Monk's Hood by Ellis Peters

known to remove their fathers to clear their own paths, as
Cadfael knew well enough. And this was not Edwin’s own father, and little love
lost between them.
    “Tell
me,” he said, “about this second marriage, and the bargain you struck.”
    “Why,
Eward died when Edwin was nine years old, and Martin took over his shop, and
runs it as Eward did before him, and as Eward taught him. We all lived together
until Gervase came ordering some panelling for his house, and took a strong
fancy to me. And he was a fine figure of a man, too, and in good health, and
very attentive… He promised if I would have him he’d make Edwin his heir, and
leave Mallilie to him. And Martin and Sibil had three more children to provide
for by then, so with all those mouths to feed he needed what the business can
bring in, and I thought to see Edwin set up for life.”
    “But
it was not a success,” said Cadfael, “understandably. A man who had never had
children, and getting on in years, and a lusty lad busy growing up—they were
bound to cross swords.”
    “It
was ten of one and half a score of the other,” she owned, sighing. “Edwin had
been indulged, I fear, he was used to his freedom and to having his own way,
and he was for ever running off with Edwy, as he’d always been used to do. And
Gervase held it against him that he ran with simple folk and craftsmen—he
thought that low company, beneath a young man with a manor to inherit, and that
was bound to anger Edwin, who loves his kin. Not to claim that he had not some
less respectable friends, too! They rubbed each other the wrong way daily. When
Gervase beat him, Edwin ran away to Martin’s shop and stayed for days. And when
Gervase locked him up, he’d either make his way out all the same, or else take
his revenge in other ways. In the end Gervase said as the brat’s tastes obviously
ran to mere trade, and runningloose with all the scallywags of
the town, he might as well go and apprentice himself in good earnest, it was
all he was fit for. And Edwin, though he knew better, pretended to take that,
word for word, as well meant, and went and did that very thing, which made
Gervase more furious than ever. That was when he vowed he’d hand over his manor
by charter to the abbey, and live here retired. ‘He cares nothing for the lands
I meant to leave him,’ he said, ‘why should I go on nursing them for such an
ingrate?’ And he did it, there and then, while he was hot, he had this
agreement drawn up, and made ready to move here before Christmas.”
    “And
what did the boy say to that? For I suppose he never realised what was
intended?”
    “He
did not! He came with a rush, penitent but indignant, too. He swore he does
love Mallilie, he never meant to scorn it, and he would take good care of it if
it came to him. But my husband would not give way, though we all pleaded with
him. And Edwin was bitter, too, for he had been promised, and a promise should
be kept. But it was done, and nobody could make my lord undo it. Not being his
own son, Edwin’s consent was never asked nor needed—it would never have been
given! He went flying back to Martin and Sibil with his raging grievance, and I
haven’t seen him again until this day, and I wish he’d never come near us
today. But he did, and now see how the sheriff’s man is hunting him as a
villain who would kill his own mother’s husband! Such a thought could never
enter that child’s head, I swear to you, Cadfael, but if they take him… Oh, I
can’t bear to think of it!”
    “You’ve
had no word since they left here? News travels this highroad fast. I think it
would have reached us before now if they had found him at home.”
    “Not
a word yet. But where else would he go? He knew no reason why he should hide.
He ran from here knowing nothing of what was to happen after his going, he was
simply sore about his bitter welcome.”
    “Then
he might not wish to take such a