Page 26 of Laird of Flint
“Where else?” Hew said.
“The cloister.”
“The cloister. Why?”
“To fetch water from the well.”
Hew nodded. “Go on.”
Peris continued trying to recall all the places he’d gone.
Meanwhile, the creature Carenza was feeding scampered onto her lap. He could see now it was a squirrel. How she’d convinced the wild thing to let her feed it by hand he couldn’t fathom. But she was playing a dangerous game. If it bit her…
“I think that’s all,” Peris concluded.
Hew hadn’t really been listening. But it was clear Peris basically had access to the entire monastery. After all, a monk could fall ill in any quarter of Kildunan.
“Do you know on which days you’ve come to the monastery?” Hew asked.
“The days?” Peris chewed at his lip.
“’Tis all right if ye don’t remember exactly,” the prior said. “Ye’ve been comin’ to the monastery for a long while now.”
“Aye,” Peris said. “Nigh a year.”
Hew frowned. A year wasn’t that long. And the thefts had taken place within the last year. “What days do you remember?”
“I remember the first time was a few days after Candlemas. I was there just before Beltane and sometime in midsummer…”
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.”
