Brother Cadfael 05: Leper of Saint Giles

they had picked up together from Domville's chaplain, who had a gift for music, and relished secular songs as well as the liturgy.
    Simon had made his way gradually a further quarter of a mile away from the river, still whistling his estampie at intervals, before he got a response. The thick bushes on his right rustled, a hand was put out to part them, and he caught the gleam of a wary eye peering out.
    "Joss?" he said in a whisper. Even if the hunt had not yet come this way, an inquisitive peasant gathering wood could give the alarm and spoil all. But the woodland silence hung undisturbed.
    "Simon?" He was slow to trust. "Are they making you their decoy? I never touched his damned gold."
    "I never thought you did. Hush, keep in cover!" Simon drew nearer, to hear and be heard in whispers. "I'm here alone, I came to look for you. You can't lie out tonight, soaked from the river. I can't get your horse out to you yet, he's locked away. And all the roads are barred. You'll have to sit it out in hiding a day or so, until they lose interest and grow slack. He'll give over wanting your blood, once tomorrow's over."
    The bushes shook with Joscelin's tremor of protest and detestation, for after tomorrow all would be lost, and all won. "God witness," he said through his teeth, "I'll not give over thirsting for his. If they do marry her, I can still widow her."
    "Hush, you fool, never say such things! Supposing others heard you! You're safe enough with me, I'll help you as best I can, but ... Be still and let me think!"
    "I can shift for myself," said Joscelin, rising cautiously erect in his covert, soiled and draggled, his fair hair plastered to his head still, but drying in wilful drifts of yellow at his temples. "You're a good fellow, Simon, but I advise you take no foolish risks for me."
    "What do you want me to do?" Simon sounded exasperated. "Stand back and let you be taken? See here, the safest place for you now, the one place they'll never think to look, is inside the bishop's grounds. Oh, not in house or stables or court, naturally. But that's the one household and garden this hunt is going to pass by. Everyone else's barns and byres will be ransacked. There's a hut in the corner of the grounds, by the door I came out at, where they store the hay from the back field. You could lie dry enough there, and I could bring you food - and the wicket in the wall we can bar inside, no one can come through from without. Then, if I can get Briar out to you somehow ... What do you say?"
    It was good sense enough, and Joscelin said yes to it with fervour and gratitude. What he did not say was that the want of a horse was nothing to him as yet, for he had no intention of going anywhere until either he had found some way of rescuing Iveta, or lost hope and heart and probably life in the attempt.
    "You're a good friend, and I won't forget it. But take care for yourself, one of us in this coil is enough. Listen!" He caught Simon by the wrist, and shook him earnestly. "If things fall out badly, and I'm ferreted out and taken, you knew nothing of it, I made my own way. Deny me, with all my goodwill. If there's meat or other matter to account for, I'll say I stole, and you'll let it rest at that. Promise! I should be ashamed if I brought you into question."
    "You'll not be taken," said Simon firmly.
    "No, but promise!"
    "Oh, very well, since you're so set, I'll let you stew - or at least go roundabout to hook you out of it. I like my skin whole, like most men, I'll take good care of it, one way or another. Come on, then! While things are quiet and I'm not missed."
    The way back was shorter, since they could make directly for the rear wall of the bishop's garden, and there was cover all the way. Once or twice Simon, going before, set up a soft whistling, and Joscelin dropped into the bushes, but each alarm passed in a moment, the small sounds that had set it off traced to birds taking flight, or wild things creeping among the dry brush. The wicket in the wall stood ajar as Simon had left it. He went first to open it cautiously and look round within, and then beckoned, and Joscelin dived through it thankfully, and heard it closed and barred behind him. And there was the low wooden fodder-store close against the wall. Within, it smelled of dry grass, and the fine dust stirred by their feet tickled the nose, and stung.
    "No one will come here," said Simon, low-voiced. "The stables in the yard are well stocked. And it's snug enough lying. Keep