PattyMacDotComma's Reviews > A Morbid Taste for Bones

3.5★
“Not all the time they were together there would be spent in prayer. They would be considering what arguments would be most likely to carry the day with Father Huw's free assembly, or what oblique ecclesiastical threats daunt them into submission.”

The year is 1137. Brother Cadfael has chosen a monastic life, tending to the gardens, but only after having had a full and exciting career in battles and as part of the Crusades. His monastery is very modest and has no claims to fame, no source of power, so to speak.

Then, one of the monks stands up during a service, proclaiming rather wildly that St Winifred came to him in a dream, asking that the brothers rescue her bones from the small Welsh graveyard where she was buried.

“Through the murmur of excitement that went round the chapter-house, Prior Robert's voice rose in reverent triumph: ‘Father Abbot, we are being guided! Our quest for a saint has drawn to us this sign of favour, in token that we should persevere.’”

Abbot Heribert is willing to send a group, along with Brother Columbanus, a young monk seemingly afflicted with fits of some sort. Brother Cadfael, being Welsh, is sent along as an interpreter. Some of the leaders would speak Latin, of course, but that wasn’t in common use by others.

When they get to Wales, they need to figure out how to convince the locals to relinquish the relics, to coin a phrase. After all, if the bones have hidden powers (this is 1137, remember), then why would the Welsh want them to go to England?

Thus, the brothers need to consider not only what arguments might be useful with Welsh Father Huw’s people, but also how they can imply that if they don’t do the bidding of St Winifred, they could be leaving themselves open to all kinds of trouble. Veiled threats, but not too thinly veiled.

These were the days when rulers and church leaders could threaten people with fire and brimstone, torture, pestilence, plagues. You name it, anything awful that happened would be attributed to some oversight on your part that could be atoned for through prayer and payment. These days, our ‘leaders’ threaten us with higher prices, steeper debt, and poorer lifestyle under their opponents.

But back to the beautiful Welsh countryside.

“‘The parish stretches for several miles along the river valley, and a mile or more from the Cledwen on either bank. We do not congregate in villages as you English do. Land good for hunting is plentiful, but good for tillage meagre. Every man lives where best suits him for working his fields and conserving his game.’”

So how is Cadfael to get to know the people? There doesn't seem to be a village. Still, they meet the same way we do, over a drink.

“Now what I really need here, he thought as he walked back towards the church of Gwytherin, is a good, congenial acquaintance, someone who knows every man, woman and child in the parish, without having to carry the burden of their souls. A sound drinking companion with good sense is what I need.”

Bened, the local smith, is sharing some mead with a few others, and when Cadfael addresses them in Welsh, he is easily accepted. One of the young monks has taken a real liking to the work at the smithy and has made himself at home already.

The quest for the saintly bones is the reason for the trip, but the ongoing friction in the community about which lovely girl is going to marry whom begins to take precedence in the book, to the point that Cadfael finds himself wanting to take sides. One young monk is clearly distracted, and when a major landholder, father of one of the girls, is found murdered, the story gets more interesting.

Bened, the smith, seems to hold all of the religious party in equally high esteem, but Cadfael wishes him to know they are still just men.

“‘In the Holy Land I've known Saracens I'd trust before the common run of the crusaders, men honourable, generous and courteous, who would have scorned to haggle and jostle for place and trade as some of our allies did. Meet every man as you find him, for we're all made the same under habit or robe or rags.’”

I enjoyed the mystery. I had been advised that this is not the best book to start the series with, although it is the first, probably because it might put me off reading more. But forewarned is forearmed, so I was happy to read it quickly to get a taste.

Knowing that the series improves and is so popular, I’m going to keep going (eventually). I’m told that the second book is a perfectly good place to start, if you’re considering it yourself.