Brother Cadfael 14: The Hermit of Eyton Forest

law, with his grandmother's full knowledge and consent. Last night he was married to my daughter.'
    The shiver of consternation that went round the circle of awestricken watchers subsided into absolute stillness. Abbot Radulfus was not shaken outwardly, but Cadfael saw the lines of his gaunt face tighten, and knew that the shaft had gone home. Such a consummation had been plotted long since by Dionisia, this self-important neighbour was little more than her instrument in the affair. What he announced could very well be true, if they had had the boy in their hands all this time that he had been missing. And Richard, who had stiffened and jerked up his head, open-mouthed to cry that it was false, met the abbot's stern eyes fixed steadily upon him, and was utterly confounded. He was afraid to lie to that judicial countenance, indeed he admired as much as he feared, and he did not wish to lie, and confronted with this flat declaration he found himself at a loss to know what was truth. For they had married him to Hiltrude, and simple denial was not enough. A last bolt of fright went through him and took his breath away, for how if Hyacinth was himself deceived, and the vows he had tamely repeated had bound him for life?
    'Is this true, Richard?' asked Radulfus.
    His voice was level and quiet, but in the circumstances seemed to Richard terrible. He gulped down words that would not do, and Fulke, impatient, answered for him: 'It is true, and he cannot deny it. Do you doubt my word, my lord?'
    'Silence!' said the abbot peremptorily, but still quietly. 'I require Richard's answer. Speak up, boy! Did this marriage indeed take place?'
    'Yes, Father,' faltered Richard, 'but it is not -'
    'Where? With what other witnesses?'
    'At Leighton, Father, last night, that is true, but still I am not -'
    He was cut off again, and submitted with a sob, frustrated and growing indignant.
    'And you spoke the words of the sacrament freely, of your own will? You were not forced? Beaten? Threatened?'
    'No, Father, not beaten, but I was afraid. They did so hammer at me -'
    'He has been reasoned with, and he was persuaded,' said Fulke shortly. 'Now he takes back what he granted yesterday. He spoke his part without hand being laid on him. Of his own will!'
    'And your priest undertook this marriage willingly? Assured that the consent of both was freely given? A good man, of honest repute?'
    'A man of known holiness, my lord abbot,' said Fulke triumphantly. 'The country folk call him a saint. The holy hermit Cuthred!'
    'But, Father,' Richard cried with the courage of desperation, determined to get out at last the plain, untangled truth of it, 'I did what I did so that they'd let me go free, and I could get back to you. I did say the vows, but only because I knew they could not be binding. I am not married! It was not a marriage, because -'
    Both the abbot and Fulke broke into speech, sternly overriding his outburst and ordering his silence, but Richard's blood was up. If it must out here before everyone, then it must. He clenched his fists, and shouted loudly enough to fetch a stony echo from the walls of the cloister: '- because Cuthred is not a priest!'
    Chapter Twelve
    In the general ripple and stir of astonishment, doubt and outrage that passed like a sudden gust of wind through the entire assembly, from Prior Robert's indignant snort to the inquisitive and half-gleeful whisperings and shiftings among the novices, the thing that was clearest of all to Cadfael was that Fulke Astley stood utterly confounded. Never had he had the least notion what was coming, it had taken his breath away. He stood dangling his arms in curious helplessness, as though something of his own being had slipped from his grasp and left him lame and mute. When he had recovered breath enough to speak at all he said what would have been expected of him, but without the confidence of conviction, rather forcibly thrusting the very suggestion away from him in panic.
    'My lord abbot, this is madness! The boy is lying. He'll say anything to serve his turn. Of course Father Cuthred is a priest! The brothers of Savigny from Buildwas brought him to us, ask them, they have no doubts. There has never been any question. This is wickedness, so to slander a holy man.'
    'Such slander would indeed be wickedness,' agreed Radulfus, fixing his deep-set eyes and lowered brows formidably upon Richard. 'Think well, sir, before you repeat it. If this is a device to get your way and remain here with