A Morbid Taste for Bones (Chronicles of Brother Cadfael, by Ellis Peters

By Ellis Peters

In 1137, the Abbot of Shrewsbury comes to a decision to obtain the continues to be of St Winifred. Brother Cadfael is a part of the excursion despatched to her ultimate resting position in Wales and so they locate the villagers passionately divided through the Benedictines' provide for the saint's relics.

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Extra resources for A Morbid Taste for Bones (Chronicles of Brother Cadfael, Book 1) (UK Edition)

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She passed away this summer. She died of the consumption,’ I said, struggling not to cry. His eyes filled too. ‘Poor little Evie,’ he murmured. Then he looked at me again – a long searching look. ’ he murmured. I unwound the shawl from my head and let my hair whip free in the wind. ‘I am Evie’s daughter,’ I said. ’ ‘I wondered – dear God, how I wondered if that was the case. I went sailing halfway across the world, selfishly wanting adventure. At first I barely gave Evie a second thought. I had new sweethearts wherever the ship docked – but none proved as sweet and spirited as your mother.

His eyes filled too. ‘Poor little Evie,’ he murmured. Then he looked at me again – a long searching look. ’ he murmured. I unwound the shawl from my head and let my hair whip free in the wind. ‘I am Evie’s daughter,’ I said. ’ ‘I wondered – dear God, how I wondered if that was the case. I went sailing halfway across the world, selfishly wanting adventure. At first I barely gave Evie a second thought. I had new sweethearts wherever the ship docked – but none proved as sweet and spirited as your mother.

Do you really think so? ’ I asked eagerly, throwing caution to the wind. ’ she said triumphantly, and bent her head over her knitting. ’ I asked. ’ She shrugged, stitching away. ‘Oh please tell me – please,’ I begged. ’ She looked up at me, her eyes narrowed. ’ ‘Yes? ’ ‘Then go through the village, as far east as you can go—’ ‘East. Yes. ’ ‘And then gaze ahead and you’ll be looking straight at him,’ she said, and started cackling with laughter. I plied her with further questions, but she rocked back and forth, still laughing, refusing to say another word.

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A Morbid Taste for Bones (Chronicles of Brother Cadfael, by Ellis Peters
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