Restoration by Guy Adams Page A

phrases. The old man nodded a couple of times and then seemed to sink inside his gown, retreating into his silk shelter to think. After a few moments he began to speak, Kusang talking over him once the abbot had a head start, translating to Ashe and Walsingham.
    Â Â "Dhuru is a place of peace and contemplation," he said. Kusang's voice was toneless, the words meant nothing to him, he was just their vehicle. "It is not intended for those outside our faith, and yet it is due to our faith that we took you in. We believe in treating others with respect and consideration. Even now, I am between two ideals, to offer you protection or to banish you for the safety of my brothers."
    Â Â "It seems you are not willing to consider the possibility that the culprit was one of your monks." Walsingham interrupted.
    Â Â Kusang stared at him, blatant disgust in his eyes. He was not a man who felt the need to hide his feelings. He knew how much Walsingham needed him. After holding Walsingham's eye contact for a moment, he turned over his shoulder and talked to the abbot. The abbot inclined his head as if to let the words in more easily, giving a slight nod once he understood. There was silence for a moment and then he replied.
    Â Â "No, the abbot isn't willing to consider that possibility," Kusang said. "If there is violence within the corridors of Dhuru then you have brought it with you."
    Â Â "As long as he's being completely reasonable…" Walsingham sighed. "This is clearly a waste of time. We're to be labelled the aggressors regardless of evidence."
    Â Â "The abbot understands why you may wish to look to strangers to explain things – the bird always looks outside its own nest for danger – but sooner or later he fears you may have to accept the threat that comes from within."
    Â Â Dear God, thought Ashe, the man was turning into a cliché… this was a waste of everyone's time. "I think you're right," he said to Walsingham, "this meeting's pointless."
    Â Â "With your holiness' permission," Walsingham said, "it is clear that we have little to discuss until more evidence can be unearthed."
    Â Â Kusang passed this on and the abbot nodded, waving a small hand graciously towards the main doors.
    Â Â "Our audience is clearly at an end," said Ashe, bowing towards the abbot and marching out of the room, Walsingham directly behind him. They walked quickly, only too happy to leave Kusang behind, having had more than enough of the man's company.
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6.
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    In the courtyard the wind was howling now, utterly unrestrained and out to do some damage. Ashe glanced at his watch before realising that such a modern timepiece was likely to raise eyebrows if seen by the others. He tugged his cuff back over it. Five and a half hours left before his return train. Not long. But then he hadn't these complications. There was a lesson to be learned here: he should never assume that these visits would be simple, there was no accounting for the problems of others.
    Â Â Back in the stables the smell of food was wrestling with the scent of the horses. A large iron pot was bubbling in the corner of the room. Helen listlessly stirred at its contents while the major polished his rifle.
    Â Â "He cleans the damn thing more often than himself," Walsingham muttered as he and Ashe entered. "The man's obsessed."
    Â Â "Let's hope we don't end up being glad of the fact before the night's out," Ashe replied.
    Â Â "Let me guess," said Helen, looking up from her cooking, "the abbot wishes no part of it?"
    Â Â "You are, as ever, correct my dear," Walsingham sighed. "He refuses to consider for one moment that the attacker is one of his brethren."
    Â Â Helen shrugged, she had expected nothing else. "He was never going to take any responsibility, we are here under sufferance. I dare say they will be quick to evict us now."
    Â Â Walsingham nodded. "He did hint as much."
    Â Â "One can hardly blame