, I'd be glad of it. But penitence without penance will never be enough for Haluin. I'll hold him back as long as I can, but trust me, we shall hear of this again, as soon as he feels able to attempt it."
    "I can hardly frown upon so fitting a wish," said the abbot reasonably, "but I can forbid it until he is fit to undertake it. If it will give him peace of mind I have no right to stand in his way. It may also be of some belated comfort to this unhappy lady whose daughter died so wretchedly. I am not familiar," said Radulfus, pondering the proposed pilgrimage warily, "with this manor of Hales, though I have heard the name of de Clary. Do you know where it lies?"
    "Towards the eastern edge of the shire, Father, it must be a matter of twenty-five miles or so from Shrewsbury."
    "And this lord who was absent in the Holy Land - he can have been told nothing of the true manner of his daughter's death, if his lady went in such awe of him. It is many years past, but if he is still living this visit must not take place. It would be a very ill thing for Brother Haluin to salve his own soul by bringing further trouble and danger upon the lady of Hales. Whatever her errors, she has suffered for them."
    "For all I know, Father," Cadfael admitted, "they may both be dead some years since. I saw the place once, on the way from Lichfield on an errand for Abbot Heribert, but I know nothing of the household of de Clary."
    "Hugh Beringar will know," said the abbot confidently. "He has all the nobility of the shire at his finger ends. When he returns from Winchester we may ask him. There's no haste. Even if Haluin must have his penance, it cannot be yet. He is not yet out of his bed."
    Chapter Three
    Hugh and his escort came home four days after Epiphany. Much of the snow was gone by then, the weather grey, the days short and sombre, the nights hovering on the edge of frost, so that the thaw continued its gradual way, and there was no flooding. After such a heavy fall a rapid thaw would have seen a great mass of water coming down the river and draining from every drift, and the Severn would have backed up the Meole Brook and flooded the lower part of the fields, even if the enclave itself escaped inundation. This year they were spared that trouble, and Hugh, kicking off his boots and shrugging off his cloak in his own house by Saint Mary's Church, with his wife bringing him his furred shoes and his son clinging to his sword belt and clamouring to have his new, painted wooden knight duly admired, was able to report an easy journey for the time of year, and a satisfactory reception at court for his stewardship.
    "Though I doubt if this Christmas truce will last long," he said to Cadfael later, after acquainting the abbot with all the news from Winchester. "He's swallowed the failure at Oxford gallantly enough, but for all that, he's on his mettle for vengeance, he'll not sit still for long, winter or no. He wants Wareham back, but it's well stocked, and manned to the battlements, and Stephen never did have the patience for a siege. He'd like a fortress more to the west, to carry the war to Robert's country. There's no guessing what he'll try first. But he wants none of me or my men there in the south, he's far too wary of the earl of Chester to keep me long out of my shire. Thank God, for I'm of the same mind myself," said Hugh blithely. "And how have you been faring? Sorry I am to hear your best illuminator had a fall that all but ended him. Father Abbot told me of it. I can hardly have left you an hour, that day, when it happened. Is it true he's mending well?"
    "Better than any of us ever expected," said Cadfael, "least of all the man himself, for he was certainly bent on clearing his soul for death. But he's out of the shadow, and in a day or two we'll have him out of his bed. But his feet are crippled for life, the slates chopped them piecemeal. Brother Luke is cutting some crutches to his