“And the poor man a monk himself, for they knew him by his tonsure.”
“Come with me,” said Cadfael, “and we’ll put it to PriorRobert.”
Prior Robert heard the plea with sympathy, and raised no objection, since itwas not he who must ride out all those miles in haste, in what was now theshrewd grip of winter. He took the request in his turn to the abbot, and cameagain with his approval granted.
“Father Abbot bids you take a good horse from the stables, for you’ll needhim. You have leave for as long as may be necessary, and we’ll send and haveBrother Mark come in from Saint Giles in the meantime, for I think BrotherOswin is not yet practiced enough to be left in charge alone.”
Cadfael agreed, fervently but demurely. A willing and devoted soul, buthardly competent to look after all the winter ailments that might crop up inhis tutor’s absence. Mark would leave his lepers on the outskirts of the townwith regret, but God willing it need not be for very long.
“What of the roads?” he asked the messenger, who was stabling his own beastas Cadfael chose his. “You made good time here, and so must I back.”
“The worst is the wind, brother, but it’s blown the highroad almost clear inall but a few bad places. It’s the byways that are clean buried. If you leavenow you won’t fare too badly. Better going south than north, at least you’llhave the wind at your back.”
Cadfael took some thought over filling his scrip, for he had medicines,salves and febrifuges not to be found in every infirmary cupboard, and thecommoner sorts Bromfield could provide. The less weight he carried, the betterspeed he would make. He took stout boots and a thick travelling cloak over hishabit and belted the folds securely about his waist. If the errand had not beenso grim, he would have relished the prospect of a justified trip back into theworld, and the rare permission to take his pick of the stables. He hadcampaigned in wintry conditions as well as in burning sun, the snow did notdaunt him, though he was shrewd enough to respect it, and treat it withcaution.