“And how has King Stephen stomached his loss?” askedCadfael curiously.

“As I’ve come to expect of him by this time,”said Hugh, with resigned affection. “As soon as the lady waswell out of it, Oxford castle surrendered to him. Without her,he’d lost interest in the rest of the starved rats within.Most men would have taken out their rage on the garrison. Once, asyou’ll remember all too well, he let himself be persuaded totake such a revenge, here at Shrewsbury, God knows against hisnature. Never again! As like as not, it was the memory ofShrewsbury that kept Oxford safe. He let them march out untouched,on condition they dispersed to their homes. He’s left thecastle well garrisoned and supplied for his own cause, and made offto Winchester with his brother the bishop, to keep Christmas. Andhe’s sent to call all his midland sheriffs there to keep itwith him. It’s long since he was in these parts, no doubthe’s anxious to look us over afresh, and make sure that allhis defenses hold fast.”

“Now?” said Cadfael, surprised. “ToWinchester? You’ll never make the journey in time.”

“Yes, we shall. We have four days, and according to thecourier the thaw’s well forward, farther south, and the roadsclear. I’ll be away tomorrow.”

“And leave Aline and your boy to keep the feast withoutyou! And Giles just past his third birthday, too!”Hugh’s son was a Christmas babe, and had entered the world inthe most extreme of winters, in frost and snow and bitter gales.Cadfael was his godfather and most devoted admirer.

“Ah, Stephen won’t keep us long,” said Hughconfidently. “He needs us where he placed us, to keep an eyeon his shire revenues. I shall be home by the year’s end, ifall goes well. But Aline will be glad if you could pay her a visitor two while I’m gone. Father Abbot won’t grudge youleave now and then, and that long lad of yours—Winfrid, isit?—he’s getting handy enough with the salves andmedicines to be left on his own for an hour or two.”