be right. And for the natural misfortunes that give him so much anxiety, mere men cannot control or command them, though faith may overcome them. What we cannot change we must abide. That is all.’
Without another word the boy made him a deep and graceful obeisance, turned, and walked without haste from the chapterhouse, lean and light-footed, and moving with a cat’s almost insolent elegance.
In the great court, almost empty at this hour when all the brothers were at chapter, the visitor was in no hurry to set out back to his master, but lingered to look about him curiously, from the abbot’s lodging in its small rose garden to the guest halls and the infirmary, and so round the circle of buildings to the gatehouse and the long expanse of the south range of the cloister. Richard, who had been lying in wait for him for some minutes, emerged confidently from the arched southern doorway, and advanced into the stranger’s path.
Since the intent was clearly to halt him, Hyacinth obligingly halted, looking down with interest at the solemn, freckled face that studied him just as ardently. ‘Good morrow, young sir!’ he said civilly. ‘And what might you want with me?’
‘I know who you are,’ said Richard. ‘You are the serving-man the hermit brought with him. I heard you say you came with a message from him. Was it about me?’
‘That I might better answer,’ said Hyacinth reasonably, ‘if I knew who your lordship might be, and why my master should be concerning himself with such small fry.’
‘I am not small fry,’ said Richard with dignity. ‘I am Richard Ludel, the lord of Eaton, and your master’s hermitage is on my land. And you know very well who I am, for you were there among the servants at my father’s funeral. And if you did bring some message that concerns me, I think I have a right to know about it. That’s only fair.’ And Richard jutted his small, square chin and stood his ground with bare feet spread apart, challenging justice with unblinking blue-green eyes.
For a long moment Hyacinth returned his gaze with a bright, speculative stare. Then he said in a brisk, matter-of-fact tone, as man to man and quite without mockery: ‘That’s a true word, and I’m with you, Richard. Now, where can we two talk at ease?’
The middle of the great court was, perhaps, a little too conspicuous for lengthy confidences, and Richard was sufficiently taken with the unmistakably secular stranger to find him a pleasing novelty among these monastic surroundings, and meant to get to know all about him now that he had the opportunity. Moreover, very shortly chapter would be ending, and it would not do to invite Prior Robert’s too close attention in such circumstances, or court Brother Jerome’s busybody interference. With hasty confidence he caught Hyacinth by the hand, and towed him away up the court to the retired wicket that led through the enclave to the mill. There on the grass above the pool they were private, with the wall at their backs and the thick, springy turf under them, and the midday sun still faintly warm on them through the diaphanous veil of haze.
‘Now!’ said Richard, getting down sternly to the matter in hand. ‘I need to have a friend who’ll tell me truth, there are so many people ordering my life for me, and can’t agree about it, and how can I take care of myself and be ready for them if there’s no one to warn me what’s in their minds? If you’ll be on my side I shall know how to deal. Will you?’
Hyacinth leaned his back comfortably against the abbey wall, stretched out before him shapely, sinewy legs, and half-closed his sunlit eyes. ‘I tell you what, Richard, as you can best deal if you know all that’s afoot, so can I be most helpful to you if I know the why and wherefore of it. Now I know the end of this story thus far, and you know the beginning. How if we put the two together, and see what’s to be made of them?’
Richard clapped his hands. ‘Agreed! So first tell me what was the message you brought from Cuthred today!’
Word for word as he had delivered it in chapter, but without the mimicry, Hyacinth told him.
‘I knew it!’ said the child, thumping a small fist into the thick grass. ‘I knew it must be some way about me. So my grandmother has cozened or persuaded even her holy man into arguing her cause for her. I heard about these things that have been happening in the coppice, but such things do happen now and then, who can prevent? You’ll need to warn your master not to be over-persuaded, even if she has made herself his patroness. Tell him the whole tale, for she won’t.’
‘So I will,’ agreed Hyacinth heartily, ‘when I know it myself.’
‘No one has told you why she wants me home? Not a word from your master?’
‘Lad, I just run his errands, he doesn’t confide in me.’ And it seemed that the unquestioning servitor was in no hurry about returning from this errand, for he settled his back more easily against the mosses of the wall, and crossed his slim ankles. Richard wriggled a little nearer, and Hyacinth shifted good-naturedly to accommodate the sharp young bones that leaned into his side.
‘She wants to marry me off,’ said Richard, ‘to get hold of the manors either side of mine. And not even to a proper bride. Hikrude is old at least twenty-two
‘A venerable age,’ agreed Hyacinth gravely.
‘But even if she was young and pretty I don’t want her. I don’t want any woman. I don’t like women. I don’t see any need for them.’
‘You’re in the right place to escape them, then,’ suggested Hyacinth helpfully, and under his long copper lashes his amber eyes flashed a gleam of laughter. ‘Become a novice, and be done with the world, you’ll be safe enough here.’
‘No, that’s no sport, neither. Listen, I’ll tell you all about it.’ And the tale of his threatened marriage, and his grandmother’s plans to enlarge her little palatine came tripping volubly from his tongue. ‘So will you keep an eye open for me, and let me know what I must be ware of? I need someone who’ll be honest with me, and not keep everything from me, as if I were still a child.’
‘I will!’ promised Hyacinth contentedly, smiling. ‘I’ll be your lordship’s liege man in the camp at Eaton, and be eyes and ears for you.’
‘And make plain my side of it to Cuthred? I shouldn’t like him to think evil of Father Abbot; he’s only doing what my father wanted for me. And you haven’t told me your name. I must have a name for you.’
‘My name is Hyacinth. I’m told there was a bishop so named, but I’m none. Your secrets are safer with a sinner than with a saint, and I’m closer than the confessional, never fear me.’
They had somehow become so content and familiar with each other that only the timely reminder of Richard’s stomach, nudging him that it was time for his dinner, finally roused them to separate. Richard trotted beside his
