Brother Cadfael 14: The Hermit of Eyton Forest

doubted if the space between the stone mullions would be large enough to let a man through, but it might be wide enough for a ten-year-old boy, and one rather small for his years. With that low roof beneath the window, they would not want him to make his escape, nor would they want any inquisitive person to see him there within.
    It could at least be tried. Hyacinth leaped to get a hold of the overhanging eaves, and hauled himself up on to the shingles, to lie flat there against the stone wall, listening, though he had made little noise about it, and no one stirred to take note or investigate. He drew himself cautiously up the slope of the roof to the shuttered window. The timbers were heavy and solid, and secured somehow within the room, for when he laid a hand under the centre, where they joined, and essayed to pull them apart, they held fast as iron, and he had no tools to try and force them apart, and doubted if he could have done it even if he had had a whole armoury of implements. The hinges were strong and immovable. Neither top nor bottom of the shutters yielded to force even by a hair. There must be iron bolts that could be shot from within, and securely locked. And time was running out. Richard was strong-willed, obstinate and ingenious. If it had been possible for him to break out from his prison, he would have done it long ago.
    Hyacinth laid his ear to the hair-line crack, but could hear nothing moving within. He must now make sure whether he was wasting the time which was so precious and running out so fast. At the risk of being detected, he rapped with his knuckles against the shutter, and setting his lips to the tiny eye of light, sent a shrill whistle through the hole.
    This time there was an audible gasp somewhere in the room, then a rapid scrambling, as if someone had uncurled from being coiled defensively into a corner, set foot to floor, and taken a couple of startled steps across the room, only to halt again in doubt and alarm. Hyacinth rapped again, and called softly through the hole: 'Richard, is that you?'
    Light footsteps came in a rush, a small body crowded against the inner side of the shutters. 'Who is it?' whispered Richard's voice urgently, close to the crack of light. 'Who's there?'
    'Hyacinth! Richard, are you alone? I can't get in to you. Is all well with you?'
    'No!' breathed the voice in indignant complaint, and proving by its spirit and anger that in fact he was in very good heart and excellent condition. 'They won't let me out, they keep hammering and hammering at me to do what they want, and agree to be married. They're bringing her tonight, they're going to make me... '
    'I know,' groaned Hyacinth, 'but I can't get you out. And there's no time to get word to the sheriff. Tomorrow I could, but I saw them coming here tonight.'
    'They won't let me out until I do what they want,' Richard hissed grievously into the crack. 'I almost said I would. They go on and on at me, and I don't know what to do, and I'm frightened they'll only take me and hide me somewhere else if I refuse, because they know every house is being searched.' His voice was losing its bold, belligerent tone and faltering into distress. It's hard for a boy of ten to stand off for long the implacable adults who hold the upper hand. 'My grandmother promised I should have whatever I liked, whatever I wanted, if I'd say the words she wants me to say. But I don't want a wife... '
    'Richard... Richard... ' Hyacinth was repeating persistently into this lament, and for a while unheard. 'Listen, Richard! They'll have to bring a priest to marry you - not Father Andrew, surely, he'd have scruples - but someone. Speak to him, tell him it's against your will, tell him - Richard, have you heard who it's to be?' A new and arresting thought had entered his mind. 'Who is to marry you?'
    'I heard them,' whispered Richard, grown calm again, 'saying they couldn't trust Father Andrew. My grandmother is bringing the hermit with her to do it.'
    'Cuthred? You're sure?' Hyacinth had almost forgotten to keep his voice down in his astonishment.
    'Yes, Cuthred. Yes, I'm sure, I heard her say so.'
    'Richard, listen, then!' Hyacinth leaned close, his lips to the crack. 'If you refuse, they'll only visit it on you, and take you away somewhere else. Better for you to do what they want. No, trust me, do what I say, it's the only way we can foil them. Believe me, you won't have anything to fear, you won't be burdened with a wife, you're safe as in