A Murder for Mistress Cwen (The Chronicles of Brother Hermitage Book 10) by of Warwick Howard

Author:of Warwick, Howard
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Funny Book Company
Published: 2017-10-26T13:00:00+00:00

Caput IX

Family!

Hermitage looked from one woman to the other and could see some similarities. He supposed that it was possible that this new arrival was Cwen’s mother. Of course, the fact that Cwen had called her mother was a helpful clue. He felt a tug on his sleeve as Wat gently guided him away from the encounter.

‘Just think,’ he whispered in Hermitage’s ear. ‘Cwen and Cwen senior.’

Hermitage saw the point and took an extra step back.

‘Quite the family reunion.’ Wat fell silent at Cwen’s glance.

‘I’ve come looking.’ Cwen the elder replied, with a stare that matched her daughter’s.

‘Looking for what?’ Cwen demanded.

‘Your father.’

That did break Cwen’s trance. ‘My father?’

‘Your father.’

‘What do you want him for? You never bothered the rest of my life. Why now all of a sudden?’

‘Quite simple really. I’m going to kill him.’

Hermitage’s urge to step forward and offer the very latest pertinent information on this topic was controlled by the natural reluctance to step between their Cwen and an older, more experienced version.

‘Kill him?’ Cwen scoffed. ‘What, put a knife in him, or a sword or beat him to death. Really? Actual murder?’

Hermitage was pleased that some of his teaching was working.

‘Well,’ mother Cwen dropped her eyes. ‘Perhaps not actually kill him but he’ll wish he was dead.’

Definitely Cwen’s mother then.

‘And why after all these years do you want to kill him now? And why here?’

‘Because this is where I heard he’d come.’

‘And you followed? We must be a hundred miles from Arundel. You told me there were devils in the next the valley and I’d be captured and burned in hell if I so much as went five miles.’

‘You were only a baby.’

Hermitage was starting to see where Cwen got it from. Quite a lot of it, anyway.

‘And you expect me to believe you have just tramped half the length of the country because you’ve suddenly got a bit annoyed with him? Why the interest? You never even told me who he was. Now you turn up in my house asking for him?’

‘Your house?’

‘Yes. The place I live.’

‘With Wat the Weaver?’

‘At least I chose to be here. I didn’t get sold to Briston, who was twice as bad, if you’re at all interested.’

The woman now looked to Hermitage and Wat. ‘I gave her a chance no other women get, and this is all my thanks?’

Hermitage and Wat both looked back trying to make it very clear that they wanted absolutely nothing to do with this.

‘Gratitude?’ Cwen shrieked a bit. ‘You want gratitude. From me? It’s you should be thankful. All those years of work I did for you and what did I get? Sold off to the first passing weaver who offered you a week’s wage. What sort of mother does that?’ Cwen threw the question at the two men who did their level best to avoid it. A few non-committal shrugs and sympathetic yet hopeless looks seemed to do the trick.

‘And you turn up here asking where my father is. How would I know? He could walk right by me and I wouldn’t recognise him.

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