Brother Cadfael 08: The Devil's Novice by Ellis Peters Page B

of Cadfael he came bounding down from the headland to the sunken track, and having no cap to doff, gave him a very graceful inclination of his fair head and a blithe: 'Good-day, brother! Are you bound for us?'
    'If by any chance your name is Nigel Aspley,' said Cadfael, halting to return the airy greeting, 'then indeed I am.'
    But this could hardly be the elder son who had five or six years the advantage of Meriet, he was too young, of too markedly different a colouring and build, long and slender and blue-eyed, with rounded countenance and ready smile. A little more red in the fair hair, which had the elusive greenish-yellow of oak leaves just budded in spring, or just turning in autumn, and he could have provided the lock that Meriet had cherished in his bed.
    'Then we're out of luck,' said the young man gracefully, and made a pleasant grimace of disappointment. 'Though you'd still be welcome to halt at home for a rest and a cup, if you have the leisure for it? For I'm only a Linde, not an Aspley, and my name is Janyn.'
    Cadfael recalled what Hugh had told him of Meriet's replies to Canon Eluard. The elder brother was affianced to the daughter of the neighbouring manor; and that could only be a Linde, since he had also mentioned without much interest the foster-sister who was a Foriet, and heiress to the manor that bordered Aspley on the southern side. Then this personable and debonair young creature must be a brother of Nigel's prospective bride.
    'That's very civil of you,' said Cadfael mildly, 'and I thank you for the goodwill, but I'd best be getting on about my business. For I think I must have only a mile or so still to go.'
    'Barely that, sir, if you take the left-hand path below here where it forks. Through the copse, and you're into their fields, and the track will bring you straight to their gate. If you're not in haste I'll walk with you and show you.'
    Cadfael was more than willing. Even if he learned little from his companion about this cluster of manors all productive of sons and daughters of much the same age, and consequently brought up practically as one family, yet the companionship itself was pleasant. And a few useful grains of knowledge might be dropped like seed, and take root for him. He let the mule amble gently, and Janyn Linde fell in beside him with a long, easy stride.
    'You'll be from Shrewsbury, brother?' Evidently he had his share of human curiosity. 'Is it something concerning Meriet? We were shaken, I can tell you, when he made up his mind to take the cowl, and yet, come to think, he went always his own ways, and would follow them. How did you leave him? Well, I hope?'
    'Passably well,' said Cadfael cautiously. 'You must know him a deal better than we do, as yet, being neighbours, and much of an age.'
    'Oh, we were all raised together from pups, Nigel, Meriet, my sister and me-especially after both our mothers died-and Isouda, too, when she was left orphan, though she's younger. Meriet's our first loss from the clan, we miss him.'
    'I hear there'll be a marriage soon that will change things still more,' said Cadfael, fishing delicately.
    'Roswitha and Nigel?' Janyn shrugged lightly and airily. 'It was a match our fathers planned long ago - but if they hadn't, they'd have had to come round to it, for those two made up their own minds almost from children. If you're bound for Aspley you'll find my sister somewhere about the place. She's more often there than here, now. They're deadly fond!'
    He sounded tolerantly amused, as brothers still unsmitten frequently are by the eccentricities of lovers. Deadly fond! Then if the red-gold hair had truly come from Roswitha's head, surely it had not been given? To a besotted younger brother of her bridegroom? Clipped on the sly, more likely, and the ribbon stolen. Or else it came, after all, from some very different girl.
    'Meriet's mind took another way,' said Cadfael, trailing his line. 'How did his father take it when he chose the cloister? I think were