When Hugh came to look for Cadfael he found him sitting at ease on the bench under the north wall, which at this time of day was pleasantly warm without being too hot, contemplating between admiration and regret the roses that bloomed with such extravagant splendour and wilted so soon. Hugh sat down beside him, rightly interpreting placid silence as welcome.
“Aline says it’s high time you came to see how your godson has grown.”
“I know well enough how much he will have grown,” said Giles Beringar’s godfather, between complacency and awe of his formidable responsibility. “Not two years old until Christmas, and too heavy already for an old man.”
Hugh made a derisive noise. When Cadfael claimed to be an old man he must either be up to something, or inclined to be idle, and giving fair warning.
“Every time he sees me he climbs me like a tree,” said Cadfael dreamily. “You he daren’t treat so, you are but a sapling. Give him fifteen more years, and he’ll make two of you.”
“So he will,” agreed the fond father, and stretched his lithe, light body pleasurably in the strengthening sun. “A long lad from birth-do you remember? That was a Christmas indeed, what with my son-and yours… I wonder where Olivier is now? Do you know?”
“How should I know? With d’Angers in Gloucester, I hope. She can’t have drawn them all into Winchester with her, she must leave force enough in the west to hold her on to her base there. Why, what made you think of him just now?”
“It did enter my head that he might have been among the empress’s chosen at Wherwell.” He had recoiled into grim recollection, and did not at first notice how Cadfael stiffened and turned to stare. “I pray you’re right, and he’s well out of it.”
“At Wherwell? Why, what of Wherwell?”
“I forgot,” said Hugh, startled, “you don’t yet know the latest news, for I’ve only just brought it within here, and I got it only last night. Did I not say they’d have to try to break out-the empress’s men? They have tried it, Cadfael, disastrously for them. They sent a picked force to try to seize Wherwell, no doubt hoping to straddle the road and the river there, and open a way to bring in supplies. William of Ypres cut them to pieces outside the town, and the remnant fled into the nunnery and shut themselves into the church. The place burned down over them… God forgive them for ever violating it, but they were Maud’s men who first did it, not ours. The nuns, God help them, had taken refuge there when the fight began…”
Cadfael sat frozen even in the sunlight. “Do you tell me Wherwell has gone the way of Hyde?”
“Burned to the ground. The church at least. As for the rest… But in so hot and dry a season…”
Cadfael, who had gripped him hard and suddenly by the arm, as abruptly loosed him, leaped from the bench, and began to run, veritably to run, as he had not done since hurtling to get out of range from the rogue castle on Titterstone Clee, two years earlier. He had still a very respectable turn of speed when roused, but his gait was wonderful, legless under the habit, like a black ball rolling, with a slight oscillation from side to side, a seaman’s walk become a headlong run. And Hugh, who loved him, and rose to pursue him with a very sharp sense of the urgency behind this flight, nevertheless could not help laughing as he ran. Viewed from behind, a Benedictine in a hurry, and a Benedictine of more than sixty years and built like a barrel, at that, may be formidably impressive to one who knows him, but must be comic.
Cadfael’s purposeful flight checked in relief as he emerged into the great court; for they were there still, in no haste with their farewells, though the horse stood by with a groom at his bridle, and Brother Fidelis tightening the straps that held Nicholas Harnage’s bundle and rolled cloak behind the saddle. They knew nothing yet of any need for haste. There was a whole sunlit day before the rider.
Fidelis wore the cowl always outdoors, as though to cover a personal shyness that stemmed, surely, from his mute tongue. He who could not open his mind to others shrank from claiming any privileged advance from them. Only Humilis had some manner of silent and eloquent speech with him that needed no voice. Having secured the saddle-roll the young man stepped back modestly to a little distance, and waited.
Cadfael arrived more circumspectly than he had set out from the garden. Hugh had not followed him so closely, but halted in shadow by the wall of the guest-hall.
There’s news,” said Cadfael bluntly. “You should hear it before you leave us. The empress has made an attack on the town of Wherwell, a disastrous attack. Her force is wiped out by the queen’s army. But in the fighting the abbey of Wherwell was fired, the church burned to the ground. I know no more detail, but so much is certain. The sheriff here got the word last night.”
“By a reliable man,” said Hugh, drawing close. “It’s certain.”
Nicholas stood staring, eyes and mouth wide, his golden sunburn dulling to an earthen grey as the blood drained from beneath it. He got out in a creaking whisper: “Wherwell? They’ve dared…?” “No daring,” said Hugh ruefully, “but plain terror. They were men penned in, the raiding party, they sought any place of hiding they could find, surely, and slammed to the door. But the end was the same, whoever tossed in the firebrands. The abbey’s laid waste. Sorry I am to say it.”
“And the women…? Oh, God… Julian’s there… Is there any word of the women?”
“They’d taken to the church for sanctuary,” said Hugh. In such civil warfare there were no sanctuaries, not even for women and children. “The remnant of the raiders surrendered-most may have come out alive. All, I doubt.”
Nicholas turned blindly to grope for his bridle, plucking his sleeve out of the quivering hand Humilis had laid on his arm. “Let me away! I must go… I must go there and find her.” He swung back to catch again briefly at the older man’s hand and wring it hard. “I will find her! If she lives I’ll find her, and see her safe.” He found his stirrup and heaved himself into the saddle.
“If God’s with you, send me word,” said Humilis. “Let me know that she lives and is safe.”
“I will, my lord, surely I will.”
“Don’t trouble her, don’t speak to her of me. No questions! All I need, all you must ask, is to know that God has preserved her,” and that she has the life she wanted. There’ll be a place elsewhere for her, with other sisters. If only she still lives!”
Nicholas nodded mutely, shook himself out of his daze with a great heave, wheeled his horse, and was gone, out through the gatehouse without another word or a look behind. They were left gazing after him, as the light dust of his passing shimmered and settled under the arch of the gate, where the cobbles ended, and the beaten earth of the Foregate began.
