Brother Cadfael 09: Dead Man's Ransom

said Cadfael, but very dubiously. There's no great prize taken on the king's side? Though I doubt if the empress would let go of Stephen for any three of her best lords, even Robert himself, helpless as she'd be without him. No, she'll keep a fast hold of her prisoner, and make headlong for the throne. And do you see the princes of the church standing long in her way?'
    'Well,' said Hugh, stretching his slight body wincingly, discovering new bruises, 'my part at least I know. It's my writ that runs here in Shropshire now as the king's writ, and I'll see to it this shire, at least, is kept for the king.'
    He came down to the abbey, two days later, to attend the Mass Abbot Radulfus had decreed for the souls of all those dead at Lincoln, on both parts, and for the healing of England's raw and festering wounds. In particular there were prayers to be offered for the wretched citizens of the northern city, prey to vengeful armies and plundered of all they had, many even of their lives, and many more fled into the wilds of the winter countryside. Shropshire stood nearer to the fighting now than it had been for three years, being neighbour to an earl of Chester elated by success and greedy for still more lands. Every one of Hugh's depleted garrisons stood to arms, ready to defend its threatened security.
    They were out from Mass, and Hugh had lingered in speech with the abbot in the great court, when there was sudden bustle in the arch of the gatehouse, and a small procession entered from the Foregate. Four sturdy countrymen in homespun came striding confidently, two with bows strung and slung ready for action, one shouldering a billhook, and the fourth a long, handled pikel. Between them, with two of her escort on either side, rode a plump middleaged woman on a diminutive mule, and wearing the black habit of a Benedictine nun. The white bands of her wimple framed a rounded rosy face, well, fleshed and well, boned, and lit by a pair of bright brown eyes. She was booted like a man, and her habit kilted for riding, but she swung it loose with one motion of a broad hand as she dismounted, and stood alert and discreet, looking calmly about her in search of someone in authority.
    'We have a visiting sister,' said the abbot mildly, eyeing her with interest, 'but one that I do not know.' Brother Cadfael, crossing the court without haste towards the garden and the herbarium, had also marked the sudden brisk bustle at the gate, and checked at the sight of a well remembered figure. He had encountered this lady once before, and found her well worth remembering. And it seemed that she, also, recalled their meeting with pleasure, for the moment her eyes lit upon him the spark of recognition flashed in them, and she came at once towards him. He went to meet her gladly. Her rustic bodyguard, satisfied at having delivered her successfully where she would be, stood by the gatehouse, straddling the cobbles complacently, and by no means intimidated or impressed by their surroundings.
    'I thought I should know that gait,' said the lady with satisfaction. 'You are Brother Cadfael, who came once on business to our cell. I'm glad to have found you to hand, I know no one else here. Will you make me known to your abbot?'
    'Proudly,' said Cadfael, 'and he's regarding you this minute from the corner of the cloister. It's two years now... Am I to tell him he's honoured by a visit from Sister Avice?'
    'Sister Magdalen,' she said demurely and faintly smiled; and when she smiled, however briefly and decorously, the sudden dazzling dimple he remembered flashed like a star in her weathered cheek. He had wondered then whether she had not better find some way of exorcising it in her new vocation, or whether it might not still be the most formidable weapon in her armoury. He was aware that he blinked, and that she noted it. There was always something conspiratorial in Avice of Thornbury that made every man feel he was the only one in whom she confided. 'And my errand,' she said practically, 'is really to Hugh Beringar, for I hear Gilbert Prestcote did not come back from Lincoln. They told us in the Foregate we should find him here, or we were bound up to the castle to look for him.'
    'He is here,' said Cadfael, 'fresh from Mass, and talking with Abbot Radulfus. Over my shoulder you'll see them both.' She looked, and by the expression of her face she approved. Abbot Radulfus was more than commonly tall, erect as a lance, and sinewy, with a lean hawk, face and a