By Charles Todd
Within the ruins of Yorkshire's Fountains Abbey lies the physique of a guy wrapped in a cloak, the face lined by way of a gasoline masks. subsequent to him is a e-book on alchemy, which belongs to the schoolmaster, a conscientious objector within the nice battle. who's this guy, and is the research into his demise being manipulated by way of a thirst for revenge?
in the meantime, the British conflict place of work is looking for a lacking guy in their personal, a person whose conflict paintings used to be so mystery that even Rutledge isn't informed his genuine identify or what he did.
the hunt takes Rutledge to Berkshire, the place cottages as soon as outfitted to deal with lepers stand within the shadow of a superb white horse lower into the chalk hillside. the present population of the cottages are outcasts, too, hiding from their very own pasts. Who between them is telling the reality approximately their pals and who's twisting it?
here's a puzzle requiring all of Rutledge's bold and talent, for there are layers of lies and deception, whereas a ruthless killer is set to carry directly to freedom at any fee. And the faded horse looming overhead serves as a reminder that dying isn't complete with a person, least of the entire males who fought within the trenches of France.
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Extra info for A Pale Horse (Inspector Ian Rutledge Mystery, Book 10)
Not, however, if Radulfus could rein it in. “His own priest does not seem to have regarded William as an enemy, either within or without,” said the abbot mildly. ” said Gerbert as Serlo hesitated, dismayed and unhappy at what he had set in motion. “And be precise! ” “There were certain small points at issue,” Serlo said submissively, “as I remember it. Two in particular, besides his doubts concerning the baptism of infants. He had difficulty in comprehending the Trinity…” Who does not! thought Cadfael if it were comprehensible, all these interpreters of the good God would be out of an occupation.
We are concerned, not with what he speculated upon seven years and more ago, but with his spiritual well-being at his death. There is but one witness here who can testify as to that. ” He turned to look closely at Elave, whose face had set into controlled and conscious awareness, not of danger, but of deep offense. “Speak for your master,” said Radulfus quietly, “for you knew him to the end. ” “He was regular in observance everywhere,” said Elave, “and made his confession where he could. There was no fault found with him in any land.
Cadfael rubbed dubiously at his blunt brown nose, and thought that over for a moment in silence. “That seems to me more like the bishop of Winchester’s way of thinking than King Stephen’s,” he said warily. “So it may be. And perhaps that’s why the king is using one of Canterbury’s household for this errand, and not Winchester’s. Who’s to suspect that any motion of Henry’s mind could be lurking behind Archbishop Theobald’s hand? ” Cadfael could not well deny the truth of that. The enmity dated back five years, to the time when the archbishopric of Canterbury had been vacant, after William of Corbeil’s death, and King Stephen’s younger brother, Henry, had cherished confident pretensions to the office, which he certainly regarded as no more than his due.