By Ellis Peters
It really is Christmas, A.D. 1141, Abbot Radulfus returns from London, bringing with him a clergyman for the vacant residing of Holy move, often referred to as the Foregate. the recent priest is a guy of presence, studying, and self-discipline, yet he lacks humility and the typical contact. while he's stumbled on drowned within the fishpond, suspicion is forged upon a tender guy who arrived with the priest's educate and used to be despatched to paintings in Brother Cadfael's backyard. certainly, he's quickly found to be an impostor. To Brother Cadfael, now falls the popular job of checking out the complex strands of innocence and guilt.
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Additional resources for The Raven in the Foregate (Brother Cadfael Mystery #12)
Me among them, as his sheriff here for want of a better. What he’ll do with his freedom remains to be seen. They say he’s in good health and resolute spirits, if that means anything. ” “My son, I trust he’ll have the good sense to leave well alone. For here,” said Radulfus, “we have at least preserved what good we can, and by the present measure in this unhappy realm, it is well with this shire. But I doubt whatever he does else can only mean more fighting and more wretchedness for England. ” After dinner in the refectory Brother Cadfael made his way across the great court, rounded the thick, dark mass of the box hedge—grown straggly now, he noted, and ripe for a final clipping before growth ceased in the cold—and entered the moist flower gardens, where leggy roses balanced at a man’s height on their thin, leafless stems, and still glowed with invincible light and life.
Though a man of few words himself, he was disposed, as a rule, to allow plenty of scope to those who were rambling and loquacious about their requests and suggestions, but on this day, plainly, he had more urgent matters on his mind. “I must tell you,” he said, when he had swept the last trifle satisfactorily into its place, “that I shall be leaving you for some days to the care of Father Prior, to whom, I expect and require, you shall be as obedient and helpful as you are to me. I am summoned to a council to be held at Westminster on the seventh day of this month, by the Holy Father’s legate, Henry of Blois, bishop of Winchester.
Benet had come a few paces more into the hut, and was looking about him with curiosity and mild awe at the array of bottles, jars and flagons that furnished Brother Cadfael’s shelves, the rustling bunches of herbs that sighed overhead in the faint stirrings of air from the open door, the small brass scales, the three mortars, the single gently bubbling wine-jar, the little wooden bowls of medicinal roots, and a batch of small white lozenges drying on a marble slab. His round-eyed, open-mouthed stare spoke for him.
The Raven in the Foregate (Brother Cadfael Mystery #12) by Ellis Peters