Brother Cadfael 05: Leper of Saint Giles

you may be able to solve. Huon de Domville, as you may not have heard, dismissed all attendance when he rode to you, and no one in his household admits to knowing where he might have gone. Yet whoever waylaid and killed him on that path had either followed him far enough to judge that he must return the same way - or else, and far more likely, knew very well where he was bound. Whoever knew that, knew that you were there at the hunting-lodge. You have said that you always used great discretion, yet someone must have known."
    "Plainly I was not left to travel unescorted," she pointed out practically. "I daresay some among his old servants had a shrewd idea I should never be far away, but as for knowing where ... Who better than the one who brought me there at Huon's orders? Two days before Huon and his party came to Shrewsbury. I was always entrusted to one confidant, and only one. Why let in more? For the last three years it has been this same man."
    "Give him a name," said Brother Cadfael.
    Chapter Nine
    The sheriff had confined his morning drive to the nearer woods on the southern side of the Meole brook, his line spread like beaters for a hunt, each man just within sight of his neighbours on either hand, and all moving slowly and methodically forward together. And they had netted nothing for all that time and trouble. Nobody broke cover to run from them, nobody they sighted bore any resemblance to Joscelin Lucy. When they drew off to reform and break their fast they had made contact all along their line with the patrols watching the town's borders. The lepers at Saint Giles had come out curiously to watch their activities at the prescribed distance. Gilbert Prestcote was not pleased, and grew markedly short to question or address. Some others were better satisfied.
    "The lad's surely away home out of this long ago," said Guy hopefully to Simon, as they dismounted at the bishop's house to eat a hasty dinner. "I wish for my life, though, we could be certain of it. I could enjoy the hunt for him if I could be quite sure there's no fear of finding! It would be no hardship to see Picard's face grow blacker and blacker, and a delight if his horse put a foot in a badger's sett and threw him. The sheriff has his work to do, and no avoidance, but Picard has no such duty. Office is one thing, but venom's another."
    "He truly believes Joss killed the old man," said Simon, shrugging. "No wonder he's hot after him. All his own plans gone for nothing, and he's a man who'll have his revenge at all costs. Will you believe he's turned against me? I opened my mouth out of turn, and told him flatly I believed Joss never did theft or murder, and he flared at me like wildfire. I'm not welcome to him or his lady any more."
    "Do you tell me?" Guy gaped and sparkled. "And do you know you're drawn next to him in the line after dinner, when we head further out? Keep a weather eye on Picard, lad, and never turn your back on him, or he might be tempted, if he's at odds with you. I wouldn't trust that temper of his too far, and there's thicker cover where we're bound."
    He was not very serious, merely exuberant in his relief that his comrade and friend was still at liberty. His attention at the time was on his trencher, for the October air was keen, and provided a healthy young man with a voracious appetite.
    "The looks he gave me when he turned me out of Iveta's room," admitted Simon ruefully, "you could be right! I'll keep an eye on him, and be faster in the draw than he. We're to make our own way back as we please, when the light goes. I'll ensure I'm far enough ahead of him to keep clear of his blade. In any case," he said, with a swift private smile, "I have something important to see to before Vespers. I'll make certain he's not there to put a bolt through that." He sat back from the table, satisfied. "Where are you drawn, this time?"
    "Among the sheriff's sergeants, for my sins!" Guy grimaced and grinned. "Is it possible someone has suspected my heart may not be in it? Well, if I turn a blind eye, and they miss taking me up on it, I'm safe enough, they'll see to that. The sheriff's a decent man, but vexed and frustrated, with a murdered magnate on his hands, and King Stephen beginning to look this way. No wonder he's blowing bitter cold." He pushed back the bench on which he sat, and stretched, drawing breath deep. "Are you ready? Shall we go? I'll be main glad when we get home this night, and nothing trapped."
    They went out together,