So he might be, but a boy in school was hardly likely to submithimself voluntarily to an interview with so awesome a personage.Richard’s solemn face had settled into the brooding frown ofone making his way through unfamiliar and thorny paths. He made hisparting reverence and went out briskly enough, and Brother Paul,having watched him out of sight from the window, and seen no signsof imminent distress, went to report to the abbot what DameDionisia Ludel was said to be planning for her grandson.

Radulfus heard him out with alert attention and a thoughtfulfrown. To unite Eaton with both its neighbouring manors was anunderstandable ambition. The resulting property would be a power inthe shire, and no doubt the formidable lady considered herself morethan capable of ruling it, over the heads of bride, bride’sfather and infant bridegroom. Land greed was a strong drivingforce, and children were possessions expendable for so desirable aprofit.

“But we trouble needlessly,” said Radulfus, shakingthe matter resolutely from his shoulders. “The boy is in mycare, and here he stays. Whatever she may intend, she will not beable to touch him. We can forget the matter. She is no threat toRichard or to us.”

Wise as he might be, this was one occasion when Abbot Radulfuswas to find his predictions going far astray.

Chapter Two

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They were all at chapter, on the twentiethmorning of October, when the steward of the manor of Eatonpresented himself, requesting a hearing with a message from hismistress.

John of Longwood was a burly, bearded man of fifty, with abalding crown and neat, deliberate movements. He made a respectfulobeisance to the abbot, and delivered his errand bluntly andpractically, as one performing a duty but without committinghimself to approval or disapproval.

“My lord, Dame Dionisia Ludel sends me to you with herdevout greetings, and asks that you will send back to her, in mycharge, her grandson Richard, to take up his rightful place as lordof the manor of Eaton in his father’s room.”