“And that troubles you,” said Elave sharply. “Why should it matter? What is it you have in mind? Is there some threat to her? Are you afraid for her?”
“Let’s say I should be glad to know that she’s safe at home. As surely she must be. Afraid, no! But you must remember there is a murderer loose among us, and close to that household, and I would rather she kept to home and safe company than go anywhere alone. But as for today, I left Hugh Beringar keeping a close watch on the house and all who stir in and out of it, so set your mind at rest.”
They had neither of them been paying any attention to the passing sounds without, the brief ring of hooves distant across the court, the rapid exchange of voices, short and low, and then the light feet coming at an impetuous walk. It startled them both when the door of the cell was flung open before a gust of evening air and the abrupt entry of Hugh Beringar.
“They told me I should find you here,” he said, high and breathless with haste. “They say the girl is not here, and has not been since yesterday. Is that true?”
“She has not come home?” said Cadfael, aghast.
“Nor she nor the other. The dame’s beginning to be anxious. I thought best to come down and fetch the girl home myself if she was still here, but now I find she has not been here, and I know she is not at home, for I’m fresh come from there. So long away, and not where she said she’d be!”
Elave clutched at Cadfael’s arm, shaking him vehemently in his bewilderment and alarm. “The other? What other? What is happening? Are you saying she may be in danger?”
Cadfael fended him off with a restraining arm, and demanded of Hugh: “Have you sent to the workshop?”
“Not yet! She might have been here, and safe enough. Now I’m going there myself. Come with me! I’ll see you excused to Father Abbot afterward.”
“I will well!” said Cadfael fervently, and was starting for the door, but Elave hung upon him desperately, and could not be shaken off.
“You shall tell me! What other? What man? Who is it threatens her? The workshop
whose?” And on the instant he knew, and moaned the name aloud: “Jevan! The book?you believe in it
You think it was he
?” He was on his feet, hurling himself at the open doorway, but Hugh stood solidly in his way, braced between the jambs.
“Let me go! I will go! Let me out to go to her!”
“Fool!” said Hugh brusquely. “Don’t make things worse for yourself. Leave this to us, what more could you do than we can and will? Now, with the bishop already here, see to your own weal, and trust us to take care of hers.” And he shifted aside enough to order Cadfael, with a jerk of his head: “Out, and fit the key!” and forthwith gripped Elave struggling in his arms, and bore him back to trip him neatly with a heel and tip him onto his bed. By the time he had sprung again like a wildcat, Hugh was outside the door, Cadfael had the key in the lock, and Elave thudded against the timber with a bellow of rage and despair, still a prisoner.
They heard him battering at the door and shouting wild appeals after them as they made for the gatehouse. They would surely hear him right across the court and into the guest hall, all the windows being open to the air.
“I sent to saddle up a horse for you,” said Hugh, “as soon as I heard she was not here. I can think of nowhere else she might have gone, and seeing he went back there
Has she been searching? Did he find out?”
The porter had accepted the sheriff’s orders as if they came from the abbot himself, and was already leading a saddled pony up from the stableyard at a brisk trot.
“We’ll go straight through the town, it’s quicker than riding around.”
The thunderous battering on the cell door had already ceased, and Elave’s voice was silent. But the silence was more daunting than the fury had been. Elave nursed his forces and bided his time.
“I pity whoever opens that door again tonight,” said Cadfael breathlessly, reaching for the rein. “And within the hour someone will have to take him his supper.”
“You’ll be back with better news by then, God willing,” said Hugh, and swung himself into the saddle and led the way out to the Foregate.
Between the bells that signaled the offices of the horarium, Elave’s timepiece was the light, and he could judge accurately the passing of another clear day by those he had already spent in this narrow room. He knew, as soon as he drew breath and steeled himself into silence, that it could not be long now before the novice who brought his food would come with his wooden platter and pitcher, expecting nothing more disturbing than the courteous reception to which he had become accustomed, from a prisoner grimly resigned to patience, and too just to blame a young brother under orders for his predicament. A big, strapping young man they had chosen for the duty, with a guileless face and a friendly manner. Elave wished him no ill and would do him none if he could help it, but whoever stood between him and the way to Fortunata must look out for himself.
Yet the very arrangement of the cell was advantageous. The window and the desk beneath it were so situated that the opening door partly obscured them from anyone entering, until the door was closed again, and the natural place for the novice to set down his tray was on the end of the bed. Visit by visit he had lost all wariness, having had no occasion for it thus far, and his habit was to walk in blithely, pushing the door wide open with elbow and shoulder, and go straight to the bed to lay down his burden. Only then would he close the door and set his broad back to it, and pass the time of morning or evening companionably until the meal was done.
Elave withdrew from the indignity of shouting appeals that no one would heed or answer, and settled down grimly to wait for the footsteps to which he had grown used. His nameless novice had a giant’s stride and a weighty frame, and the slap of his sandals on the cobbles was more of a hearty clout. There was no mistaking him, even if the narrow lancet of window had not afforded a glimpse of the wiry brown ring of his tonsure passing by before he turned the corner and reached the door. And there he had to balance his tray on one hand while he turned the key. Ample time for Elave to be motionless behind the door when the young man walked in as guilelessly as ever, and made straight for the bed.
