Trinity Read Online Free PDF Page B

that miserable estate. Derry cleared his throat, stifling a cough that he’d developed somewhere in the wet and cold.
    ‘Brother Peter, might I have a word with you?’ he said.
    The leader of their little group turned back immediately, his expression placid.
    ‘Of course, Derry,’ he said.
    The older man’s lips were blue. Derry thought again of the fat purse tucked warm against his testicles.
    ‘I … um … I won’t be going on with you,’ Derry said, looking down at his feet rather than witness the disappointment he knew would be there in the monk’s face. ‘There’s a man I must meet at the castle. I’ll be stopping there for a time.’
    ‘Ah,’ Brother Peter replied. ‘Well, Derry, you’ll go with God’s blessing at least.’
    To Derry’s surprise, the older man reached out and placed his hand on the sore skin of his crown, bowing his head with gentle pressure. He endured it, strangely moved by the old man’s faith as Brother Peter called on Saint Christopher and Saint Francis to guide him in his travels and trials ahead.
    ‘Thank you, Brother Peter. It has been an honour.’
    The older man smiled at him then, letting his hand fall away.
    ‘I just hope those you seek to avoid have the sun in their eyes, Derry. I will pray that they are as blind as Saul of Tarsus when you pass by.’
    Derry blinked at him in surprise, making Brother Peter chuckle.
    ‘Not many of those who join us insist on a tonsure after just a day or two on the road, Derry. Still, I dare say it did you no harm, despite Brother John’s roughness with the blade.’
    Derry stared at him, amused despite his discomforts.
    ‘I did wonder, Brother, how it is that some of you have a circle no more than three fingers wide on your pates, while I seem to have been shaved right down to the ears.’
    Brother Peter’s dark eyes glinted then.
    ‘That was my decision, Derry. I thought if a man was so very keen to have a tonsure, we should perhaps indulge his desire to the utmost. Forgive me, my son, if you would.’
    ‘Of course, Brother Peter. You have brought me here safe and well.’
    On impulse, Derry hitched up his robe and reached deeply inside the folds, bringing out his purse. He pressed it into Brother Peter’s hands, folding the fingers over the damp leather.
    ‘This is for you. There’s enough there to keep you all for a month, or longer.’
    Brother Peter weighed the purse thoughtfully, then held it out.
    ‘God provides, Derry, always. Take it back, though your kindness is touching.’
    Derry shook his head, backing away with his hands raised.
    ‘It’s yours, Brother Peter, please.’
    ‘All right, all right,’ the older man said, tucking it away. ‘I’m sure we’ll find a use for it, or someone with a greater need than our own. Go with God, Derry. Who knows, there might come a time when you decide to walk with us for longer than just a couple of days. I will pray for it. Come, brothers, the rain is starting once more.’
    Each one of the group came to grip Derry’s hand and wish him well, even Silent Godwin, who crushed his hand in his big fist and patted Derry on the shoulder, still bowed down by the grindstone on his back.
    Derry stood alone in the street at the top of the hill by the castle, watching the group of friars make their slow way down. It was true the rain was falling again and he shivered, turning towards the gatehouse of the royal fortress. He had a strong sense of eyes on him and he moved into a trot, heading into the shelter of the walls and approaching the dark figure of the guard on duty. Derry squinted in the gloom as he drew closer. The man was drenched to the skin just as he was, standing there in all weathers with his poleaxe and bell to sound an alarm.
    ‘Good evening, my son,’ Derry said, raising his hand to make the sign of the cross in the air.
    The guard looked at him.
    ‘You’re not allowed to beg here, Father,’ the guard said gruffly, adding, ‘sorry,’ after a moment’s