Brother Cadfael 14: The Hermit of Eyton Forest

of Dionisia's people happened on him alone in the woods, they'd know how to please their lady. Oh, I know the household there are Richard's people, not hers, but there must be one or two among them would take the chance of present favours if it offered. Cadfael, old friend,' said Hugh heartily, 'you go back to your workshop and leave Eaton to me. As soon as I've set my men on the hunt, yes, for both, I'll go myself to Eaton and see what the lady has to say for herself. If she baulks at letting me turn her manor inside out for the one lad, I shall know she has the other hidden away somewhere about the place, and I can force her hand. If Richard's there, I'll have him out for you by tomorrow, and back in Brother Paul's arms,' promised Hugh buoyantly. 'Even if it costs the poor imp a whipping,' he reflected with a sympathetic grin, 'he may find that preferable to being married off on his grandmother's terms. At least the sting doesn't last so long.'
    Which was a very perverse blasphemy against marriage, Cadfael thought and said, coming from one who had such excellent reason to consider himself blessed in his wife and proud of his son. Hugh had wheeled his horse towards the steep slope of the Wyle, but he slanted a smiling glance back over his shoulder.
    'Come up to the house with me now, and complain of me to Aline. Keep her company while I'm off to the castle to start the hunt.'
    And the prospect of sitting for an hour or so in Aline's company, and playing with his godson Giles, now approaching three years old, was tempting, but Cadfael shook his head, reluctantly but resignedly. 'No, I'd best be going back. We'll all be busy hunting our own coverts and asking along the Foregate until dark. There's no certainty where he'll be, we dare miss no corner. But God speed your search, Hugh, for it's more likely than ours.'
    He walked his horse back over the bridge towards the abbey with a slack rein, suddenly aware he had ridden far enough for one day, and looked forward with positive need to the stillness and soul's quiet of the holy office, and the vast enclosing sanctuary of the church. The thorough search of the forest must be left to Hugh and his officers. No point even in spending time and grief now wondering where the boy would spend the coming night, though an extra prayer for him would not come amiss. And tomorrow, thought Cadfael, I'll go and visit Eilmund, and take him his crutches, and keep my eyes open on the way. Two missing lads to search for. Find one, find both? No, that was too much to hope for. But if he found one, he might also be a long step forward towards finding the other.
    There was a newly-arrived guest standing at the foot of the steps that led up to the door of the guest hall, watching with contained interest the continuing bustle of a search which had now lost its frenetic aspect and settled down grimly into the thorough inspection of every corner of the enclave, besides the parties that were out enquiring along the Foregate. The obsessed activity around him only made his composed stillness the more striking, though his appearance otherwise was ordinary enough. His figure was compact and trim, his bearing modest, and his elderly but well-cared-for boots, dark chausses and good plain cotte cut short below the knee, were the common riding gear of all but the highest and the lowest who travelled the roads. He could as well have been a baron's sub-tenant on his lord's business as a prosperous merchant or a minor nobleman on his own. Cadfael noticed him as soon as he dismounted at the gate. The porter came out from his lodge to plump himself down on the stone bench outside with a gusty sigh, blowing out his russet cheeks in mild exasperation.
    'No sign of the boy, then?' said Cadfael, though plainly expecting none.
    'No, nor likely to be, not within here, seeing he went off pony and all. But make sure first here at home, they say. They're even talking of dragging the mill-pond. Folly! What would he be doing by the pool, when he went off at a trot along the Foregate - that we do know. Besides, he'll never drown, he swims like a fish. No, he's well away out of our reach, whatever trouble he's got himself into. But they must needs turn out all the straw in the lofts and prod through the stable litter. You'd best hurry and keep a sharp eye on your workshop, or they'll be turning that inside out.'
    Cadfael was watching the quiet dark figure by the guest hall. 'Who's the newcomer?'
    'One Rafe of Coventry. A