Brother Cadfael 14: The Hermit of Eyton Forest

Bosiet,' asked Hugh, 'more than he has told me, or I have gleaned without his telling?'
    'Little enough, I expect. He's lord of several manors in Northamptonshire, and some little while since a villein of his, as like as not for a very good reason, laid his steward flat and put him to bed for some days, and then very wisely took to his heels before they could lay hands on him. Bosiet and his men have been hunting for the fellow ever since. They must have wasted a good while searching the rest of the shire, I fancy, before they got word from someone that he'd made for Northampton and seemed to be heading north and west. And between them they've followed this far, making drives in both directions from every halt. He must have cost them far above his value, valuable though they say he is, but it's his blood they're after first and foremost, and seemingly they set a higher price on that than on his craft, whatever that may be. There was a very vigorous hate there,' said Cadfael feelingly. 'He brought it to chapter with him. Father Abbot was not greatly taken with the notion of helping him to the sort of revenge he'd be likely to take.'
    'And shrugged him off on to me,' said Hugh, briefly grinning. 'Well, small blame to him. I took your word for it, and stayed out of his way as long as I could. In any case I could give him no help. What else do you know of him?'
    'That he has a groom named Warin, the one that rode with him, though not, it seems, on his last ride. Maybe he'd sent his man on some other errand, and couldn't wait once he got the word, but set off alone. He's - he was - a man who liked to use his fists freely on his servants, for any offence or none. At least he'd laid Warin's face open for him, and according to the groom that was no rarity. As for the son, according to Warin he's much like his father, and just as surely to be avoided. And he'll be coming from Stafford any day now.'
    'To find he has to coffin his father's body and take it home for burial,' said Hugh ruefully.
    'To find he's now lord of Bosiet,' said Cadfael. 'That's the reverse of the coin. Who knows which side up it will look to him?'
    'You're grown very cynical, old friend,' remarked Hugh, wryly smiling.
    'I'm thinking,' Cadfael owned, 'of reasons why men do murder. Greed is one, and might be spawned in a son, waiting impatiently for his inheritance. Hate is another, and a misused servant might entertain it willingly if chance offered. But there are other and stranger reasons, no doubt, like a simple taste for thieving, and a disposition to make sure the victim never blabs. A pity, Hugh, a great pity there should be so much hurrying on of death, when it's bound to reach every man in its own good time.'
    By the time they emerged on to the highroad at Wroxeter the sun was well up, and the mist clearing from its face, though the fields still swam in pearly vapour. They made good speed from there along the road to Shrewsbury, and rode in at the gatehouse after the end of High Mass, when the brothers were dispersing to their work until the hour of the midday meal.
    'The lord abbot's been asking after you,' said the porter, coming out from his lodge at sight of them. 'He's in his parlour, and the prior with him, and asks that you'll join him there.'
    They left their horses to the grooms, and went at once to the abbot's lodging. In the panelled parlour Radulfus looked up from his desk, and Prior Robert, very erect and austere on a bench beside the window, looked down his nose with a marked suggestion of disapproval and withdrawal. The complexities of law and murder and manhunt had no business to intrude into the monastic domain, and he deplored the necessity to recognise their existence, and the very processes of dealing with them when they did force a breach in the wall. Close to his elbow, unobtrusive in his shadow, stood Brother Jerome, his narrow shoulders hunched, thin lips drawn tight, pale hands folded in his sleeves, the image of virtue assailed and bearing the cross with humility. There was always a strong element of complacency in Jerome's humility, but this time there was also a faintly defensive quality, as though his rightness had somehow, if only by implication, been questioned.
    'Ah, you are back!' said Radulfus. 'You have not brought back the body of our guest so quickly?'
    'No, Father, not yet, they will be following us, but on foot it will take some time. It is just as Brother Cadfael reported it to you in the night. The man was