Chapter Seven

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R eginaldCruce, whether he had, or indeed could well be expected tohave any deep affection for a half-sister so many years distantfrom him and so seldom seen, was not the man to be tolerant of anyaffront or injury towards any of his house. Whatever touched aCruce reflected upon him, and roused his hackles like those of apointing hound. He heard the story out in stoic silence butever-growing resentment and rage, the more formidable for beingunder steely control.

“And all this is certain?” he said at length.“Yes, the woman would know her business, surely. The girlnever came there. I was not in this matter at all, I was not hereand did not witness either the going or the return, but now we willsee! At least I know the names of those who rode with her, for myfather spoke of the journey on his deathbed. He sent his closest,men he trusted—who would not, with his daughter? And he dotedon her. Wait!”

He bellowed from the hall door for his steward, and in from thefading daylight, cooling now towards dusk, came a grey elder driedand tanned like old leather, but very agile and sinewy. He mighthave been older than the lord he had lost, and was in no awe ofeither father or son here, but plainly master of his own duties,and aware of his worth. He spoke as an equal, and easy in therelationship.

“Arnulf, you’ll remember,” said Reginald,waving him to a seat at the table with them, as free inacknowledgement of the association as his man, “when mysister went off to her convent, the lads my father sent off withher—the Saxon brothers, Wulfric and Renfred, and John Bonde,and the other, who was he? He went off with the draft, I know, soonafter I came here…”

“Adam Heriet,” said the steward readily, and drewacross the board the horn his lord filled for him. “Yes, whatof them?”

“I want them, Arnulf, all of them—here.”

“Now, my lord?” If he was surprised, he tooksurprises in his stride.

“Now, or as soon as may be. But first, all these were ofmy father’s close household, you knew them better than ever Idid. Would you count them trustworthy?”

“Out of question,” said the steward withouthesitation, in a voice as dry and tough as his hide. “Bondeis a simpleton, or little better, but a hard worker and open as theday. The Saxon pair are clever and subtle, but clever enough toknow when they have a good lord, and loyal enough to be gratefulfor him. Why?”

“And the other, Heriet? Him I hardly knew. That was whenEarl Waleran demanded my service of men in arms, and I sent himwhatever offered, and this Heriet put himself forward. They told mehe was restless because my sister was gone from the manor. He was afavourite of hers, so I heard, and fretted for her.”

“That could be true,” said Arnulf the steward.“Certainly he was never the same after he came back from thatjourney. Such girl children can worm their way into a man and getat his heart. So she may have done with him. If you’ve knownthem from the cradle, they work deep into your marrow.”

Reginald nodded dourly. “Well, he went. Twenty men myoverlord asked of me, and twenty men he got. It was about the timehe had that contention of his against the bishops, and neededreinforcements. Well, wherever he may be now, Heriet is out of ourreach. But the rest are all here?”

“The Saxon pair in the stable loft this minute. Bondeshould be coming in about this time from the fields.”

“Bring them,” said Reginald. And to Nicholas hesaid, when the steward had drained his horn and departed down thestone stair into the court as nimbly and rapidly as a youth oftwenty: “Wherever I look among these four, I can see notreachery. Why should they return, if they had somehow betrayedher? And why should they do so, any man of them? Arnulf says right,they knew they had the softest of beds here, my father was of theold, paternal, household kind, easier far than I, and I am nothated.” He was well aware, to judge by the sharp smile andcurl of the lip, yellow-outlined in the low lamplight, of all thetensions that still bound and burned between Saxon and Norman, andwas too intelligent to strain them too far. In the countrysidememories were very long, and loyalties with them, hard to displace,slow to replace.

“Your steward is Saxon,” said Nicholas drily.

“So he is! And content! Or if not content,” saidReginald, at once dour and bright in the intimate light, “atleast aware of worse, worse by far. I have benefited by myfather’s example, I know when to bend. But where my sister isconcerned, I tell you, I feel my spine stiffen.”

So did Nicholas, as stiff as if the marrow there had petrifiedinto stone. And he viewed the three hinds, when they camemarshalled sleepily up the steps into the hall, with the sameblank, opaque eyes as did their master. Two long, fair fellowssurely no more than thirty years old, with all the lean grace oftheir northern kin and eyes that caught the light in flashes ofpale, blinding blue, and a softer, squat, round-faced man, perhapsa little older, bearded and brown.

It might be true enough, thought Nicholas, watching them, thatthey had no hate for their lord, but rather reckoned themselveslucky by comparison with many of their kind, now for the thirdgeneration subject to Norman masters. But for all that, they wentin awe of Reginald, and any such summons as this, outside thecommon order of their labouring day, brought them to questioningalert and wary, their faces closed, like a lid shut down over a boxof thoughts that might not all be acceptable to authority. But itwas different when they understood the subject of theirlord’s enquiry. The shut faces opened and eased. It was clearto Nicholas that none of these three felt he had any reason foruneasiness concerning that journey, rather they recalled it withpleasure, as well they might, the one carefree pilgrimage, the oneholiday of their lives, when they rode instead of going afoot, andwent well-provided and in the pride of arms.

Yes, of course they remembered it. No, they had had no troubleby the way. A lady accompanied by two good bowmen and two swordsmenhad had nothing to fear. The taller of the Saxon pair, it seemed,used the new long-bow, drawn to the shoulder, while John Bondecarried the short Welsh bow, drawn to the breast, of less range andpenetration than the long-bow, but wonderfully fast and agile inuse at shorter range. The other brother was a swordsman, and so hadthe fourth member been, the missing Adam Heriet. A good enoughcompany to travel briskly and safely, at whatever speed the ladycould maintain without fatigue.

“Three days on the way, my lord,” said the Saxonbowman, spokesman for all three, and encouraged with vehement nods,“and then we came into Andover, and because it was alreadyevening, we lay there overnight, meaning to finish the journey thenext morning. Adam found a lodging for the lady with amerchant’s household there, and we lay in the stables. It wasbut three or four miles more to go, so they told us.”

“And my sister was then in health and spirits? Nothing hadgone amiss?”

“No, my lord, we had a good journey. She was glad then tobe so close to what she wished. She said so, and thankedus.”

“And in the morning? You brought her on those fewmiles?”

“Not we, my lord, for she chose to go the rest of the waywith only Adam Heriet, and we were to wait in Andover for hisreturn, and so we did as we were ordered. And when he came, then weset out for home.”

To this the other two nodded firm assent, satisfied that theirerrand had been completed in obedience to the lady’s wishes.So it was only one, only her servant and familiar, according torepute, who had gone the rest of the way with Julian Cruce.

“You saw them ride for Wherwell?” demanded Reginald,frowning heavily at every complexity that arose to baulk him.“She went with him freely, content?”

“Yes, my lord, fresh and early in the morning they went. Afine morning, too. She said farewell to us, and we watched them outof sight.”

No need to doubt it. Only four miles from her goal, and yet shehad never reached it. And only one man could know what had becomeof her in that short distance.

Reginald waved them away irritably. What more could they tellhim? To the best of their knowledge she had gone where she hadmeant to go, and all was well with her. But as the three made forthe hall door, glad to be off to their beds, Nicholas saidsuddenly: “Wait!” And to his host: Two more questions,if I may ask them?”

“Do so, freely.”

“Was it the lady herself who told you it was her wish togo on with only Heriet, and ordered you to remain in Andover andwait for him?”

“No,” said the spokesman, after a moment’sthought, “it was Adam told us.”

“And they set out in the early morning, you said. At whathour did Heriet return?”

“Not until twilight, sir. It was getting dark when hecame. Because of that we stayed the night over, to make an earlystart for home next day.”

“There was another question I might haveadded,” said Nicholas, when he was alone with his host, andthe hall door stood open on the deepening dusk and quiet of theyard, “but I doubt he would have seen to his own horse, andafter a night’s rest there’d be no way of judging howfar it had been ridden. But see how the time testifies—threeor four miles to Wherwell, and he would have had no call to linger,once he had brought her there. Yet he was the whole day away,twelve hours or more. What was he about all that time? Yethe’s said to have been her devoted slave frominfancy.”

“It got him credit with my father, who also doted,”said Reginald sourly. “I knew little of him. But there he isat the heart of this, and who else is there? He alone rode with herthat last day. And came back here with his fellows, letting it beseen all had gone well, and the matter was finished. But betweenAndover and Wherwell my sister vanishes. And a month or so later,when our overlord, Earl Waleran, from whom we hold three manors,sends asking for men, who should be first to offer himself but thissame man? Why so ready to seize on a way of leaving here? For fearquestions should yet be asked, some day? Something untoward come tolight, and start the hunt?”

“Would he have come back at all,” wondered Nicholas,“if he had done her harm or any way betrayed her?”

“If he had wit enough, yes, and wit enough he surely had,for see how he has succeeded! If he had failed to return with theothers, there would have been a hue and cry at once. They wouldhave started it before ever they left Andover. As it is, threeyears are gone without a word or a shadow of doubt, and where isHeriet now?”

He had fastened on the notion now, tearing it with his teeth,savouring the inner rage he felt at any such thing being daredagainst his house. It was for that he would want revenge, if everit came to the proof, not for Julian’s own injuries. And yetNicholas could not but tread the same way with him. Who else wasthere, to have wiped out the very image and memory of that girlcommitted to his care? Two had ridden from Andover, one hadreturned. The other was gone from the face of the earth, vanishedinto air. It was hard to go on believing that she would ever beseen again.

A servant brought in a lamp, and refilled the pitcher of ale onthe table. The lady kept her chamber with her children, and leftthe men to confer without interruption. The night came down almostsuddenly, in the brief customary breeze that came with thishour.

“She is dead!” said Reginald abruptly, and spread alarge hand flat on the table.

“No, that’s not certain. And why should hedo such a thing? He lost his security here, for he dared not stay,once the chance of leaving offered. What was there to gain thatwould outweigh that? Is a man-at-arms in Waleran of Meulan’sservice better off than your trusted people here? I thinknot!”

“Service for half a year? If he stayed longer it was fromchoice, half a year was all that was demanded. And as for what hehad to gain—and by God, he was the only one of the four whocould have known the worth of it—my sister had three hundredsilver marks in her saddle-bags, besides a list of valuables meantfor her convent. I cannot recite you the whole tally off hand, butthey’re listed somewhere in the manor books, the clerk canlay hands on the record. I know there was a pair of silvercandle-holders. And such jewels as she had from her mother she alsotook in gift, having no further use for them herself in this world.Enough to tempt a man—even if he had to buy in a confederateto put a better face on the deed.”

And it could be so! A woman carrying her dowry with her, with afather and household satisfied of her well-being at home, and noone to wonder at her silence… But no, that could not beright, Nicholas caught himself up hopefully, not if she had alreadysent word of her coming ahead to Wherwell. Surely a girl intendingto take the veil must advance her plea and be sure of acceptancebefore venturing on the journey south. But if she had done so, thenthere would have been wonder at her failure to arrive, and rapidenquiry, and the prioress, had there ever been letters or a courierfrom Julian Cruce, would have known and remembered the name. No,she could not have bargained beforehand. She had taken her dowryand simply gone to knock on the door and ask admittance. He had notthe experience in such matters to know if that was very unusual,nor the cynicism to reflect that it would hardly be refused if theportion brought was large enough.

“This man Heriet will have to be found,” saidNicholas, making up his mind. “If he’s still servingwith Waleran of Meulan, then I may be able to find him. Waleran isthe king’s man. If not, he’ll be far to seek, but whatother choice have we? He’s native in this shire, is he? If hehas kin, they’ll be here?”

“He’s second son to a free tenant at Harpecote. Why,what are you thinking?”

“That you’d best have your clerk make two copies ofthe list of what your sister took with her when she left. The moneycan’t be traced and known, but it may be the valuables can.Have him describe them fully if he can. Plate meant for church usemay turn up on sale or be noted somewhere, so may gems. I’llhave the list circulated round Winchester—if thebishop’s well rid of his empress he may know now where hisinterest lies!—and try to find Adam Heriet amongMeulan’s companies, or get word when and how he left them.You do as much here, where if he has kin he may some day visit. Canyou think of anything better? Or anything more we canundertake?”

Reginald heaved himself up from the table, making the flame ofthe lamp gutter. A big, black-avised, affronted man, with a facegrimly set. “That’s well reasoned, and we’ll doit. Tomorrow I’ll have him copy the items—he’s afinicky little fellow who has everything at hisfinger-ends—and I’ll ride with you to Shrewsbury andsee Hugh Beringar, and have this matter in train before theday’s out. If this or any villain has done murder and robberyagainst my house, I want justice and I want restitution.”

Nicholas rose with his host, and went to the bed prepared forhim so weary that he could not fail to sleep. So did he wantjustice. But what was justice in this matter? He planned andthought as one following a trail, he must pursue it with all hispowers, having nothing else left to attempt, but he could not andwould not believe in it. What he wanted above everything else inthe world was a breath of some fresh breeze, blowing from anotherquarter, suggesting that she was not dead, that all this coil ofsuspicion and cupidity and treachery was false, a mere appearance,to be blown away when the morning came. But the morning came, andnothing was new, and nothing changed.

Thus two who had only one quest in common, and nothing besidesto make them allies, rode together back into Shrewsbury, armed withtwo well-scripted copies of the valuables and money Julian Crucehad carried with her as her dowry on entering the cloister.

Hugh had come down from the town to dine withAbbot Radulfus, and acquaint him with the latest developments inthe political tangle that was England. The flight of the empressback into her western stronghold, the scattering of a great part ofher forces, and the capture of Earl Robert of Gloucester, withoutwhom she was impotent, must transform the whole pattern of events,though its first effect was to freeze them from any action at all.The abbot might not have any interest in factional strife, but hewas entitled to the mitre and a place in the great council of thecountry, and the welfare of people and church was very much hisbusiness. They had conferred a long time over the abbot’swell-furnished table, and it was mid-afternoon when Hugh camelooking for Cadfael in the herb-garden.

“You’ll have heard? The word that Nicholas Harnagebrought me yesterday? He said he had come here first, to his lord.Robert of Gloucester is penned up in Rochester a prisoner, andeverything has halted while both sides think on what comesnext—we, how best to make use of him, they, how to survivewithout him.” Hugh sat down on the stone bench in the shade,and spread his booted feet comfortably. “Now comes theargument. And she had better order the king loosed from his chains,or Robert may find himself tethered, too.”

“I doubt if she’ll see it so,” said Cadfael,pausing to lean on his hoe and pluck out a wisp of weed frombetween his neat, aromatic beds. “More than ever, Stephen isher only weapon now. She’ll try to exact the highest possibleprice for him, her brother will scarcely be enough to satisfyher.”

Hugh laughed. “Robert himself takes the same line, byyoung Hamage’s account. He refuses to consider an exchangefor the king, says he’s no fair match for a monarch, and tobalance it fitly we must turn loose all the rearguard that weretaken with him, to make up Stephen’s weight in the scale. Butwait a while! If the empress argues in the same way now, within amonth wiser men will have shown her she can do nothing, nothing atall, without Robert. London will never let her enter again, muchless get within reach of the crown, and for all she has Stephen ina dungeon, he is still king.”

“It’s Robert they’ll have troublepersuading,” Cadfael reasoned.

“Even he will have to see the truth in the end. If she isto continue her fight, it can only be with Robert beside her.They’ll convince him. Reluctant as they all may be to loosetheir hold on him, we shall have Stephen back before theyear’s end.”

They were still there together in the garden when Nicholas andReginald Cruce, having enquired in vain for Hugh at the castle, asthey entered the town, and again at Hugh’s house by SaintMary’s church, as they passed through, followed thedirections given by his porter, and came purposefully hunting forhim at the abbey. At the sound of their boots on the gravel, andthe sight of them rounding the box hedge, Hugh rose alertly to meetthem.

“You’re back in good time. What news?” And tothe second man he said, eyeing him with interest: “I have notenjoyed your acquaintance until now, sir, but you are surely thelord of Lai. Nicholas here has told me how things stood atWherwell. You’re welcome to whatever service I can offer. Andwhat now?”

“My lord sheriff,” said Cruce loudly and firmly, asone accustomed to setting the pace for others to follow, “inthe matter of my sister there’s ground for suspicion ofrobbery and murder, and I want justice.”

“So do all decent men, and so do I. Sit down here, and letme hear what grounds you have for such suspicions, and where thefinger points. I grant you the matter looks ugly enough. Let meknow what you’ve found at home to add to it.”

It was over-hot in the afternoon sun, and even in shirtsleevesCruce was sweating freely. They moved back into the shade, andthere sat down together, and Cadfael, hospitable in his own domain,and by no means inclined to be ousted from it in the middle of hiswork, went instead to bring a pitcher of wine from his workshop,and beakers for their use. He served them and went aside, but notso far that he did not hear what passed. All that had gone beforehe already knew, and on certain points his curiosity was alreadypricked into wakefulness, and foresaw circumstances in which hemight yet be needed. His patient fretted over the girl, and couldnot afford further fraying away of what little flesh he had.Cadfael clove to his fellow-crusader in a solidarity of sharedexperience and mutual respect. One of those few, like Guimar deMassard, who came clean and chivalrous out of a very deformed andmarred holy war. And however gradually, dying of it. Whateverconcerned his welfare, body or soul, Cadfael wanted to know.

“My lord,” said Nicholas earnestly,“you’ll remember all I told you of the men of my lordCruce’s household who escorted his sister to Wherwell. Threeof the four we have questioned at Lai, and I am sure they have toldus truth. But the fourth… and he the only one whoaccompanied her on the last day of her journey, the last fewmiles—he is no longer there, and him we must find.”

They told the whole story between them, at times in chorus, veryvehemently.

“He left with her from Andover early in the morning, andthe other three, who had orders to remain there, watched themaway.”

“And he did not return until late evening, too late to setout for home that night. Yet Wherwell is but three or four milesfrom Andover.”

“And he alone of those four” said Cruce fiercely,“was so deep in her confidence from old familiarity that hemay well have known, must have known, the dowry she carried withher.”

“And that was?” demanded Hugh sharply. His memorywas excellent. There was nothing he needed to be told twice.

“Three hundred marks in coin, and certain valuables forchurch use. My lord, we have had my clerk, who keeps good accounts,write a list of what she took, and here we have two copies. The onewe hold you should circulate in these parts, where the man isnative, and so was my sister, and the other Hamage here will carryto make known round Winchester, Wherwell and Andover, where shevanished.”

“Good!” said Hugh heartily. “The coins cannever be certainly traced, but the pieces of church ornamentsmay.” He took the scroll Nicholas held out to him, and readwith lowered and frowning brows: “Item, a pair ofcandlesticks of silver, made in the form of tall sconces entwinedwith the vine, with snuffers attached by silver chains, alsoornamented with grape leaves. Item, a standing cross a man’shand-length in height, on a silver pedestal of three steps, andstudded with semi-precious stones of yellow pebble, amethyst andagate, together with a similar cross of the same metal and stones,a little finger’s length, on a thin silver neck-chain for apriest’s wear. Item, a silver pyx, small, engraved withferns. Also certain pieces of jewellery to her belonging, as, anecklet of polished stones from the hills above Pontesbury, abracelet of silver engraved with tendrils of vetch, and a curiousring of silver set with enamels all round, in the form of yellowand blue flowers.” He looked up. “Surely identifiableif they can be found, almost any of these. Your clerk did well.Yes, I’ll have this made known to all officers and tenants ofmine here in the shire, but it seems to me that in the souththey’re more likely to be traced. As for the man, ifhe’s native here he has kin, and may well keep in touch withthem. You say he went to do fighting service?”

“Only a matter of weeks after he returned to myfather’s household, yes. My father was newly dead, and theEarl of Worcester, my overlord, demanded a draft of men, and thisAdam Heriet offered himself.”

“How old?” asked Hugh.

“A year or so past fifty. A strong man with sword or bow.He had been forester and huntsman to my father, Waleran would thinkhimself lucky to get him. The rest were younger, butraw.”

“And where did this Heriet hail from? Your father’sman must belong to one of your own manors.”

“Born at Harpecote, a younger son of a free man who farmeda yardland there. His elder brother farmed it after him. A nephewhas it now. They were not on good terms, or so my father said. Butfor all that there may be some trace of him to be picked upthere.”

“Had they any other kin? And the fellow never took awife?”

“No, he never did. I know of no others of his family, butthere well may be some around Harpecote.”

“Let them be,” said Hugh decidedly. “It hadbest be left to me to probe there. Though I doubt if a man with noties here will have come back to the shire, once having taken tothe fighting life. More likely to be found where you’re boundfor, Nicholas. Do your best!”

“I mean to,” said Nicholas grimly, and rose to beoff about the work without delay. The scroll of Julian’spossessions he rolled and thrust into the breast of his coat.“I must say a word first to my lord Godfrid, and let him knowI’ll not abandon this hunt while there’s a grain ofhope left. Then I’m on the road!” And he was away at afast stride that became a light, long-paced run before he was outof sight. Cruce rose in his turn, eyeing Hugh somewhat grudgingly,as if he doubted to find in him a sufficient force of vengeful furyfor the undertaking.

“Then I may leave this with you, my lord? And you willpursue it vigorously?”

“I will,” said Hugh drily. “And you will be atLai? That I may know where to find you, at need?”

Cruce went away silenced, for the time being, but none toocontent, and looked back from the turn of the hedge dubiously, asif he felt that the lord sheriff should already have been onhorseback, or at least shaping for it, in the cause of Crucevengeance. Hugh stared him out coolly, and watched him round thethick screen of box and disappear.

“Though I had best move speedily,” he said then,wryly smiling, “for if that one found the fellow first Iwould not give much for his chances of escaping a few broken bones,if not a stretched neck. And even if it may come to that in theend, it shall not be at Reginald Cruce’s hands, nor without afair trial.” He clapped Cadfael heartily on the back, andturned to go. “Well, if it’s close season for kings andempresses, at least it gives us time to hunt the smallercreatures.”

Cadfael went to Vespers with an unquiet mind,troubled by imaginings of a girl on horseback, with silver andrough gems and coin in her saddle-bags, parting from her last knowncompanions only a few miles from her goal, and then vanishing likemorning mist in the summer sun, as if she had never been. A wisp ofvapour over the meadow, and then gone. If those who agonised afterher, the old and the young, had known her dead and with God, they,too, could have been at peace. Now there was no peace for any mandrawn into this elaborate web of uncertainty.

Among the novices and schoolboys and the child oblates, last oftheir kind, for Abbot Radulfus would accept no more infants into acloistered life decreed for them by others, Rhun stood rapt andradiant, smiling as he sang. A virgin by nature and aptitude, aswell as by years, untroubled by the bodily agonies that tore mostmen, but miraculously aware of them and tender towards them, as feware to pains that leave their own flesh unwrung.

Vespers at this time of year shone with filtered summer light,that showed Rhun’s flaxen beauty in crystalline pallor, andflashed across into the ranks of the brothers to burn in thesullen, smouldering darkness of Brother Urien, and the dilatedbrilliance of his black eyes, and cool into discreet shade whereBrother Fidelis stood withdrawn into the shadows of the wall, alertat his lord’s elbow, with no eyes and no thought for whatwent on around him, as he had no voice to join in the chant. Hisshadowed eyes looked nowhere but at Humilis, his slight body stoodbraced to receive and support at any moment the even frailer formthat stood lance-straight beside him.

Well, worship has its own priorities, and a duty once assumed isa duty to the end. God and Saint Benedict would understand andrespect that.

Cadfael, whose mind should also have been on higher things,found himself thinking: he dwindles before our eyes. It will beeven sooner than I had thought. There is nothing that can prevent,or even greatly delay it now.