Brother Cadfael 14: The Hermit of Eyton Forest

desperately round the abbot's ankles, wailed out an indistinguishable appeal into the skirts of the black habit and hung on tightly, half expecting to be plucked away by force, and certain no one could prevent it, if the attempt was made, except for this erect and stable rock to which he clung.
    The quiet which had been so roughly shattered had settled again with startling suddenness on the great court. Radulfus raised his intent and austere stare from the small figure hugging his ankles to the stout and confident man who had left the quivering horses sweating side by side, and advanced some paces to meet him, by no means abashed before the monastic authority.
    'My lord, this is somewhat unceremonious. We are not accustomed to such abrupt visitations,' said Radulfus.
    'My lord abbot, I regret being forced to disturb you. If our entry was unmannerly, I ask your pardon. For Richard rather than for myself,' said Fulke with conscious and confident challenge. 'His foolishness is the cause. I hoped to spare you this silly upheaval by overtaking him earlier and seeing him safely back home. Where I will take him now, and see that he does not trouble you so again.'
    It seemed that he was quite sure of himself, though he did not advance another step or reach out a hand to grasp the boy by the collar. He met the abbot's gaze eye to eye, unblinking. Behind Prior Robert's back the brothers broke ranks to come forth into the open and gather round in a discreet half-circle, to peer in awe at the crouching boy, who had begun to gasp out muffled protests and pleas, still incoherent, since he would not raise his head or relax the frantic grasp of his arms. After the brothers came the guests, no less interested in so unusual a spectacle. Cadfael, moving methodically round to a position from which he had a clear view, caught the detached but attentive eye of Rafe of Coventry, and saw the fleeting passage of a smile brush the falconer's bearded lips.
    Instead of answering Astley, the abbot looked down again with a frowning face at the boy at his feet, and said crisply: 'Stop your noise, child, and leave go of me. You are in no danger. Get up!'
    Richard slackened his hold reluctantly, and raised a face smudged with mud and the green of leaves from his falls, the sweat of his haste and fear, and a few frantic tears of relief from a terror seen now to be none too reasonable. 'Father, don't let him take me! I don't want to go back, I want to be here, I want to stay with Brother Paul, I want to learn. Don't send me away! I never meant to stay away, never! I was on my way back when they stopped me. I was on my way home, truly I was!'
    'It would seem,' said the abbot dryly, 'that there is some dispute here as to where your home is, since the lord Fulke is offering you safe-conduct there, whereas you are of the opinion that you are already arrived. What account you have to give of yourself can wait another occasion. Where you belong, it seems, cannot. Get up, Richard, at once, and stand erect as you should.' And he reached down a lean and muscular hand to take Richard by the forearm and hoist him briskly to his feet.
    For the first time Richard looked about him, uncomfortably aware of many eyes upon him, and a little galled at having to cut so dishevelled and soiled a figure before all the assembled brothers, let alone the indignant shame he felt at the stiffening snail-trails of tears on his cheeks. He straightened his back, and scrubbed hurriedly with a sleeve at his dirty face. He looked briefly for Brother Paul among the habited circle, and found him, and was a little comforted. And Brother Paul, who had been hard put to it not to run to his strayed lamb, put his trust in Abbot Radulfus, and kept his mouth shut.
    'You have heard, sir,' said the abbot, 'what Richard's preference is. No doubt you know that his father placed him here in my care, and wished him to remain here and study until he came of age. I have a claim to the custody of this boy by charter, duly witnessed, and it was from my care he disappeared some days ago. I have not so far heard what substance there may be in your claim on him.'
    'Richard changes his mind daily,' said Fulke, confidently loud, 'for only last night he went willingly in quite another direction. Nor do I hold that such a child should be left to choose by his own liking, when his elders are better judges of what's good for him. And as for my claim on the charge of him, you shall know it. Richard is my son by