All language subtitles for [SubtitleTools.com] Cadfael S2E2 online TV Series

[theme music]

[bell tolls]

[singing in latin]

[music playing]

[horse whinny]

[cow moos]

[chickens cluck]

[horse neighs]

Master Clemence.

Leoric.

Take his horse, boy.

Welcome to Ashby Manor.

[water splashes]

The pleasure is all yours, cousin.

LEORIC: Cousin Clemence, may I present my family?

My ward, Isobel, my youngest son, Meriet,

and Tristan, my elder son.

And the burning bush amid these worthy tree trunks?

Our neighbor's daughter, sir, the lady Rosanna.

She and I are to be wed next month.

Then clearly a life of mud and haystacks

is not without its compensations.

My lady.

Will you take wine, cousin?

You must learn to smile, Meriet,

or you will turn the wine to vinegar.

So Hugh Beringar is off to Westminster.

HUGH: Michaelmas is upon us, Cadfael.

Time to render account of the shire and its revenues

to the King.

But if both you and Sheriff Prestcote

are away, who is going to maintain the King's

peace in your absence?

Him.

Sergeant Warden?

[bell tolls]

You think I am not competent, Brother?

It was, uh, mustard ointment you wanted, wasn't it, Hugh?

Mm.

I've said to Sergeant Warden that should

any strange difficulty arise, he should do as I always do--

consult Brother Cadfael.

[scoffs]

Yeah, of course.

Well, there we are then.

That should keep the cold out.

Use as much as you like.

Uh, uh, yeah, yes.

Well, I must, um, attend Father Abbot.

[laughs]

Can you believe I was once a monk?

Uh, still am, in fact.

Though not in habit, sir.

Not in any habit, my lady.

My apologies Master Clemence.

I have yet to make your acquaintance.

The lady's brother, Janyn Beck.

Sir, you are, indeed, fortunate, though not

as fortunate as Master Tristan.

Well, perhaps, sir, you will honor us

by attending the wedding and blessing the union.

I thank you Leoric.

A country wedding could be amusing.

Ah, who knows where I shall be in two weeks time.

The life of a diplomat is full of intrigue and fine dinners.

In fact, I wonder you lads do not forsake your dunghills

and take the tonsure.

A couple of years in a monastery, then up and away.

A cleric can fly high indeed.

The Bishop of Winchester is the highest in the land,

save the King, himself.

Master Clemence is on the King's business.

The King's business, here?

He wishes to know the number of your chickens.

[clucks like chicken]

[laughs]

No, no, no, no, no, no.

I'm here to rest the night and abuse

the hospitality of my second cousin twice removed,

and then on to Chester.

You do know where Chester is?

It's a large town some 30 miles to the north.

The Earl of Chester is undecided where to throw

his weight in the civil war.

You do know there is a civil war between King Stephen

and his frightful cousin Maud for the crown of England?

We have had friends die in it, sir.

And if the Earl of Chester does not support the King?

Then, sir, you have a country in turmoil,

fragmented, each baron out for himself, in a word, anarchy.

LEORIC: Then God protect you, sir.

I wonder that you ride alone with the King's

future in your hands.

Oh, to the world I am a mere chaplain

trotting about on the business of the Church.

[chuckles] And nobody is much interested in that.

Ah, but what of the future?

Tonight, we have wine and beauty.

To Rosanna, the perfect flower of English womanhood.

I have brought you a light, sir, for your chamber.

Shall I lead the way?

My lady, you may lead me where you will.

[door creaks]

A farewell then, cousin.

May your beans be plentiful and your oats free of tears.

Hi.

Godspeed, sir.

We'll get him, brother.

He is gone now.

[horse whinnies]

God forgive me for being glad to be rid of a guest.

Perhaps he is right, father.

We should all take the cowl.

Though I wish he would choke on his next fine dinner.

[branches rustling]

[whistle]

[bird flying]

[water running]

[thunder rumbling]

[rain pouring]

Sir, will you come in the dry and take some supper?

I sent word to Father Abbot.

My son is resolved to become a monk.

What is your prayer, my son?

Father, to enter the cloistered life and serve God.

The life you seek is a hard one.

Are you ready to accept that hardship,

to obey, and to bear ignominy for the love of Christ?

Yes, by the grace of God.

Stand.

Are you free born, in good health,

and free from incurable disease?

Yes, by the grace of God.

Are you free from debt and irregularities?

Yes, by the grace of God.

Are you bound by promise of marriage?

No, by the grace of God.

Then your prayer is granted.

For those like you, who come to the Order in the mature years,

a full 12 months probation is customary.

But, Father, is that needful?

Cannot the time be cut short?

I desire with all my heart to have

the fullness of my commitment and be at peace.

Do not strain after perfection.

It will be made plain if you are ready earlier.

I do not exaggerate when I say the life

you seek is a hard one.

Your nights here will be spent more in prayer than in sleep.

Your meals will be eaten in silence,

and your eyes spoilt in study.

You will toil in the fields like a serf,

and then spend even more hours singing yourself

hoarse to the glory of God.

That is the fullness of your commitment.

I shall not be found wanting, Father.

I promise.

[snoring]

MERIET: No!

No!

MONK: What's happening?

MERIET: Dear Mother of Christ, no.

[monks whispering]

MERIET: Help me!

No!

Dear Mother of Christ, no.

No!

Forgive me!

Please. Help me!

No!

Forgive me!

Brother!

Brother.

MERIET: Help me!

Please!

[gasps]

Easy, easy, easy, easy, boy.

Easy.

[meriet crying]

Easy.

It's all right.

It soon will be over.

[inaudible]

FATHER ABBOT: Get back to sleep!

This is not some fairground booth.

Back to bed, all of you!

Is it-- is it demons, Brother Cadfael?

If it is, they shall be exorcised.

[breathing]

Father Abbot, if we accept the fact that, being asleep,

this was not a willful act of self-display,

then it issues instead from a deeply

troubled spirit which we must help to concentrate and purify.

FATHER ABBOT: You suggest some mortification of the flesh,

Prior Robert?

Father, which one of us has not taken ease in hard labor,

or a diet of bread and water, or the lash?

And which one of us, Father, has never had one ill night

and broken it with nightmares?

Once is but once.

We have none of us come to any harm through his disturbance.

It seems you have a friend in Brother Cadfael.

Deserve it.

[running footsteps]

Forgive me, Father Abbot.

A visitor.

My name is Eluard.

I am Canon to the Bishop of Winchester.

I have a mystery to solve, Brother Meriet.

Do you know a man named Peter Clemence,

the Bishop's chaplain?

I tended his horse at my father's house.

Your father says as much.

I have been to Ashby Manor and questioned all there.

You are my last hope.

Sir?

The morning of his departure, you

saw Master Clemence ride off?

Yes, sir.

And then you saw him no more?

We, none of us, rode with him.

He said, he knew the track.

ELUARD: Did he say where he was bound and for what purpose?

To Chester, on the King's business,

a mission of diplomacy.

A mission of the highest import, Brother,

but a mission that was not completed for Master Clemence

has vanished.

Sergeant Warden?

You say you tended Master Clemence's horse.

What was it like?

A fine beast, not above three years old and mettlesome.

Sergeant, I wonder you have not found it yet.

We shall, my Lord.

I promise.

It troubles me, Brother Meriet, that Peter Clemence

vanishes, and you are seized by a sudden and holy vocation

for the safety of a cloistered life.

What brings you here?

For some young men, sir, the world falls short.

They seek a higher and less selfish life

within these walls.

Quite so.

Be sure you stay within these walls,

then, Brother, so I may speak with you again.

That is all for present.

You seem shocked, Father Abbot, but I trust you will not prove

to be harboring a murderer.

Sergeant Warden, I must leave this in your hands

now while I press on for Chester and secure what can be secured.

Pray for my safety, Father.

And you, be aware that Peter Clemence is

one of our most able young men, a great favorite of my Lord

Bishop and of the King himself.

It is noted that he is lost in your county.

My Lord.

[bell tolls]

Best get to bad.

We shall be back in here soon enough.

Yes, Brother.

And I have learned of Canon Eluard's purpose here.

If you have need of help, at any time--

I thank you, Brother, but I need the help of no man.

Go!

Go!

Trust me.

Is it the devil in you!

MONK: (WHISPERING) The devil?

Barbary?

Barbary!

[whistles]

Barbary.

He called Barbary.

Yes, Oswin, I did hear him.

And then he whistled.

That's how the devil is summoned up by the [inaudible],,

by whistling. Can he be the devil's novice?

Oswin.

Do not dismiss Brother Oswin's fear so lightly,

nor the power of evil.

Measures must be taken.

Well, to ensure peace at night,

perhaps Brother Meriet could be segregated for a while.

But Brother Cadfael, if he's set apart with no one

to watch or hear him, who knows what will happen?

The devil will thrive unchallenged.

He could bring down the roof upon us all

or consume the Abbey with eternal fire!

Oswin, when you entered these walls,

you renounced the world, not your senses.

But Brother, I think he has a talisman from his demon.

He hides it in his cell.

I've seen him do so.

I swear.

A charm, and at night, he takes it to his bed.

You have seen this, in his bed,

some alien thing hidden away.

Not clearly, Brother, but it is there.

That is not according to the rule.

Brother Meriet.

Are you well?

Perfectly well, I think.

W-- what has happened here?

CADFAEL: Nothing.

Just another dream, that's all.

You should rest.

Let my things alone!

CADFAEL: Wait!

Give that to me.

It is mine.

You have forsworn "mine," Brother,

or do you already forget?

Give it to me.

To bring any personal thing here is to flout the rule,

but to cherish this in your bed is close to fornication.

[monks whispering]

Do you so much as know the meaning of the vows

that you wish to take?

Obedience, stability, chastity.

Is there no grace in you at all?

Grace enough to refrain from stealing.

Give me what is mine.

Stand aside, Brother.

If you do not, you will never take those vows.

I will have you cast out.

[shouts]

[grunting]

For shame, boy.

[whip cracking]

Five.

[groaning]

[door creaks]

[sighs] You're a fool, boy.

You could have spared yourself all this.

I have had worse.

My father could teach them something here.

Well, he failed to teach you much sense, whatever else.

Do you want me to salve it for you?

[hisses in pain]

This is nothing.

You could have been excommunicated.

Assault upon your priest and confessor?

But I won't deny that I haven't wanted to strangle

Brother Jerome at times myself.

He had no right to steal from me.

He had every right to confiscate

what is forbidden here.

Nor had he the right to destroy it in front of my eyes

or speak of fornication.

Where is the evil in a lock of hair, a keepsake?

Did the red-haired girl spurn you?

She is spoken for.

Then find another.

You are young, and there are many.

Be off.

Either that, or bend that stiff neck.

I tell you, boy, I have never known

a novice pursue his vocation with so

much passion and so little joy.

What is tearing at your soul?

Why are any of us?

Why are you?

CADFAEL: I was a soldier in the Great Crusade at Jerusalem.

I killed many in the name of God.

Now, I grow herbs and brew remedies to heal men after all

those years of injuring them.

What could be more fitting?

Atonement, then?

I am very much older than you, but of all

the vows I took on entering here,

obedience is still the hardest.

[gasps]

Unrequited love?

He is passionate.

The lady chose his brother.

And for that, he shuts himself away?

He will admit no other reason.

Well, better that than murder.

You mean, Canon Eluard's suspicions?

Given credence, surely, by his savage attack

on Brother Jerome.

Oh, no, no, no, Meriet would have stopped.

Would he?

I think, Brother Cadfael, you see yourself in that young man.

That doesn't mean that you can read his heart.

No.

But I think it wise, Father, for someone to visit his parent,

Leoric Ashby.

For what reason?

Because it is not yet too late for him

to haul the boy back from vows to which

he is manifestly ill suited.

A sensible thought.

This is no hideaway for love sick youth, Brother Prior.

No, Father.

Nor violent youth.

Could I suggest, Father, that [sighs]

while Meriet's future is being decided,

he serve out his penance at St. Giles.

The lazar house?

Well, his removal from the Abbey

will calm the other novices.

And Brother Oswin, who is due to take a turn there,

will welcome his help, I'm sure.

Perhaps you're right.

Ministering to those worse blessed

than himself maybe the best medicine of all for,

Brother Meriet.

Arrange it.

Father.

FATHER ABBOT: How is Brother Jerome?

Oh, his throat will mend.

But a week or two will pass before his voice returns.

Then even in the worst deed, there is some good.

Yes, Father.

SERGEANT WARDEN: Brother Cadfael.

Where are you bound?

I to Ashby Manor, Brother Meriet to St. Giles.

For what purpose?

Father Abbot's purpose.

Do you seek my help, then, Sergeant?

[horse snorting]

Barbary.

That is Barbary.

A horse.

I thought best to bring it here, sir.

Well, does it belong to Peter Clemence?

Yes, this is his.

I never before had its like to care

for, such a horse is Barbary.

Where did you find him?

20 miles to the north.

20 miles?

In the peat bogs by Whitbatch.

Clemence robbed and murdered then.

Well, scarcely robbed.

Look at all the silver on his harness.

What robber worth his salt would lose a beast like this?

The rider himself could hardly be worth more.

These are desperate times, Brother.

And desperate men don't think.

Besides, there's other predators.

CADFAEL: Was there a noseband to match the saddlecloth?

MERIET: Yes, green velvet.

Man and horse were all green velvet from head to toe.

Well, there's none here now.

Uh, the horse is as we found him, Brother.

Get that horse cleaned up.

And you, boy, don't stray from the lepers.

[chickens cluck]

Welcome to St. Giles I'll let them know you're joining us.

How many lepers are there?

Usually about 5 and 20.

Some move from lazar house to lazar house.

Some arrive too ill to go any further.

Death thins their numbers, but then the gaps are filled.

Aren't you afraid of infection?

No.

[children playing]

CHILD 1: I'm going to get you, mister.

Stop.

CHILD 2: You're dead.

A happy chance for your arrival, Brother Meriet.

It's a holiday.

On four days of the year, we're allowed a foray,

by discretion of the Crown, to gather

firewood in the Long Forest.

So being able-bodied, you may push a cart.

[music playing]

[wordless singing]

[singing in latin]

Good day, Brother.

Oh, good day.

Am I still on the right track for Ashby Manor?

You are.

You'll be from Shrewsbury?

How fares Brother Meriet?

Well, badly enough for me to be seeking out his father.

Forgive me, Janyn Beck, shocked friend of said Brother.

You were shocked when he wished to become a monk.

You are well schooled at understatement.

Ah, and his father, did he take it very hard?

He took no pleasure in it, but-- but then

old Leoric takes precious little joy in anything Meriet does.

Why so?

JANYN: You have not met the golden firstborn?

Tristan, Meriet's brother.

Tristan, oh, I see.

You mean he is his father's favorite?

Which makes our Meriet all the more perverse,

against his father only.

Not Tristan, strange to say.

Meriet loves him dearly.

If I were so discounted, I should hate them both.

But I am not the stuff of monks.

What about our other mystery?

Is there news?

Sorry?

The disappeared cleric.

Oh, oh, Peter Clemence?

Oh, well, his horse is found.

But not the man?

You seem unsurprised.

Is it such a mystery, Brother, at a time

when men change their allegiance as soon as their shirts?

Do you mean Master Clemence is not dead, merely reneged?

Joined the Empress Maud or the Earl of Chester,

Lincoln, Nottingham?

For every man for sale, there's a buyer.

Well, Godspeed, Brother, though if you want to be at Ashby

by Christmas, I should--

I should get off that thing and carry it.

Take no notice, Daisy.

If I can remember the way, I know where we can charcoal.

Where is the need to consult me?

Meriet has now, of his own will, taken another father

in the Lord Abbot.

But did-- did he give no reason for taking such a step?

Perhaps, he saw advancement in it?

Like my kinsmen Clemence or Canon Eluard?

Ha, men of the Church--

there's not a pinch of righteousness in any of them.

Honor, duty?

They serve their own dissolute ends.

All I know is I have but one son now.

Meriet has put his hand to the plow.

He must finish his furrow.

To be steadfast is a virtue.

But as you say, Meriet has taken another father.

One who cannot quite so easily wash his hands of him.

Sir, Meriet's vocation is in grave doubt.

He disrupts the Abbey.

He cannot remain there if this strife

within his heart continues.

I will not have him back. CADFAEL: Canon Eluard--

What of him?

I will be plain.

The Canon asks aloud if there is some simple, but dark reason,

for Meriet to shut himself away.

The reason being Peter Clemence.

Is Clemence found?

No.

Then what right has Eluard to cast so foul a shadow

over my son.

At least he speaks his mind.

He doesn't snap, and snarl, and hide the truth!

You overstep your mark, Brother.

Return to your refuge and let the real world live as it can.

Come on, Daisy.

Brother.

Brother, you brought my father news of Meriet.

Has something happened?

You will be Tristan?

Forgive me, and the lady Rosanna.

He has not changed his mind? - No.

His zeal remains excessive.

As in all things.

Can you think of any reason why he should

renounce the world so soon?

It is simple.

He was in the shadow of his older brother,

as are all men with Tristan.

You see how I am blessed.

Indeed.

Brother, I wish above all things

that Meriet could still be with us.

But if this new life is truly what he desires,

you'll help him through?

Mm.

And say he has my prayers and my love always.

Assure him of my love also, Brother.

I may speak in terms of love, may I not,

for I shall soon be his sister.

And we are to be wed at the Abbey.

I hope you will sing sweetly for us.

CADFAEL: Gladly, if your marriage is made in heaven.

[music playing]

[singing in latin]

[whistle]

[daisy bays]

Come on, Daisy.

Come on.

[thunk]

[footsteps]

Sorry, Brother, I took you for a wild pig.

Oh.

Well, not strictly true.

I sought you out.

Oh, you're not the first today.

Shall we talk, or must you not sit with women?

I will sit with pleasure.

I'm Isobel, Leoric Ashby's ward.

Leoric?

Meriet's father?

How is Meriet?

Safe from her, at least.

But it must not go too far, this folly of his.

He is mine, Brother, whether he knows it yet or not.

You think unrequited love drove Meriet from Ashby?

Have you met the witch, Rosanna?

Yes, I have.

Could you resist if your vows did not protect you?

CADFAEL: A thought has just occurred to me

that Meriet, being a son, and Ashby Manor

being no great size--

Tristan will inherit all, and there

is no future here for Meriet, who therefore takes the cowl.

No.

Ashby will be his when Uncle Leoric dies, which I doubt

will ever happen, heaven being unlikely to meet

his high standards.

How so-- the manor?

ISOBEL: The family owns another in the north,

by Newark, a wedding gift and living

for Tristan and the witch.

Tristan and Janyn spend much time there making ready.

She is so particular.

But soon they will be gone.

Praise be.

So if you love Meriet, keep him from the tonsure

as celibate is no use to me at all.

And, uh, Peter Clemence?

You have no thoughts of him?

Burst under the weight of his own vanity?

Who knows or cares?

Oh, harsh words of a guest and kinsmen.

I did not like him.

Nor, I think, did your uncle.

Nor any of us, save Rosanna, of course,

who likes all men the same.

She befriended him.

How quaintly put, Brother.

She did indeed.

Another blow for Meriet.

Be firm with him.

He needs us both.

[music playing]

[chattering]

[singing in latin]

MERIET: This is the spot you were seeking?

OSWIN: Yes, the charcoal burner died last year.

But as you can see, we can do well here.

- Shall we take the logs? - Yes, of course.

- Come on, everybody. - There's plenty here.

Yes, I'll get a staff.

This should keep us busy for a while.

You go over there.

[chattering]

All right.

There we go.

I'm not versed in this art.

Strange the smell of burning has stayed so long.

Meriet, quick!

Look.

Well, Brother?

Does he tell you any tales?

A tall man by the length of his bones,

and straight without deformity.

SERGEANT WARDEN: Young then?

So shot before being roasted.

And he rode a horse.

Well, no sane man would use those for walking.

SERGEANT WARDEN: Brother Cadfael.

And this.

That's a dagger strap.

Too dainty for a sword.

A dagger to find then.

A loose fit now, Brother.

Another cross?

Tall, young, a horseman, and by this cross and ring, a priest.

Have you knowledge of such a one gone missing hereabouts?

Why would he lead poor Oswin to the funeral pyre on purpose?

He was shocked as anyone.

SOLDIER: Hold there!

Over there!

After him!

This way!

Come on.

Here he is!

Quickly!

[panting]

Easy now.

Here's a fine dagger for a piece of dung to carry,

and a sheath to match.

How did you come by it?

I did not steal it, my Lord.

I'm an honest man.

I swear.

How?

I-- I found it, my Lord.

Where?

In the forest, my Lord.

The place they burn charcoal, where you found me.

There's blood on it.

I killed a chicken, my Lord.

Argh!

CADFAEL: Sergeant Warden, Father Abbot has given

me leave to tend his sores.

Well, I did not.

CADFAEL: Warden, if you want any sense out of him,

you'll feed and salve him.

He's no use to you dead.

No use alive either, to us or any man.

Do you truly believe he has murdered?

Or do you merely wish it so, that you may tell Canon Eluard

you have his mystery solved?

Leave me with him.

I won't spirit him away.

What is your name?

Hmm?

What do men call you?

Harald.

A King's name.

How long have you been living wild?

I never did violence, Brother, nor stole anything

but to gain food.

I-- I found the dagger.

I-- I needed it for my hunting.

Well, it seems to have done you precious little good.

I never saw body and soul so loosely strung together.

Do you lack skill with the longbow as well?

Ah, this is called hound's tongue.

It's apt, I think for this, what?

Dog bite?

[hisses in pain]

How did you come to such a life?

Are you a runaway?

From a master who sought my blood.

For what reason?

Do they need a reason?

Now, this man who is dead.

Not by my hand, Brother.

You must believe it.

I do.

But have you seen a man in the forest,

riding a fine dark horse, wearing

clothes to match his dagger, green velvet trimmed with gold?

Did you see such a man, Harald?

I do not seek to trick you.

I know you did not kill.

I-- I saw him, Brother.

I saw him.

Nor must you seek to please me.

The truth, that's all I ask.

I saw him riding north on his dark horse, as you say.

And the rich, warm clothes on him, such a cloak held by a--

a great broach here.

A broach?

HARALD: Large, almost as a shield boss, and red as blood.

We have found no broach.

I have not stole it, Brother.

ELUARD: My Bishop will be sorely grieved.

It is Clemence, my Lord.

The smile is the same.

Cover him.

The riding shoe, unique, the jewelry also.

Ah, this ring was a gift from the Bishop

of Winchester himself.

You hold a fellow for this crime.

Is this not so?

I do, sir.

CADFAEL: I think what Sergeant Warden means to say, my Lord,

is that he has grave doubts as to the man's guilt.

And rightly so, I mean, he's a poor wretch with neither rag

nor crust to his name.

Are we to believe that he kills a man,

and then leaves his jewels, his clothes, and single handed

builds him into a charcoal stack and burns him?

I think not, nor does Sergeant Warden.

ELUARD: Indeed.

Sergeant Warden, civil war breeds

felons like a rotting cat breeds maggots.

Justice must be swift and sharp to reassure.

A churchman has been murdered.

I would have that punished, and a line drawn under it

before I move again from here.

Hang him.

Do you turn lead into gold here?

Hmm.

Oh.

No, only rose hips into syrup.

Can I help you?

A family visit to see Meriet.

But I'm told he's not at the Abbey.

Uh, no, but, uh, he's well.

Isobel, I'm glad you're here.

Tell me, is Ashby true to the King?

Hmm?

Leoric, Tristan, Janyn, Meriet, all of you?

My uncle Leoric, certainly, for king is king.

His duty is to the name and that is that.

And the rest?

Why do you ask?

Well, if Clemence wasn't killed for gain or hate,

the answer must lie in his task, his mission.

But a man is caught?

Oh, oh, yes, but not condemned, not yet.

Brother, there's no politics in Meriet.

And as for Tristan and Janyn, they love to hunt and hawk,

not skulk in corners plotting.

When the King calls, their swords will be his,

as would mine, were I allowed.

There is one other thing--

a broach, large as a shield boss and as red as blood.

It belonged to Clemence.

Yes, I saw it on his cloak.

When he rode from Ashby?

Yes.

CADFAEL: Yes, I cannot find it, not where he fell,

not where he burned.

Then surely it is stolen.

Not by the wild man, of that I am certain.

Then by whom?

CADFAEL: Who knows?

But if by someone at Ashby, you would be the one to find out.

At Ashby?

Brother Meriet.

Brother Meriet.

News as well as bread.

The wild man, the one they caught in the forest,

they say, he killed Peter Clemence and is to hang for it.

What?

It's true.

King Harald, they call him.

Meriet?

I must go to Brother Cadfael.

Ah!

Argh!

Oswin!

Brother Meriet.

I killed Peter Clemence.

I shot him down in the forest, not three miles from Ashby.

Tell Sergeant Warden to let that poor wretch Harald free.

I never thought when he was taken that--

Well, easy, easy.

Now, why did you commit such a mortal sin?

Why?

Because he made free with my brother's bride,

the woman I too loved.

And your father, does he know of this?

How else should I be here?

He gave me choice, which was no choice, to undergo

this lifelong penance of the cloister,

or to publicly admit my guilt and go to shameful death,

thus destroying our family name, and ancient honor, and so him.

If what you say is true, then you

have great need to ease the burden of your guilt.

Receive a priest.

Meriet.

Receive a priest and confess for your soul's comfort.

It is not sufficient to confess to me.

You know that.

Seek absolution before this thing

presses you down into hell.

Brother Jerome is confessor to the novices, your confessor.

I shall fetch him.

I killed Clemence.

I killed him.

[music playing]

[bell tolls]

He will not say the words.

He will not confess.

CADFAEL: Of course not.

Well, he can lie to me, to Brother Oswin,

to the world for a cause that seems good enough.

But he cannot lie to his confessor, and so God.

He did not kill Peter Clemence.

Brother Meriet, to accept banishment

to the cloister may be deemed a great self-sacrifice.

And there is virtue in it too, when it is

done to save the family honor.

But you still have your life.

And if you killed, that life is forfeit.

And I accept that penalty.

No starving runaway must take my place.

CADFAEL: After Peter Clemence was killed,

you moved the body out of sight.

Amongst the trees above the track, deep in the evening

shadows.

And frightened off the horse?

Then you took him to the charcoal stack and burned him?

I know the method.

The old charcoal burner taught me as a child.

SERGEANT WARDEN: Brother, can he be moved?

Not yet.

A snapped ankle is of little import

when his neck will follow.

[sighs]

ROSANNA: Isobel?

Are you not dressing for the journey?

I have.

Oh, you might try and make an effort for my wedding.

I shall see what is suitable, Rosanna.

[music playing]

[singing in latin]

[bell tolls]

You are welcome, sir.

You're gracious, Father.

[speaking in latin]

A wedding is a joyful occasion.

You have my kinsman's bones.

MONKS: [singing in latin]

[whispering prayers]

Forgive me for intruding.

You have had word from Sergeant Warden?

Meriet has confessed to the murder.

But I do not believe him guilty.

You do not believe.

Where you there?

I know what I heard and saw, Brother.

I never can forget it.

You came upon them then?

Can we leave this place?

I went out with my hounds, a day's hunting.

And what do I run down?

A brave stag?

No, my recently departed guest, my own kinsman,

with an arrow in his chest.

And Meriet, bow and quiver on his shoulder,

dragging him from the path, calling out to the nearby horse

as he went about his bloody business.

What time of day was this?

How do I know what time of day it was?

It was the end of time for me.

Was it morning, noon, evening?

Uh, evening.

We were bound for home and supper.

Did Meriet say anything?

Not one word.

What could he say?

Well, he says much now.

Every deed is his.

Hmm, he cannot bear the guilt, no more can I.

I don't understand.

What guilt is yours, if you did not kill Clemence?

[scoffs] You think that?

I only know that Meriet certainly did not.

So I ask again, what guilt is yours?

Did you burn the corpse?

I shall miss you, Isobel.

And I you.

Who shall advise me on what to wear?

ROSANNA: But when I think of my good fortune,

Tristan will make such a handsome husband.

And there will be land, wealth, adventure.

ISOBEL: Adventure?

At manor house in the chilly north?

ROSANNA: Oh, yes.

My brother Janyn says, there will

be excitement and rich rewards.

Newark is no ordinary place.

When I ride away from here tomorrow, I shall pity you.

And I shall pity the pack horse.

Will we be obliged, do you think,

to attend compline after supping with the Abbot?

I suppose we shall.

I could never be a monk.

The day is so disrupted by this constant need to pray.

What can monks need to pray about?

That is a mystery.

What hopes can they give voice to?

What sins need they confess?

I had the horse led to the far north,

by the track Clemence should have ridden--

devil's own job to catch.

And the body, I took secretly to the charcoal hearth.

I built a stack and fired it.

It was not well done, and against my conscience,

but I did it.

And I did it, not for Meriet's sake,

not for my own flesh and blood--

that's the real shame--

but to preserve that worthless thing called honor.

No, honor is not worthless.

But you sought to protect a family name.

And a name, alone, has no worth at all.

I know.

I know.

Then you must think clearly now.

Did Clemence leave your house that morning,

that is, not after noon?

He broke his fast and left.

What of it?

Yet both you and Meriet said the man was killed at evening,

some six hours later.

Six hours?

To ride three miles?

You do not find that strange?

I do not see its import.

CADFAEL: You did not see Meriet kill.

You saw him merely move a dead man, a man who might

have died six hours before.

You assumed his guilt.

Well, why should he yield and accept

all if he had an answer for me?

Perhaps because the answer he had for you would have

been too hard for you to bear.

Surely for love.

I doubt if he has had his proper fill of love all his life.

But those who most hunger for it, do sometimes,

most and best, deliver it.

I have loved him.

But he's always been so troublesome

a soul, always going contrary.

Well, going contrary is one way to get your notice.

Obedience and virtue go unregarded.

Oh, let that be.

He resented Clemence, as he resents everything.

His simmering bile is a curse.

But he did not kill.

Then who did?

CADFAEL: Who does he love most in this world?

Most admire and respect?

Who has shown him most kindness through the years?

There are two sons at Ashby, not one, as you are apt to think.

Do you suggest that Tristan murdered Clemence?

You are gone mad.

CADFAEL: Oh, oh, I see!

Impossible for your heir and darling,

yet instantly believable of his brother?

In this world, all men are fallible.

And all things are possible.

Meriet's bile may simmer, but he does nothing by halves.

His self-sacrifice is total.

It consumes him like a fire.

And it preserves you all.

Tristan, the brother he loves from hanging.

Rosanna, the woman he loved, or thought he loved,

from widowhood.

And you, the father who loved him not, from heartbreak.

Oh.

I must go to Sergeant Warden.

You must go to Father Abbot's supper and say nothing.

And tomorrow, you must let Tristan wed in peace

because, as you were mistaken, so too might Meriet have been.

Even now, we do not know the truth.

ISOBEL: Brother Cadfael!

Oh, Uncle, I'm sorry.

I found it.

Isobel?

How goes is it with you, Brother?

Why are you here?

I will ask the questions.

Why did you confess to murdering Clemence?

Because he insulted and provoked--

Liar!

You are your father's son.

You could not murder, least of all, a cousin.

Open your eyes, Meriet.

See the truth of what you are saving,

and what you're throwing away.

Tell me, why is Newark no ordinary place?

MERIET: Newark?

Why?

Because Rosanna calls it so.

She has strange high hopes of life there, raised by Janyn.

Why Janyn?

Perhaps because we, our family, own a manor there,

which is to be Tristan and Rosanna's future home.

What else?

Brother?

It has a castle on the River Trent,

a find stout place sometimes called the "Key of the North."

It forms part of a chain running from east to west with Lincoln,

Nottingham, and Chester.

Then it is plain, a great to and fro of weighty

men and clerics.

It will suit Rosanna most excellently.

But why Tristan and why Janyn?

A king who holds that chain can rule secure.

MONKS: [singing in latin]

[bell tolls]

Your cloak, Rosanna.

The cloisters are chilly.

One moment.

A rare and beautiful thing you have there.

Where did you get it?

It, uh, it was a gift, sir, from a kinsman.

Strange, for it is the exact same

as the one my bishop gave to his favorite clerk, Peter

Clemence, who is now dead.

Sir, it cannot be.

No, it cannot.

You are mistaken.

ELUARD: There is no other quite like it.

So they are made to be unique, as your beauty is unique.

Will you step through? Close the doors!

Who gave you this?

Meriet.

Meriet Ashby.

What?

ROSANNA: He kept on following me around with his dog eyes.

I did not want his gifts, but I took it to be kind to him.

How could I have known where he got it?

When did he make you this gift?

The day after Clemence left Ashby.

The day after he was killed.

He came to me at home.

And he pressed me to take it.

LEORIC: Be careful what you say, girl.

I know this cannot be true.

Meriet was a prisoner in my house that day.

I had him under lock and key.

Who gave you this?

Was it Tristan?

(CRYING) No.

It was-- it was my brother, Janyn.

Janyn, why do you leave in such haste?

It is breach of etiquette.

You'll either have your etiquette breached,

Brother, or your guts.

One cleric is much like another.

[horse whinnies]

[grunting]

Argh!

Stop!

[choking]

Enough!

Do not monks forswear violence?

Well done, Oswin.

Now, go and fetch some help.

You killed Peter Clemence.

But why?

I think perhaps his friends, the northern barons,

were gathered at Chester.

Hmm?

Plotting against King Stephen?

Carving England in half?

How could he allow poor Clemence to blunder in on that?

And you are all in this?

You, Tristan, Rosanna?

The Earl of Chester promised much to those prepared to risk.

Better hang than stay the lords of dunghills.

But murder?

Clemence was family.

Your family, Meriet, not mine.

SERGEANT WARDEN: I'll tie him, Brother.

TRISTAN: He said, he went to delay him,

but then came home and told us what he had done.

And he was all for leaving him lying

in the track like a dead fox.

But I lack Janyn's steel.

And besides, Clemence was a kinsman.

He deserved at least a burial.

So out I went and found him.

And then the nightmare, Meriet upon me, blood was on my hands,

he clearly thought, from my deed.

And then father's hounds crashing through behind us.

Go, cries Meriet.

Go!

Get clear away from here.

I will do what must be done.

It is not just steel I lack, Brother, but courage,

honor, strength of heart.

I fled.

I fled.

But God sees all.

Is that not true?

As clearly as we may see inside ourselves.

Master Canon, what is to become of my husband and me,

whose only true sin is to be led astray?

ELUARD: Well, I am not moved by a lady's

soft smile, Mistress Ashby.

You have known of murder and kept silent.

You have plotted treason.

Those are your true sins.

But if there is treason in the north,

at least now the King may act upon it.

And he is sometimes a more forgiving man than I. For that,

and for your lives, I suggest you pray.

I-- I said to Brother Cadfael that this murder

was the end of time for me.

Well, now, I hope it can be a new beginning.

I've misprized you, Meriet, from the very day

that you were born.

Forgive me.

The fault is not all yours, father.

No man could have a more irksome son.

Come home now.

[leoric cries]

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

[chain rattling]

Sergeant.

I trust you have thanked the brothers for their part

in this.

My Lord.

And will ensure King Harald is released.

My Lord.

I thank you for that.

We will have our hanging after all.

And Janyn's neck will stretch far better.

I came to thank you, Brother, for all you have done.

You've been more father to me than, Brother.

Well, I thank you for the compliment.

If you had a son, he would be truly blessed.

So should I. You spoken to your true father?

I have.

There is hope for both of us.

Well then, off you go.

Your vocation is elsewhere.

And yours is truly here?

Oh, yes, it is.

And not merely from atonement and weariness.

In middle life, you too may stop and look inside yourself

and wonder, what now?

I was ripe for change.

And I find that change refreshing.

Well, I shall be married, then, with 12 children.

We'll see about the 12.

[laughter]

God keep you, Brother Cadfael.

I hope he will.

I hope he will.

[theme music]

[bell tolls]

[singing in latin]