Brother Cadfael 06: A Virgin In The Ice

sounds ceased instantly, but the leaning branches of a beech sapling quivered and shed a few flakes of powdery snow.
    "You may come forth," said Cadfael mildly. "I am a monk of Shrewsbury, no threat to you or any. The goodman told you true."
    The boy stepped out of hiding and stood in the open ride, legs braced well apart, ready to run if he saw fit, or stand his ground sturdily. A small, stocky boy with a round shock-head of brown hair, large unwavering brown eyes, and a formidably firm mouth and chin belying the childish fullness of his cheeks. The bright blue cotte and cloak were somewhat soiled and crumpled now, as if he had slept wild in the woods in them, as perhaps he had, and there was a tear in one knee of the grey hose, but he still wore them with the large assurance of his own nobility. He had a little dagger at his belt, the sheath ornamented with silver, sign enough of his worth to have tempted many a man. He had fallen into good hands at this recent stay, whatever had happened to him earlier.
    "He said ..." The boy advanced a step or two, reassured. "His name is Thurstan. He and his wife have been good to me. He said that here was one I could trust, a Benedictine brother. He said you have been looking for us."
    "He said truly. For you, I think, must be Yves Hugonin."
    The boy said: "Yes. And may I come with you to Bromfield?"
    "Yves, very heartily you may, and a warm welcome you'll get from all those who are out hunting for you. Since you fled from Worcester your uncle d'Angers is come back from the Holy Land, and reached Gloucester only to hear you were lost, and he's been sending about to have you sought all through this shire. Main glad he'll be to get you back whole and well."
    "My uncle d'Angers?" The boy's face wavered between eagerness and doubt. "In Gloucester? But ... but it was men from Gloucester ..."
    "It was, we know, but none of his doing. Never trouble your head over the divisions that keep him from coming himself to find you, nor you nor I can help those. But we're pledged to return you to him safe and sound, and that you may rely on. But the search is for three, and here we are fobbed off with but one. Where are your sister and her governess?"
    "I don't know!" It came almost in a wail. The boy's resolute chin shook for a moment, and recovered gallantly. "I left Sister Hilaria safe at Cleeton, I hope she is safe there still, but what she would do when she found herself alone ... And my sister ... My sister is the cause of all this! She went off with her lover, in the night. He came for her, I am sure she sent him word to fetch her away. I tried to follow them, but then the snow came ..."
    Cadfael drew breath in mingled wonder, dismay and relief. Here was at least one of the three safely netted, another might be snug if distracted at Cleeton still, and the third, even if she had committed a great folly, seemed to be in the hands of someone who held her dear, and presumably meant her nothing but good. There might yet be a happy ending to all. But meantime, it bade fair to be a very long and confused story, and here was dusk falling, the rim of the sun already dipped, and several miles to go, and the best thing to be done was to get this one back to Bromfield, and make sure he did not wander to be lost again.
    "Come, let's get you home before night falls on us. Come up before me, your light weight won't worry this fellow. Your foot on mine, so ..." The boy had to reach high. His hand was firm and eager in Cadfael's, he came up with a spring, and settled himself snugly. His body, at first tensed, relaxed with a great sigh.
    "I have thanked Thurstan, and said farewell to him," he said in a soft, gruff voice, reviewing his own behaviour scrupulously. "I gave him half what was left in my purse, but it was not very much. He said he did not want nor need it, and I was welcome, but I had nothing else to give him, and I could not go and never leave a token."
    "There may be a time, some day, to visit him again," said Cadfael comfortably. The boy had been well brought up, and felt his status and its obligations. There was much to be said for the monastic education.
    "I should like that," said the child, wriggling himself warmly into the hollow of Cadfael's shoulder. "I would have given him my dagger, but he said I should need it, and what would he do with such a thing, when he dared not show it for fear of being thought to have stolen it."
    He seemed to have put away for the present his worries over