Brother Cadfael 14: The Hermit of Eyton Forest

to every man to keep a sharp lookout for Richard, too. Granted you're a good steward, John, not even you can know what mouse has crept into every byre and sheep fold and storehouse on the manor of Eaton. And that's what I mean to know, here and everywhere between here and Shrewsbury. Go in and tell Dame Dionisia I'm asking to speak with her.'
    John shook his head helplessly, and went. Hugh dismounted, and advanced to the foot of the stairs that led up to the hall door, above the low undercroft, waiting to see how Dionisia would bear herself when she emerged from the broad doorway above. If she really had not heard of the boy's disappearance until this moment, when her steward would certainly tell her, he could expect a fury, fuelled all the more by genuine dismay and grief. If she had, then she had had time to prepare herself to present a fury, but even so she might let slip something that would betray her. As for John, his honesty was patent. If she had the boy hidden away, John had had no part in it. He was not an instrument she would have used for such a purpose, for he was stubbornly determined to be Richard's steward rather than hers.
    She came surging out from the shadow of the doorway, blue skirts billowing, imperious eyes smouldering.
    'What's this I hear, my lord? It surely cannot be true! Richard missing?'
    'It is true, madam,' said Hugh watching her intently, and undisturbed by the fact of having to look up to do it, as indeed he would have had to do even if she had come darting down the steps to his level, for she was taller than he. 'Since the night before last he's been gone from the abbey school.'
    She flung up her clenched hands with an indignant cry. 'And only now am I told of it! Two nights gone! Is that the care they take of their children? And these are the people who deny me the charge of my own flesh and blood! I hold the abbot responsible for whatever distress or harm has come to my grandson. The guilt is on his head. And what are you doing, my lord, to recover the child? Two days you tell me he's been lost, and late and laggard you come to let me know of it... '
    The momentary hush fell only because she had to stop to draw breath, standing with flashing eyes at the head of the steps, tall and greying fair and formidable, her long patrician face suffused with angry blood. Hugh took ruthless advantage of the lull, while it lasted, for it would not last long.
    'Has Richard been here?' he demanded bluntly, challenging her show of furious deprivation and loss.
    She caught her breath, standing open-mouthed. 'Here! No, he did not come here. Should I be thus distraught if he had?'
    'You would have sent word to the abbot, no doubt,' said Hugh guilelessly, 'if he had come running home? They are no less anxious about him at the abbey. And he rode away alone, of his own will. Where should we first look for him but here? But you tell me he is not here, has not been here. And his pony has not come wandering home to his old stable?'
    'He has not, or I should have been told at once. If he'd come home riderless,' she said, her nostrils flaring, 'I would have had every man who is mine scouring the woods for Richard.'
    'My men are busy this minute doing that very thing,' said Hugh. 'But by all means turn out Richard's people to add to the number, and welcome. The more the better. Since it seems we've drawn blank,' he said, still thoughtfully studying her face, 'and after all, he is not here.'
    'No,' she blazed, 'he is not here! No, he has not been here! Though if he left of his own will, as you claim, perhaps he meant to come home to me. And for whatever has befallen him on the way I hold Radulfus to blame. He is not fit to have charge of a noble child, if he cannot take better care of him.'
    'I will tell him so,' said Hugh obligingly, and went on with aggravating mildness: 'My present duty is to continue the search, then, both for Richard and for the thief who killed an abbey guest in Eyton forest. You need not fear, madam, that my search will not be thorough. Since I cannot expect you to make daily rounds of every corner of your grandson's manor, no doubt you'll be glad to allow me free access everywhere, to do that service for you. You'll wish to set the example to your tenants and neighbours.'
    She gave him a long, long, hostile look, and as suddenly whirled on John of Longwood, who stood impassive and neutral at her elbow. In the gale of her movements her long skirt lashed like the tail of an angry