[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

or ever. She pulled the sacking tighter over her shoulders, and
took a step away from him.
Falconer hastened to explain before she decided the money
wasn t worth the trouble.
 Where would the prior send a monk who had incurred his
wrath? A solitary cell somewhere where the culprit is out of harm s
way, but not so far away that he cannot be controlled.
 That s simple. There s a cave above Thurston Water on Bethecar
Moor. Whoever you are seeking will be there.
101
 How far is it?
Ellen cocked her head to one side as she estimated the journey.
 It will take us all day to get there and back.
Falconer produced a coin from his pouch.  Will you take me?
As they climbed higher the weather improved, and they emerged
from the mist that had hung in the river valley. At first Ellen
had taken Falconer along the bank of the River Craik, travelling
due north. The grey mist, hardly distinguishable from the turbid
stream that ran at their side, still reminded Falconer of his
near-drowning. Images of struggling to walk at the bottom of the
ocean flitted through his mind, especially when they passed the
location of the ironworks on the opposite bank. The murderous
thump of the trip-hammers echoed dully through the mist, like
some dying man s heartbeat. The thought of one of them
descending on poor Lutt s head made Falconer shudder. He saw
the sound had had the same effect on the woman, whose
shoulders tightened until they were out of earshot of the
unnatural noise. He literally breathed a sigh of relief as they
came out of the mist, like a lost sailor pushing his head above
the waves and gasping for air.
Now the sun began to break through the heavy clouds, and
Falconer almost skipped across the stones where they forded
the river. The higher they got the more the land opened up before
them, until finally a magnificent vista of snow-topped mountains
was visible rising beyond the sparkling sheet that was Thurston
Water. Even Ellen Shokburn appeared moved by the sight. Her
normally cold features melted into a fleeting smile, as though
she were presenting something she owned for admiration. The
thought seemed perfectly appropriate to Falconer, for the land
might belong to the priory, but not the view and the sense of
place. Only those who truly lived in it, and with it, could be said
to possess that.
He looked at the woman to share his joy, but the transitory
pleasure she had revealed was gone. The permanent veil of hard
purpose was drawn over her eyes again.
 You didn t tell me whom you were seeking here.
 Brother Thady. I fear his rantings finally became too much for
the prior.
Falconer thought there was a flicker of fear in Ellen s eyes
when he mentioned Lamport s name, but he could not be sure.
The woman remained in strict control of her feelings. Still, he
102
could understand it if she did not relish the company of someone
as odd as Thady Lamport. His peculiar behaviour might seem on
the verge of violence to some, though Falconer doubted that it
would ever turn in that direction.
 Where should I go, then?
She raised her arm and pointed ahead of them.  The cell you
want is at the top of this rise, just beyond that rock there  the
one that sticks out like a finger. I will wait here for you. She sat
down on a flat spur of rock, and stared off over the lake.
Falconer nodded, and continued along the narrow path leading
round the crag. Scrambling over the rocky outcrop that Ellen had
pointed out, he was suddenly struck hard on the chest. He gasped
and looked around, rubbing the sore spot where the blow had
landed. No one was in sight, but looking down he saw a stone
the size of a fist lying at his feet. From the corner of his eye he
was aware of a movement in the jumble of rocks to his right, and
he instinctively ducked. Another large stone whistled over his
head. This time it was accompanied by a hoarse cry.
 Get away, demon.
Falconer ducked behind a large rock as a third stone flew past
him. He called out.  Brother Thady, it s me, William Falconer 
the visitor at the priory. I want to talk to you.
 You re the devil s spawn. Go away. This imprecation was hurled
at Falconer along with another stone.
 Please. I want to talk to you about John de Langetoft. I need
your help.
There was a pause in the rain of rocks, and cautiously Falconer
raised his head. He could see Thady Lamport standing in the
mouth of a dark and gloomy cave. He had stripped down to a
simple loincloth, and his pale, stringy body was outlined by the
blackness behind it. Falconer was reminded of Fridaye de
Schipedham, and wondered if this remote land called people back
to their elemental nature, and away from civilization. Travellers
were said to have encountered giants and people with a single
eye in the middle of their chest at the edges of the world. The
tales did not surprise Falconer now.
The monk dropped the stone he was holding in his hand, and
stepped into the darkness of the cave. Falconer clambered over
the rocks and, hesitating for a moment at the cave mouth, followed
Lamport in. Once his eyes had adjusted to the gloom, he saw
that the cell was truly spartan. Beyond the narrow arch of the
entrance, the cave opened out into a large vaulted space. Damp
103
stains dribbled down the face of the rock in several places. In
one corner was a natural hearth below the funnel of a fissure in
the rock that ran upwards like a chimney. There was no fire lit.
Opposite the hearth a flat slab of rock projected from the side
of the cave. It served Thady as a bed, but the coldness of its
surface was alleviated only by a thin mattress. In the rear of the
cave stood a pile of jars and greasy cloths that no doubt contained
Lamport s supply of food. The monk himself sat cross-legged on
the rocky slab, illuminated by a single candle at his side that
had been burning for a long time, judging by the spikes of wax
that hung down from the edge of the slab. Thady Lamport s eyes
burned feverishly, and his face was even more skull-like than
when Falconer had last seen him in the priory. He was mumbling
something under his breath that Falconer could not catch  a
phrase repeated time and again in time to the rocking of his
body.
The cell felt chill and Falconer wondered if Lamport ever lit the
fire to ease his discomfort. He leaned over the ashes, and felt
them. They were cold and damp. He enquired if he should gather
some sticks together, and the reaction was immediate.
 Leave it. If Adam Lutt can endure without a fire, then I shall
too.
Falconer refrained from saying that Adam Lutt no longer had
need of earthly fires to warm him. He stared as Lamport continued
to rock his scrawny frame in silence. Then suddenly the monk
stopped, and the words poured out of his mouth.
 You wanted to know about John de Langetoft. I will tell you.
John de Langetoft broke his vows. Broke them, yes. He is a sinner,
only interested in himself. A sinner  yes, a sinner. He must not
become prior. He must be stopped.
Falconer put his hand on the monk s bare arm, and felt the
taut tendons stretched almost to breaking point. He whispered
gently in his ear.  Brother Thady, John de Langetoft is long dead.
He cannot become prior.
 Dead? The conundrum puzzled Lamport.
 Yes, dead. He died fifteen years ago  I think you know that,
don t you? I saw the drawing in the book catalogue that you made.
Brother, did you  stop him  did you kill him?
Deep pain registered in the monk s eyes, and he thundered a
warning.  Thou shalt not kill. Thou shalt not kill.
Falconer lurched back at the verbal onslaught. He would have
to be careful, or he could tip the dangerously deranged monk into
104
a state in which no information would be forthcoming at all. He
tried a different approach.
 What sort of man was de Langetoft?
Before the monk could reply, Falconer thought he heard a
rustling at the entrance to the cave. Maybe Ellen had decided to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]