“No escort?” said Cadfael.
“To what end? Your eyes and mine are all we require here, and the fewer great boots stamping about the sward, the better. Come, before Aline wakes, she has a bird’s hearing, and I’d rather have her rest. Now, Philip, lead! You’re on your home turf, take us the quickest way.”
Aline and Emma were at breakfast, resigned to Hugh’s sudden and silent departures, when Ivo came asking admittance. Punctilious as always, he asked for Hugh.
“But as that husband of mine has already gone forth somewhere on official business,” said Aline, amused, “and as it’s certainly you he really wants to see, shall we let him in? I felt sure he would not go away without paying his respects to you yet again. He has probably been exercising his wits to find a way of ensuring it shan’t be the last time, either. He was hardly at his best last night, and no wonder, after so many shocks, and grazed and bruised from his fall.”
Emma said nothing, but her colour rose agreeably. She had risen from her bed with a sense of entering a life entirely new, and more her own to determine than ever it had been before. By this hour Master Thomas’s barge must be well down the Severn on its way home. She was relieved of the necessity of avoiding Roger Dod’s grievous attentions, and eased of the sense of guilt she felt in doing him what was probably the great wrong of fearing and distrusting his intentions towards her. Her belongings were neatly packed for travelling, in a pair of saddle-bags bought at the fair, for whatever was to become of her now, she would be leaving the abbey today. If no immediate escort offered for the south, she would go home with Aline, to await whatever arrangements Hugh could make for her, and in default of any other trustworthy provision, he himself had promised her his safe-conduct home to Bristol.
The bustle of departure filled the stable-yard and the great court, and half the rooms in the guest-hall had already been vacated. No doubt Turstan Fowler and the young groom were also assembling their lord’s purchases and effects, and saddling up the bay horse, returned to the abbey by an enterprising errand-boy who had been lavishly rewarded, and their own shaggy ponies. Two of them! The thud would be on a leading rein.
Emma felt cold when she remembered what had befallen the rider of the third pony, and the things he had done. So sudden a death filled her with horror. But the man had done murder, and had not scrupled to ride down his own lord when he was unmasked. It was unreasonable to blame Ivo for what had happened, even if his order had not been given in an understandable rage at the misuse of his patronage and the assault upon his own person. Indeed, Emma had been touched, the previous evening, when the very vehemence with which Ivo had defended his action had so clearly betrayed his own doubts and regrets. It had ended in her offering reassurance and comfort. It was a terrible thing in itself, she thought, to have the power of life and death over your fellowmen, whatever crimes they might have committed.
If Ivo had lacked something of his normal balance and confidence last night, he had certainly regained them this morning. His grooming was always immaculate, and his dress, however simple, sat upon his admirable body with a borrowed elegance. It had been hateful to him to be spilled into the dust, and rise limping and defaced before a dozen or more witnesses. This morning he had made sure of his appearance, and wore even the healing grazes on his left cheek like ornaments; but as soon as he entered, Emma saw that he was still limping after his fall.
“I’m sorry to have missed your husband,” he said as he came into the room where they were sitting, “but they tell me he’s already gone forth. I had a scheme to put to him for approval. Dare I put it to you, instead?”
“I’m already curious,” said Aline, smiling.
“Emma has a problem, and I have a solution. I’ve been thinking about it ever since you told me, Emma, two days ago, that you would not be returning to Bristol with the barge, but must find a safe escort south by road. I have no right at all to advance any claim, but if Beringar will consent to trust you to me . . . You need to get home, I’m sure, as quickly as you can.”
“I must,” said Emma, eyeing him with wondering expectation. “There are so many things I must see to there.”
Ivo addressed himself very earnestly to Aline. “I have a sister at Stanton Cobbold who is determined to take the veil, and the convent of her choice has consented to take her. And by luck it happens that she wished to join a Benedictine house, and the place is the priory at Minchinbarrow, which is some few miles beyond Bristol. She is waiting for me to take her there, and to tell the truth, I’ve been delaying to give her time to change her mind, but the girl’s set on her own way. I’m satisfied she means it. Now if you’ll confide Emma to my care, as I swear you may with every confidence, for it will be my pleasure to serve her, then why should not she and Isabel travel down very comfortably together? I have men enough to provide a safe guard, and naturally I should myself be their escort. That’s the plan I wanted to put to your husband, and I hope he would have felt able to fall in with it and give his approval. It’s great pity he is not here—”
“It sounds admirable,” said Aline, wide-eyed with pleasure, “and I’m sure Hugh would feel completely happy in trusting Emma to your care. Had we not better ask Emma herself what she has to say?”
Emma’s flushed face and dazzled smile were speaking for her. “I think it would be the best possible answer, for me,” she said slowly, “and I’m most grateful for so kind a thought. But I must really go as soon as possible, and your sister— you said, you wanted her to have time to be sure . . .”
Ivo laughed, a little ruefully. “I’ve already reached the point of giving up the hope of persuading her to stay in the world. Never fear that you may be forcing Isabel’s hand, ever since she was accepted she has been trying to force mine. And if it’s what she wants, who am I to prevent? She has everything ready, it will give her only pleasure if I come home to say that we can start tomorrow. If you’re willing to trust yourself to me alone for the few miles to Stanton Cob-bold, and sleep under our roof tonight, we can be on our way in the morning. We can provide you horse and saddle, if you care to ride, or a litter for the pair of you, as you please.”
“Oh, I can ride,” she said, glowing. “It would be a delight.”
“We would try and make it so. If,” said Ivo, turning his grazed smile almost diffidently upon Aline, “if I may have your approval, and my lord Beringar’s. I would not presume without that. But since this is a journey I must make, sooner or later, and Isabel insists the sooner the better, why not take advantage of it to serve Emma’s need, too?”
“It would certainly solve everything very happily,” agreed Aline. And there could be no doubt, thought Emma, bolstering her own dear wish with the persuasion of virtue, that Aline would be relieved and happy if Hugh could be spared a journey, and she several days deprived of his company. “Emma knows,” said Aline, “that she may choose as she thinks best, for both you and we, it seems, are equally at her service. As for approval, why, of course I approve, and so, I’m sure, would Hugh.”
“I wish he would put in an appearance,” said Ivo, “I should be the happier with his blessing. But if we are to go, I think we should set out at once. I know I said all’s ready with Isabel, but for all that we may need to make the most of this day.”
Emma wavered between her desire and her regret at leaving without making her due and grateful farewell to Hugh. But it was gain for him, great gain, to be rid of the responsibility he had assumed, and so securely as this promised. “Aline, you have been the soul of kindness to me, and I leave you with regret, but it is better to spare an extra journey, in such times, and then, Hugh has been kept so busy on my account already, and you’ve seen so little of him these days . . . I should like to go with Ivo, if you’ll give me your blessing. Yet I hate to go without thanking him properly . . .”