Free The Dragon of Handale by Cassandra Clark Page B

through the enclosure wall so the prioress can have her grand entrance. She wants a wall round her enclave so she can have the privacy of her own garden. And”—he grimaced—“to keep her safe from the wild beast of Handale, of course. It’ll be a neat little setup.”
    “Plenty of work for you to be getting on with.”
    “Nice profit for our master. Carola’s working on carvings for the corbels, along of me. Matt works in wood, as you saw. We tell him it’s because he’s soft. Riling him, like. He knows we mean it in jest, poor sot.”
    For all his attempt to be cheerful, he had a sad expression. He looked up at the opening above their heads. Rain was beginning to spot down. The stone pavers at their feet were soon wet. He gave an openly wistful smile. “Are things well with you inside that place?”
    “Not well, no,” she admitted. “I’m troubled by one or two matters, which is partly why I wanted to speak to you this morning.” She told him about the young novice whose inheritance was at risk, although she made no reference to the intruder in her chamber. “I need to leave the priory for a few hours but have no wish to draw attention to the fact. There must be a way in other than the main gate and that little track through the woods? How do the nuns obtain their necessities? That path I came by looked rarely used.”
    “There’s the beck. They use a boat.”
    Hildegard frowned.
    “It comes now and then with stuff they can’t grow or provide. Not often, though. They seem to provide everything they need for themselves.”
    “Have you any idea what’s going on in there?” she asked abruptly, gesturing towards the enclosure wall.
    Dakin shook his head. “Is anything going on?” He eyed her closely.
    “I think so.”
    “We’re forbidden to enter—except now we’re allowed to mourn for Giles in their mortuary. They’re a secretive lot. They hate anybody from outside. I can see that. I’m amazed they allow guests.”
    “Maybe they had no choice?” She was ignorant of what strings might have been pulled from Swyne and from the archbishop’s palace to get her in here. It was already dawning on her that until she found out why, she would have to stay.
    She had another question for Dakin. “Do you think Giles’s murder has anything to do with the priory?”
    “I wondered that. But why? It doesn’t make sense.”
    “Could he have stumbled on some secret?”
    “He said nowt to me if he did.”
    “Can you tell me, have any of you been back to the place where he was found?”
    He shook his head. “It may seem we’re lackadaisical, but we work hard during daylight hours. They’re short enough at this time of year and our lady prioress wants a deal of fancy decoration in her new house. It’s exactly the sort of thing to keep us busy. At night, when our time’s our own, I doubt any of us would dare set foot in such a thicket.” He grimaced. “Not from fear of dragons. We’re not lily-livered. It’s just that none of us wants to be lost in those woods forevermore. You’ve seen how dense it is? It’s like a maze.”
    “I know. I felt lost almost as soon as we set foot in there.”
    “Maybe there’s something I ought to show you.” He led her across to where the timbers, felled to make room for the prioress’s new lodging, were stacked and waiting for the woodman’s axe. He pointed to something behind them, Hildegard approached.
    Under the sheltering trees waiting to be felled, it she saw a print in the mud. Three claws.
    She turned.
    Dakin was watching her carefully.
    “It would have to be a very large deerhound,” she said. “I had a lymer like that once. When did it appear?”
    “The morning after Giles disappeared. Almost,” he added, “as if it was looking for another victim.”
    He turned and went back towards the lodge. With a glance into the woods, Hildegard followed.
    Dakin stood under the eaves, out of the rain, which was falling faster now. “Why did you ask if