The empress had sent over into France, less than a year ago, toplead for help from her husband, but Count Geoffrey of Anjou,whether he believed in his wife’s claim to the throne ofEngland or not, had no intention of sending over to her aid forceshe himself was busy using adroitly and successfully in the conquestof Normandy, an enterprise which interested him much more thanMaud’s pretensions. He had sent over, instead of the knightsand arms she needed, their ten-year-old son.

What sort of father, Cadfael wondered, could this count of Anjoube? It was said that he set determined store upon the fortunes ofhis house and his successors, and gave his children a goodeducation, and certainly he had every confidence, justifiably, inEarl Robert’s devotion to the child placed in his charge. Butstill, to send a boy so young into a country disrupted by civilwar! No doubt he had Stephen’s measure, of course, and knewhim incapable of harming the child even if he got him into hishands. And what if the child himself had a will of his own, even atso tender an age, and had urged the venture in his own right?

Yes, an audacious father might well respect audacity in his son.No doubt, thought Cadfael, we shall hear more of this HenryPlantagenet who’s minding his lessons and biding his time inBristol.

“I must be off,” said Hugh, rising and stretchinglazily in the warmth of the sun. “I’ve had my fill ofclerics for today—no offense to present company, but, then,you’re no cleric. Did you never fancy taking minor orders,Cadfael? Just far enough to claim the benefit if ever one of yourless seemly exploits came to light? Better the abbot’s courtthan mine, if ever it came to it!”

“If ever it came to it,” said Cadfael sedately,rising with him, “the likelihood is you’d need to keepyour mouth tight shut, for you’d be in it with me nine timesout of ten. Do you remember the horses you hid from theking’s roundup when—”