persuasions of affection and the ties of blood to work upon the boywith tears and blandishments, and turn him into a homesick ally inthe enemy camp. If she had any such ideas, Cadfael reflected,studying Richard’s face along the way, she wasunder-estimating the innocent shrewdness of children. The boy wasquite capable of weighing up his own interests and making the mostof what advantages he had. He was happy enough at school, he hadcompanions of his own age, he would not lightly abandon a known andpleasant life for one as yet strange, devoid of brothers, andthreatened with a bride already old in his eyes. No doubt he valuedand longed for his inheritance, but his it was, and safe, andwhether he stayed at school or came home, he would not yet beallowed to rule it as he wished. No, it would take more thangrandmotherly tears and embraces to secure Richard’salliance, especially tears and embraces from a source never beforeknown to be demonstratively fond.

It was a matter of seven miles or more from the abbey to themanor of Eaton, and for the honour and dignity of the monastery ofSaint Peter and Saint Paul, in attendance on so solemn an occasion,they were sent forth mounted. Dame Dionisia had sent a groom with astout Welsh pony for her grandson, perhaps as a first move in acampaign to enlist him as her ally, and the gift had been receivedwith greedy pleasure, but it would not therefore necessarilyproduce a return in kind. A gift is a gift, and children are shrewdenough, and have a sharp enough perception of the motives of theirelders, to take what is offered unsolicited, without the leastintention of paying for it in the fashion expected of them. Richardsat his new pony proudly and happily, and in the fine, dewy autumnmorning and the pleasure of being loosed from school for the day,almost forgot the sombre reason for the ride. The groom, along-legged boy of sixteen, loped cheerfully beside him, and ledthe pony as they splashed through the ford at Wroxeter, where