Brother Cadfael 19: The Holy Thief

she go? She is mine! You are sure? No, she must be there, you have not had time to look for her..."
    "I left her there more than an hour ago," said Cadfael simply, "by Saint Winifred's altar. She is not there now. Look for yourself. Cynric found the church empty when he came to dress the altar."
    "She has fled me!" mourned R�, whitefaced and stricken, not simply protesting at the loss of his most valuable property, and certainly not lamenting a creature greatly loved. She was a voice to him, but he was true Proven� and true musician, and a voice was the purest of gold to him, a treasure above rubies. To own her was to own that instrument, the one thing in her he regarded. There was nothing false in his grief and dismay. "She cannot go. I must seek her. She is mine, I bought her. My lord, only delay until I can find her. She cannot be far. Two days longer... one day..."
    "Another search? Another frustration?" said the earl and shook his head decisively. "Oh, no! I have had dreams like this, they never lead to any ending, only barrier after barrier, baulk after baulk. She was indeed, she is, a very precious asset, R�, a lovely peal in her throat, and a light, true hand on organetto or strings. But I have been truant all too long, and if you want my alliance you had best ride with me now, and forget you paid money for what is beyond price. It never profits. There are others as gifted, you shall have the means to find them and I'll guarantee to keep them content."
    What he said he meant, and R� knew it. It took him a great struggle to choose between his singer and his future security, but the end was never in doubt. Cadfael saw him swallow hard and half-choke upon the effort, and almost felt sorry for him at that moment. But with a patron as powerful, as cultivated and as durable as Robert Beaumont, R� of Pertuis could hardly be an object for sympathy very long.
    He did look round sharply for a reliable agent here, before he gave in. "My lord abbot, or you, my lord sheriff, I would not like her to be solitary and in want, ever. If she should reappear, if you hear of her, I beg you, let me have word, and I will send for her. She has always a welcome with me."
    True enough, and not all because she was valuable to him for her voice. Probably he had never realized until now that she was more than a possession, that she was a human creature in her own right, and might go hungry, even starve, fall victim to villains on the road, come by harm a thousand different ways. It was like the flight of a nun from childhood, suddenly venturing a terrible world that gave no quarter. So, at least, he might think of her, thus seeing her whole in the instant when she vanished from his sight. How little he knew her!
    "Well, my lord, I have done what I can. I am ready."
    They were gone, all of them, streaming out along the Foregate towards Saint Giles, Robert Beaumont, earl of Leicester, riding knee to knee with Sub-Prior Herluin of Ramsey, restored to good humour by the recovery of the fruits of his labours in Shrewsbury, and gratified to be travelling in company with a nobleman of such standing; Robert's two squires riding behind, the younger a little disgruntled at having to make do with an unfamiliar mount, but glad to be going home; Herluin's middle-aged layman driving the baggage cart, and Nicol bringing up the rear, well content to be riding instead of walking. Within the church their hoofbeats were still audible until they reached the corner of the enclave, and turned along the Horse Fair. Then there was a grateful silence, time to breathe and reflect. Abbot Radulfus and Prior Robert were gone about their lawful business, and the brothers had dispersed to theirs. It was over.
    "Well," said Cadfael thankfully, bending his head familiarly to Saint Winifred, "an engaging rogue, and harmless, but not for the cloister, any more than she was for servility, so why repine? Ramsey will do very well without him, and Partholan's queen is a slave no longer. True, she's lost her baggage, but that she would probably have rejected in any case. She told me, Hugh, she owned nothing, not even the clothes she wore. Now it will please her that she has stolen only the few things on her back."
    "And the boy," said Hugh, "has stolen only a girl." And he added, glancing aside at Cadfael's contented face: "Did you know he was there, when you followed her in?"
    "I swear to you, Hugh, I saw nothing, I heard nothing. There was nothing whatever even to