Brother Cadfael 03: Monk's Hood

curiously from the house-door beyond, and three children erupted one by one from that quarter to examine the customers fearlessly and frankly. A grave girl of about eleven, very housewifely and prim, a small, square boy of eight or so, and an elfin miss no more than four, with a wooden doll under her arm. All of them gazed and listened. The door to the house remained open and the sergeant had a loud, peremptory voice.
    "You have an apprentice here by the name of Edwin. My business is with him."
    "I have," agreed Martin loudly, rising and dusting the resin of polish from his hands. "Edwin Gurney, my wife's young brother. He's not yet home. He went down to see his mother in the Foregate. He should have been back before this, but I daresay she's wanted to keep him longer. What's your will with him?" He was still quite serene; he knew of nothing amiss.
    "He left his mother's house above two hours since," said the sergeant flatly. "We are come from there. No offence, friend, if you say he's not here, but it's my duty to search for him. You'll give us leave to go through your house and yard?"
    Martin's placidity had vanished in an instant, his brows drew into a heavy frown. His wife's beech-brown head appeared again in the doorway beyond, her fair, contented face suddenly alert and chill, dark eyes intent. The children stared unwaveringly. The little one, voice of natural justice in opposition to law, stated firmly: "Bad man!" and nobody hushed her.
    "When I say he is not here," said Martin levelly, "you may be assured it is true. But you may also assure yourselves. House, workshop and yard have nothing to hide. Now what are you hiding? This boy is my brother, through my wife, and my apprentice by his own will, and dear to me either way. Now, why are you seeking him?"
    "In the house in the Foregate where he visited this morning," said the sergeant deliberately, "Master Gervase Bonel, his stepfather, who promised him he should succeed to the manor of Mallilie and then changed his mind, is lying dead at this moment, murdered. It is on suspicion of his murder that I want this young man Edwin. Is that enough for you?"
    It was more than enough for the eldest son of this hitherto happy household, whose ears were stretched from the inner room to catch this awful and inexplicable news. The law nose-down on Edwin's trail, and Edwin should have been back long ago if everything had gone even reasonably well! Edwy had been uneasy for some time, and was alert for disaster where his elders took it for granted all must be well. He let himself out in haste by the back window on to the yard, before the officers could make their way into the house, clambered up the stacked timber and over the wall like a squirrel, and was away at a light, silent run towards the slope that dived riverwards, and one of the tight little posterns through the town wall, open now in time of peace, that gave on to the steep bank, not far from the abbot's vineyard. Several of the businesses in town that needed bulky stores had fenced premises here for their stock, and among them was Martin Bellecote's wood-yard where he seasoned his timber. It was an old refuge when either or both of the boys happened to be in trouble, and it was the place Edwin would make for if ... oh, no, not if he had killed; because that was ridiculous! ... but if he had been rejected, affronted, made miserably unhappy and madly angry. Angry almost to murder, but never, never quite! It was not in him.
    Edwy ran, confident of not being followed, and fell breathless through the wicket of his father's enclosure, and headlong over the splayed feet of a sullen, furious, tear-stained and utterly vulnerable Edwin.
    Edwin, perhaps because of the tear-stains, immediately clouted Edwy as soon as he had regained his feet, and was clouted in his turn just as indignantly. The first thing they did, at all times of stress, was to fight. It meant nothing, except that both were armed and on guard, and whoever meddled with them in the matter afterwards had better be very careful, for their practice on each other would be perfected on him. Within minutes Edwy was pounding his message home into bewildered, unreceptive, and finally convinced and dismayed ears. They sat down cheek by jowl to do some frantic planning.
    Aelfric appeared in the herb-gardens an hour before Vespers. Cadfael had been back in his solitude no more than half an hour then, after seeing the body cleansed, made seemly, and borne away into the