Chambers of Death Read Online Free PDF

the intercession of more than one virtuous soul to save us.”
    With exaggerated caution, the young man eased his way around Ranulf’s wife.
    She drew back, flattening her back against the door frame as if the mere touch of his robe would defile her virtue.
    “There is some bread and a piece of cheese over there, Master Huet.” The cook pointed to the table at the far end of the kitchen. Confirming that Mistress Constance could not see her do so, she winked broadly at him.
    “Beware, Brother, for my elder brother’s beloved spouse weighs every mortal on her own scale of holiness. Prioress Eleanor’s reputation has proven her to be most worthy, but you may have to spend many hours enduring her scrutiny before she deems you equal in respect.
    “I honor my betters, something you might learn to do yourself,” Constance barked.
    Huet glanced heavenward and tore off some fresh bread, which he began to munch with unmistakable contentment.
    “And my husband shall hear of your impertinence to me,” Constance spat. “As for you, Hilda, attend your duties or you may find we no longer need your poor service.” With that, she spun around and marched back to the manor house.
    Huet dropped the bread and stretched his hand out to the cook. “I did not mean to cause trouble,” he said, his voice soft with concern.
    With a smile akin to that of an adoring mother, Hilda shook her head. “She’s threatened to push me out the gate almost daily since she married your brother. Hasn’t yet done so, as you can see.” She turned to Thomas with a sheepish look. “I suffer from sinful pride, Brother, and believe there are few who do as well at my task with as much of an eye to cost. Master Stevyn and his first wife were kind enough to say so, and their guests often expressed satisfaction with the meals.”
    “Pride is sinful only when it exceeds merit,” Thomas replied. “I would say that soup proves you are innocent of any excess.”
    The young man laughed. “If you be a priest, Brother, you must take my confession. Methinks any penance you’d require would be as gentle as your speech.”
    “And I would guess that you have some experience of priests?” Thomas replied, gazing with pointed interest at the man’s head.
    Huet instinctively stretched a hand over a slight indentation in his hair and flushed in silence.
    The cook sat down on the bench and clutched the young man’s arm with protective affection. “Whatever has happened, I cannot think he is at fault. A mischief, he might be, but he’s a good lad at heart,” she protested.
    “I did not mean to suggest otherwise.”
    “The good monk knows no one in this place, Hilda.” The man patted her hand. “There is no need to defend before any accusation has been made.”
    Jerking her head toward the kitchen door, the cook frowned. “Your sister-in-law suggested enough, lad, and others might also speak harshly of you with just as little cause. Softer words in a stranger’s ear first are never amiss.”
    “Nor are honest ones.” Huet turned back to the monk, all merriment dismissed from his expression. “In truth, I took no final vows, Brother. The tonsure has nearly grown out, and a falcon would be jealous of your keen eyes in noticing it.”
    “As guest in this manor, I have no cause to pry. That would be poor thanks for charitable hospitality.” Thomas reached his hand out in peace.
    Huet took it.
    Thomas concluded he could do worse than to respect the cook’s good opinion of the steward’s younger son.
    Content that the monk had no wish to condemn her favored lad, Hilda pushed herself from the table. “Then I must find enough chickens for the evening meal, lest Mistress Constance complain next that I am starving the master’s guests.” With that, she departed to seek some aged hens.
    “Will you share this with me, Brother?” Huet gestured at what was left of the round loaf. “There is ale as well, and that cheese is dry enough to cry out for