Brother Cadfael 05: Leper of Saint Giles

face, Iveta de Massard saw the fate that awaited her rather as her own death than her bridegroom's.
    "I pray God help her!" said Mark fervently.
    "It may be," said Brother Cadfael, rather to himself than to his friend, "that he intends to. But it may also be that he has a right to expect a little support from men in setting about it."
    In the courtyard of the bishop's house in the Foregate, Huon de Domville's servants were unloading the pack-horses, and running about with bedding and hangings, and the finery that would grace the marriage service and the bridal bed. Domville's butler already had wine decanted for his master and Canon Eudo, who was a distant cousin, and the chamberlain had seen to it that there was firing and comfort waiting in the best chamber, a loose, warm gown after the rigor of riding clothes, furred slippers after the long, elegant boots had been drawn off. The baron sprawled in his cushioned chair, spread his thick legs, and nursed his mulled wine, well content. It was nothing to him that his bride's procession was drawing near from Saint Giles. He had no need and no desire to waste his time standing to watch his purchase go by; he was already sure of her, and he would be seeing enough of her after the marriage. He was here to conclude a bargain highly satisfactory to himself and to the girl's uncle and guardian, and though it was an agreeable bonus that the child happened to be young, beautiful and appetizing, it was of no very great importance.
    Joscelin Lucy turned over his horse to a groom, kicked a bale of napery out of his way, and was making off back to the gate and the road when his fellow Simon Aguilon, the oldest of the three squires in Domville's service, caught him by the arm.
    "Where are you off to so fast? He'll be bawling for you the minute he's emptied his first cup, you know that. It's your turn to wait on their nobilities!"
    Joscelin tugged at his flaxed thatch, and loosed a sharp bay of laughter. "What nobility? You saw as well as I did. Strike a poor devil who daren't strike back, and as near as death ride him down, for no offence in the world. Devil take such nobility! And devil take him and his thirst, too, until I've seen Iveta go by."
    "Joss, you fool," cautioned Simon urgently, "you'll let that tongue of yours wag too loud and once too often. Cross him now, and he'll toss you out naked to go home to your father and explain yourself, and how will that help Iveta? Or you, either?" He shook his head over his friend, though good-humouredly, and kept his hold on him. "Better go to him. He'll have your hide, else!"
    The youngest of the three turned from unsaddling his mount, and grinned at the pair of them. "Oh, let him have his glimpse, who knows how many more there'll be?" He clouted Joscelin amiably on the shoulder. "I'll go and run his errands for you this time. I'll tell him you're busy making sure all the butts of wine are handled gently, that'll please him. Go and gaze - though what good it will do either of you ..."
    "Will you, though, Guy? You're a good fellow! I'll take your turn of duty when you ask it!" And he was off again gatewards, but Simon flung an arm about his shoulders and bounded into step beside him.
    "I'll come with you. He won't need me for a white. But hear me, Joss," he went on seriously, "you take too many risks with him. You know he can advance you if you please him, it's what your father wants and expects, you're a fool to put your future in peril. And you can please him, if you give your mind to it, he's none so hard on us."
    They passed through the gate and stood in the angle of the wall, leaning shoulder to shoulder against the stone gate-pillar and gazing along the Foregate, two tall, strong young men, Simon the elder by three years, and the shorter by the width of a hand. The sullen, tow-headed lad beside him gnawed a considering lip, and scowled at the ground.
    "My future! What can he do to my future, more than toss me back to my father in disgrace, and what the devil need I care about that? There are two good manors will be mine, that he can't take from me, and there are other lords I could serve. I'm a man of my hands, I can hold my own with most ..."
    Simon laughed, shaking him rallyingly in the arm that circled his shoulders. "You can indeed! I've suffered from it, I know!"
    "There are lords enough wanting good men of their hands, now the empress is back in England, and the fight's on in earnest for the crown. I could fend! You could as