Monk's Hood by Ellis Peters Page B

give way, for he’s able, too, and he could make his
own road. I just wanted to have him back. There was a time when he blamed me—as
having to choose between them, and choosing my husband. But I’d married him…
and I was sorry for him…” Her voice snapped off short, and she was silent a
moment. “I’ve been glad of Meurig, he has stood friend to us both.”
    “He
got on well enough with your husband, did he? There was no bad blood between
them?”
    “Why,
no, none in the world!” She was astonished at the question. “They rubbed along
together quietly, and never any sparks. Gervase was generous to him, you know,
though he never paid him much attention. And he makes him a decent living
allowance—that is, he did… Oh, how will he fare now, if that ends? I shall have
to have advice, law is a tangle to me…”
    Nothing
there to raise a brow, it seemed, even if Meurig knew as well as anyone how to
lay hands on poison. So did Aelfric, who had been in the workshop and seen it
dispensed. And whoever gained by Bonel’s death, it seemed, Meurig stood only to
lose. Manorial bastards were thick on the ground everywhere, the lord who had
but one had been modest and abstemious indeed, and the by-blow who was set up
with an expanding trade and an allowance to provide for him was fortunate, and
had no cause for complaint. Good cause, in fact, to lament his father’s
passing.
    “And
Aelfric?”
    The
darkness outside had made the light of the little lamp seem brighter; her face,
oval and grave, shone in the pallid radiance, and her eyes were round as moons.
“Aelfric is a hard case. You must not think my husband was worse than his kind,
or ever knowingly took more than was his by law. But the law limps, sometimes.
Aelfric’s father was born free as you or I, but younger son in a holding that
was none too large even for one, and rather than have it split, when his father
died, he left it whole for his brother, and took a villein yardland that had
fallen without heirs, on my husband’s manor. He took it on villein tenure, to
do the customary duties for it, but never doubting to keep his status as a free
man, doing villein service of his own undertaking. And Aelfric in his turn was
a younger son, and foolishly accepted service in the manor household when his
elder had family enough to run his yardland without him. So when the manor was
to be surrendered, and we were ready to come here, Gervase chosehim
to be his manservant, for he was the neatest-handed and best we had. And when
Aelfric chose rather to go elsewhere and find employment, Gervase brought suit
that he was villein, both his brother and his father having done customary
service for the land they held. And the court found that it was so, and he was
bound, however free-born his father had been. He takes it hard,” said Richildis
ruefully. “He never felt himself villein before, he was a free man doing work
for pay. Many and many a one has found himself in the same case, never having
dreamed of losing his freedom until it was lost.”
    Cadfael’s
silence pricked her. He was reflecting that here was another who had a burning
grudge, knew where to find the means, and of all people had the opportunity;
but her mind was on the painful picture she had just drawn, and she mistook his
brooding for disapproval of her dead husband, censure he was unwilling to
express to her. Valiantly she sought to do justice, at least, if there was no
affection left.
    “You
are wrong if you think the fault was all on one side. Gervase believed he was
doing no more than his right, and the law agreed with him. I’ve never known him
wilfully 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