Brother Cadfael 03: Monk's Hood by Ellis Peters Page B

cheat any man, but he did stand fast on his own dues. And Aelfric makes his own situation worse. Gervase never used to harry or press him, for he worked well by nature, but now he's unfree he sticks stubbornly on every last extreme of servile labour, purposely, drives home his villein condition at every turn ... It is not servility, but arrogance, he deliberately rattles his chains. He did give offence by it, and truly I think they grew to hate each other. And then, there's Aldith ... Oh, Aelfric never says word of it to her, but I know! He looks after her as if his heart's being drawn out of him. But what has he to offer a free girl like her? Even if Meurig wasn't casting an eye in that direction, too, and he so much more lively company. Oh, I tell you, Cadfael, I've had such trouble and grief with all this household of mine. And now this! Do help me! Who else will, if not you? Help my boy! I do believe you can, if you will."
    "I can promise you," said Cadfael after scrupulous thought, "that I'll do everything I can to find out the murderer of your husband. That I must, whoever he may be. Will that content you?"
    She said: "Yes! I know Edwin is guiltless. You don't, yet. But you will!"
    "Good girl!" said Cadfael heartily. "That's how I remember you from when time was. And even now, before your knowledge becomes my knowledge also, I can promise you one thing more. Yes, I will help your son to the utmost I may, guilty or innocent, though not by hiding the truth. Will that do?"
    She nodded, for the moment unable to speak. The stresses not only of this disastrous day, but of many days before, showed suddenly in her face.
    "I fear," said Cadfael gently, "you went too far aside from your own kind, Richildis, in marrying the lord of the manor."
    "I did so!" she said, and incontinently burst into tears at last, and wept, alarmingly, on his shoulder.
    Chapter Four
    Brother Denis the hospitaller, who always had all the news of the town from the wayfarers who came to the guest-hall, reported on the way to Vespers that the story of Bonel's death and the hunt for his stepson was all over Shrewsbury, and the sheriff's sergeant had drawn a blank at Martin Bellecote's shop. A thorough search of the premises had turned up no trace of the boy, and the sergeant was having him cried through the streets; but if the populace joined in the hunt with no more than their usual zeal for the sheriff's law, it was likely the crier would be wasting his breath. A boy not yet fifteen, and known to a great many of the town, and with nothing against him but a bit of riotous mischief now and then ... no, they were not likely to give up their night's sleep to help in his capture.
    The first necessity, it seemed to Cadfael no less than to the sergeant, was to find the boy. Mothers are partial, especially towards only sons, late sons conceived after hope of a son has faded. Cadfael felt a strong desire to see and hear and judge for himself before he made any other move in the matter.
    Richildis, relieved by her fit of weeping, had told him where to find her son-in-law's shop and house, and it fell blessedly at the near end of the town. A short walk past the mill-pond, over the bridge, in through the town gates, which would be open until after Compline, and it was but a couple of minutes up the steep, curving Wyle to Bellecote's premises. Half an hour to go and return. After supper, and a quick supper at that, he would slip away, cutting out Collations - safe enough, for Prior Robert would absent himself on principle, standing on his privacy as abbot-designate, and leaving the mundane direction of the house to Brother Richard, who certainly would not meddle where it might cost him effort.
    Supper was salt fish and pulse, and Cadfael disposed of it with scant attention, and made off across the great court in haste, and out at the gates. The air was chill, but as yet barely on the edge of frost, and there had been no snow at all so far. All the same, he had muffled