He looked up with a dark, sidelong smile into Cadfael’sattentive and thoughtful face. “A very sound move. He needsto know what measure of loyalty he has to rely on, after a year inprison, or close on a year. But there’s no denying it maybring me a fall.”
For Cadfael it was a new and jolting thought. Hugh had steppedinto the office of sheriff perforce, when his superior, GilbertPrestcote, had died of his battle wounds and the act of a desperateman, at a time when the King was already a prisoner in Bristolcastle, with no power to appoint or to demote any officer in anyshire. And Hugh had served him and maintained his peace herewithout authority, and deserved well of him. But now that he wasfree to make and break again, would Stephen confirm so young and sominor a nobleman in office, or use the appointment to flatter andbind to himself some baron of the march?
“Folly!” said Cadfael firmly. “The man is afool only towards himself. He made you deputy to his man out ofnowhere, when he saw your mettle. What does Aline say ofit?”
Hugh could not hear his wife’s name spoken without a wild,warm softening of his sharp, subtle face, nor could Cadfael speakit without relaxing every solemnity into a smile. He had witnessedtheir courtship and their marriage, and was godfather to their son,two years old this coming Christmastide. Aline’s girlish,flaxen gentleness had grown into a golden, matronly calm to whichthey both turned in every need.