Brother Cadfael 17: The Potter's Field

supply lines when his stores ran low. Manned by the experienced Flemish mercenaries, familiar with fighting in flat lands and among complex waterways, such a ring of forts could hold what had been gained through the winter, until conditions were more favourable to open manoeuvring.

    

It was nearing the end of November when Hugh found himself and his levy briskly thanked and dismissed. He had lost no men killed, and had only a few minor wounds and grazes to show, and was heartily glad to withdraw his men from wallowing in the quagmires round Cambridge and set out with them north-westward towards Huntingdon, where the royal castle had kept the town relatively secure and the roads open. From there he sent them on due west for Kettering, while he rode north, heading for Peterborough.

    

He had not paused to consider, until he rode over the bridge of the Nene and up into the town, what he expected to find there. Better, perhaps, to approach thus without expectations of any kind. The road from the bridge brought him up into the marketplace, which was alive and busy. The burgesses who had elected to stay were justified, the town had so far proved too formidable to be a temptation to de Mandeville while there were more isolated and defenceless victims to be found. Hugh found stabling for his horse, and went afoot to look for Priestgate.

    

The shop was there, or at least a flourishing silversmith's shop was there, open for business and showing a prosperous front to the world. That was the first confirmation. Hugh went in, and enquired of the young fellow sitting at work in the back of the shop, under a window that lit his workbench, for Master John Hinde. The name was received blithely, and the young man laid down his tools and went out by a rear door to call his master. No question of any discrepancy here, the shop and the man were here to be found, just as Sulien had left them when he made his way west from Ramsey.

    

Master John Hinde, when he followed his assistant in from his private quarters, was plainly a man of substance in the town, one who might well be a good patron to his favoured religious house, and on excellent terms with abbots. He was perhaps fifty, a lean, active, upright figure in a rich furred gown. Quick dark eyes in a thin, decisive face summed up Hugh in a glance.

    

'I am John Hinde. How can I help you?' The marks of the wearisome lurking in wet, windswept ambushes, and occasional hard riding in the open, were there to be seen in Hugh's clothes and harness. 'You come from the king's muster? We have heard he's withdrawing his host. Not to leave the field clear for de Mandeville, I hope?'

    

'No such matter,' Hugh assured him, 'though I'm sent back to take care of my own field. No, you'll be none the worse for our leaving, the Flemings will be between you and danger, with at least one strong-point well placed to pen them into their island. There's little more or better he could do now, with the winter coming.'

    

'Well, we live as candles in the breath of God,' said the silversmith philosophically, 'wherever we are. I've known it too long to be easily frightened off. And what's your need, sir, before you head for home?'

    

'Do you remember,' said Hugh, 'about the first or second day of October, a young monk sheltering here with you overnight? It was just after the sack of Ramsey, the boy came from there, commended to you, he said, by his abbot. Abbot Walker was sending him home to the brother house at Shrewsbury, to take the news of Ramsey with him along the way. You remember the man?'

    

'Clearly,' said John Hinde, without hesitation. 'He was just at the end of his novitiate. The brothers were scattering for safety. None of us is likely to forget that time. I would have lent the lad a horse for the first few miles, but he said he would do better afoot, for they were all about the open countryside like bees in swarm then. What of him? I hope he reached Shrewsbury safely?'

    

'He did, and brought the news wherever he passed. Yes, he's well, though he's left the Order since, and returned to his brother's manor.'

    

'He told me then he was in doubts if he was on the right way,' agreed the silversmith. 'Walter was not the man to hold on to a youngster against his inclination. So what is it I can add, concerning this youth?'

    

'Did he,' asked Hugh deliberately, 'notice a particular ring in your shop? And did he remark upon it, and ask after the