The prior finished, “The last time ye came was on Michaelmas.I remember that.”
“Aye, for Sir Patric,” Peris recalled.“That was a big one.”
The prior gave him a sharp look.“His…size…is no doubt what led to his demise.”
“Och.”The physician nodded.“Aye.”
Hew would have to compare the dates of the physician’s visits with the dates of the objects’ disappearances.
He glanced down toward the stable.The lady was gone now.He saw the trailing hem of her gown disappear between two holly bushes.The squirrel, its belly full, was skittering across the stable roof, probably on its way back to the forest.
He furrowed his brows.The lass shouldn’t have fed the creature.Now it would return, expecting more.And one of these days, if she didn’t have a morsel to give it, it would likely take a bite out of her hand.
“Is that all?”Peris asked.
He looked over at the physician, who was sweating as if he thought Hew might grab his axe and behead him at any moment.
“For now.”He didn’t have anything else to ask the physician.Not yet.
He might return if the dates seemed to coincide.But he felt like Brother Cathal or Father James were more likely suspects.Their visits were scheduled.They had plenty of time to plan a robbery.They didn’t have to rely on someone falling ill.
“Carenza!There ye are.”
Carenza nearly jumped out of her skin.She hastily nudged the squirrel away from her.It skittered under the holly bush.Then she rose to greet her father, dusting the dirt from her skirts.
“We should have plenty o’ holly boughs for Yuletide,” she proclaimed, as if she’d been inspecting the holly and not feeding a wee wild beast a few oatcake crumbs out of the palm of her hand.
“Ah.Good.”Then he sighed.It was a sigh of mild disappointment.“I wish I’d found ye earlier.”
She hated disappointing him.“Why?What’s happened?”
“Ye missed our guest.”
“Guest?What guest?”She’d been too busy feeding her squirrels to notice anyone’s arrival.
He gave her a smug grin.“None other than a warrior o’ Rivenloch.”
Rivenloch.She thought she knew the name.But not as well as her father apparently did.She pretended to be impressed.“Rivenloch?Really?Here?”
“I know,” her father said, his eyes gleaming.“And he’s stayin’ at the monastery.”
“Ah.”Why a warrior would be staying at a monastery, she couldn’t guess.
“But ye’ll be glad to know I’ve invited him to supper.”
“Tonight?”She was absolutely not glad to know that.First, his timing was awful.She had to finalize her plans tonight.And second, why was it men always expected a woman could whip up a special supper for guests with a snap of her fingers?
“Nay, not tonight,” he said.“Sadly, he had to return to the monastery.”
Sadly for her father.Carenza was relieved.“Another time then.”
“As soon as possible.”
Carenza smiled, but she was doing calculations in her head.She needed to be sure nothing conflicted with her scheme.And a supper guest sounded like a conflict.
“He’s cousin to Sir Gellir, the tournament champion,” he told her.
“Ah.”That name sounded familiar.Her father may have mentioned it before.But he followed tournament contestants.She did not.
