"But Cadfael, surely I am well enough to get up now?" Hugh Beringar, Sheriff and brave soldier of King Stephen whined like an eight year old.
"Not until I say so," Cadfael repeated for the tenth time that day alone, "That wound of yours has felled men before, and you were very lucky to survive! And don't give me that look. You are in a lot more pain that you want to admit to either me or Aline."
The younger man sighed and leaned back into his pillows, unconsciously pressing one arm to his side as he did so, a move that told Cadfael he had been spot-on.
"It is just so frustrating to lay here and do nothing while the times are so troubled that there is always work that needs doing," Hugh admitted.
"I know, but they will have to make do without you for a while longer. Centuries have come and gone before you were born, my boy, and probably will long after you depart from this earth, so it will manage another fortnight now."
"Still 'boy', is it?" Hugh managed a pained smile, "you only ever called me that when you were displeased with me."
Cadfael frowned. "Well I am! First you risk your neck apprehending that villain, and now you keep trying to escape my care whenever I turn my back!"
Hugh grasped his friend's hand. "I know, and I am sorry. I have been taking out my frustration on you and Aline unfairly. Forgive me?" he begged with wide eyes and an expression on his face that he knew never failed to soften Cadfael.
Cadfael smiled, fully aware he was being manipulated but content to let it happen. "I do understand your frustration, Hugh, but I would not want you to suffer reopening that wound or infecting it. I shall make you a bargain. Stay in bed today and tomorrow without complaint or attempts to escape, and I shall promise to let you up the day after tomorrow, perhaps walk around the house if you feel well enough."
Hugh nodded his agreement.
"Now, I want you to sleep a little more."
"Can't," Hugh groaned, "side stings."
"And I thought you wanted to get up?"
"So I was a little overeager."
"So you were." Cadfael shook his head. "I will give you a little poppy juice mixed in some mead, but no more."
"It's good medicine though."
"It is. however like all medicine it is intended to be used in moderation."
Sipping the mead, and eyes already closing, Hugh simply allowed himself to be drawn into the heavy slumber that would undoubtedly occupy most of the day.
Aline entered. "Is he asleep?"
"Yes, girl, he is, you can safely enter now," a slight smirk played on Cadfael's lips.
"It is not that I do not love him," Aline's eyes sparkled, "but honestly, if he were Giles I'd have sent him to his room for whining so much. Of course, he already is in his room…"
"Yes, and that is the whole problem. We struck a bargain and he should give us no more trouble until the day after tomorrow."
"He is in so much more pain than he lets on," Aline stroked her husband's face lovingly, "my brave Hugh."
"Sometimes I wish he were a little less brave and a little more willing to submit to treatment when he needs it," Cadfael admitted ruefully, "but it is a good sign. The fear of infection has not yet left me completely, but I am hopeful he will come through this safely, as usual."
ssssssss
Five days later found Hugh sitting in a chair, propped up with pillows, near the fire. His first forays into the house had gone very well and Cadfael now allowed him out of bed for a few hours during the day.
The dark eyes watched Cadfael pack his scrip. "Must you return already? Aline and I rather like having you here, and I doubt Giles will let you go."
"You are doing much better, the wound is closing properly and I will be by every day to check on you and change the bandage. Radulfus has been most lenient allowing me to stay, but I must return home."
Hugh sighed. "I suppose you must. But what if the wound keeps me up at night and I can't sleep? Or what if my wife and child need me and I can't reach them?"
Cadfael resisted rolling his eyes. "I shall leave some poppy juice you can use when you can't sleep. Use it only when you need it. Aline is quite capable and there are always the servants to help her. If there really is a problem send a message and I will be here as soon as possible. Really, Hugh, it is not like you to be so insecure."
"I suppose." Hugh looked down for a moment before catching Cadfael's eye with his own old grin again. "Now go, shoo. If you hurry you will be just in time for Brother Jerome's pre-chapter lecture."
"Saints spare me," Cadfael raised his eyes to the heavens imploringly, "I keep my patience only by reminding myself that some things are on this earth solely to test and try us."
ssssssss
Abbot Radulfus looked pleased to see Cadfael enter the gates just as he was on his way to chapter.
"Ah, brother, welcome back. I trust you left Lord Beringar well?"
"Well and on the mend, Father. I have to ask your leave to tend to him daily for the next fortnight or so, but he should continue to recover with no problems."
"I am pleased," the Abbot smiled, "our prayers have been answered then. I would ask you to relay this fortunate news at chapter."
"Certainly, Father. I shall need to confer with Brother Edmund about the supplies for the infirmary and Saint Giles – I am behind on my brewing, I fear, and I dare not even think about the state of my gardens."
"I think you will find your gardens in better state than you suspect," the Abbots smile widened, "it seems three small boys have taken it upon themselves, under guidance of brother Oswin, to tend to it."
"Father?" Cadfael asked in surprise.
"Our new students, Robert FitzGerald's sons. The elder told me, when I happened upon them in your garden, that they owe you and the Lord Sheriff a debt of gratitude for avenging their father's murder when they could not. Young David is a very intense boy – too intense for his own good perhaps, but I trust under Paul's tutelage his character will be rounded out and mellowed over time."
"Paul has a way with the young ones," Cadfael nodded, "but it was but our duty to look for these villains. The children owe no debt for that."
"Ah, you and I know that, and Hugh Beringar will feel the same, but it would wound the little ones pride for it to be received with acknowledgement that they have indeed acquitted themselves of the debt. Pride that is too strong or misplaced is a sin, but hopefully these boys still have a future as nobles – they will need that sense of honor then."
"Is there news on the lands?"
"I am considering a course of action. The mother has written me, asking me to assume guardianship over the children since there are no other relatives who can do so. I am writing every contact of influence we still have in the Empress' camp, like Olivier de Bretagne, to petition her on the children's behalf."
"She will not be pleased to return lands to heirs who will be raised in Stephen's camp."
"True, but at least Abbeys are considered somewhat neutral parties," the Abbot grimly stated, "even though we cannot avoid the conflict. At any rate, granting this will win her favour with both her own followers. A few…hints…left and right that keeping those lands will almost certainly allow three boys to grow up as enemies to her cause…"
"They are very young, and she needs funds now."
"Yes, but she needs goodwill more. I am hoping that will influence her decision. If it comes to the worst, we will at least make certain the children have a good education to further themselves in the world."
sssssssss
Ten days later Cadfael no longer deemed it necessary to make daily trips to see how Hugh was doing. The wound was closed with no signs of infection, and time now would cure the rest.
Hugh did complain about sleeplessness, which Aline confirmed, so Cadfael left a small phial of poppy juice with Aline, again telling her to mix only a little of it in some wine or mead when needed.
A week after that he heard the familiar footsteps approach his workshop, slower and less sure footed than they had been, but he was pleased to hear them none the less.
"Cadfael," Hugh smiled, "my first slightly longer trip in weeks. I thought I'd come visit."
"I am glad you did," Cadfael beamed, "do sit down. Share some wine with me – I am very busy but I can spare a few moments. How is your wound?"
"Closed, and itching. The muscles are pulling as well." Hugh obediently pulled up his shirt to let Cadfael inspect the scar.
"Ah, that is to be expected," Cadfael nodded in approval when he saw the still vividly red but closed scar, "the itching is a sign that it is healing properly. There's little to be done about it, I fear, but give you the reassurance that it should not last long."
"That is good to hear," Hugh drank, "though it is still hard to sleep and the itching is not helping. In a few days I will join my men on some patrols in town – nothing trying for now, but it will be good to work again. I could do with a few good night's sleep before then."
"No doubt you could, but I will not give you more poppy juice. Medicins are good when used in moderation, and better when not used at all."
"Says the man who makes them," Hugh shifted uneasily, "but if I am to end up in another such skirmish – it is unlikely, but one can never know – and I am half mad from lack of sleep, the next time my opponent's dagger might not miss my heart."
"Then avoid such skirmishes," Cadfael said mildly, "there are other methods to encourage sleep. Warm milk, or some mead before bed." He looked up as if he had an epiphany. "Have Aline sing to you as she does to Giles. If it works for the boy it might work for you."
Hugh scowled. "She would, too, if I let her."
"Massaging, a little music…all natural things that induce drowsiness."
"Please, Cadfael."
"Why, I have even heard that entertaining intimate relationships with one's wife at night ensures a good night's sleep…"
"CADFAEL! Please…?"
"I will give you some herbs to make a tea from," Cadfael said, getting a short knife and cutting several leaves from herb bushels hanging from the ceiling, "here. Boil in hot water, let stew for a few moments and drink the extract."
The younger man sighed. "If you are certain it will work…"
"They are native plants, but a much safer option than taking so much poppy juice. Drink the tea, have Aline rub your shoulders before bed and sing or play to you while you fall asleep, and you'll see you will feel better very soon."
sssssss
A fortnight passed. Radulfus had sent petitions to every one of note he knew in the Empress's camp.
The answer came, and quite quickly.
The Empress had, as expected, denied the request.
"That was not unexpected," Radulfus said to Cadfael, with whom he could better speak of politics than any other in the cloister, "but it is not the only news. It seems FitzGerald had friends in the Empress's camp as well, and she allowed his friends to purchase land here. She made a donation to this cause…"
"As that would undoubtedly cost her much less than giving up the lands," Cadfael nodded.
"Quite. But, until Stephen is king and returns it, or the lady has a change of heart and fortune, it is the best we can do. With the donation and that of FitzGerald's friends, we should be able to purchase an appropriate manor for the boys, which with good stewardship, and in these days mostly good luck, will prosper enough to leave them a nearly equal inheritance as their fathers when they come of age."
"Yes. The only question remains is how to divide it among the children," Cadfael remarked, "as to their ambitions, if indeed they are old enough to make any assumptions about that, brother Paul should know."
"I asked him to be here so we can decide what needs to be done. And then I would like you, Cadfael, to go out and make the purchase. There are several candidates – manors that now have no heir, due to the war, or stand abandoned."
Brother Paul entered. "You sent for me, Father?"
"Yes, Paul, please, do sit. We are discussing your latest charges. What do you think of them, so far? Lords of a manor, all three of them?"
Paul shook his head without hesitation. "Oh no. David will be, no doubt, if his lands can be returned to him. Gerald would be thoroughly unhappy as Lord of a manor. And little Robert is really too young, but he has the makings of a crusader more than a settled country baron."
"Indeed? And Gerald, what do you see for him?"
"A scholar, without any doubt," Paul answered, "I should not be surprised if he joins the church long before he is of age – perhaps even take the cowl. His handwriting is already exceptional and when he desires to know something – which is often – he will not rest until he has learned every detail."
Cadfael smiled, having been responsible for satisfying the persistent child's hunger for knowledge on several occasions.
"Not everyone has the patience to deal with a child like that," Paul frowned, "he has run afoul of Brother Jerome recently, who was most harsh with him. I do hope he is not in trouble? The child meant no harm and you know, Father, that Jerome can be somewhat impatient."
"I had not heard of the incident," Father Abbot said, "while his manners should be groomed, a curiosity to learn should not be quenched."
"Indeed it should not," Cadfael heartily agreed, "I have given him some small part of the gardens – a few square feet – to do his own experimenting with plant growing, since he is so eager to know of it. He has my leave to tend to his garden when he wishes, Paul, as long as he does not enter my workshop or disturb my garden."
"We shall purchase a manor then, for David, and set aside sums, as well as part of the manor's profits, for Gerald and Robert. It may be used to apprentice Gerald and find a Lord who will take Robert as a squire, should he so desire when he grows up. Keep me apprised of the boys' progress, Paul."
"So you are leaving for some time again," Edmund watched Cadfael pack his horse.
"Aye, I am. While I do not mind my forays into the world, I shall have to work hard to catch up when I return. Perhaps I should convince Father Abbot to apprentice the second little scamp to me," he muttered to himself.
He waved a greeting to Edmund and Brother Porter, and spurred his horse forwards, on a job that would undoubtedly take him away from the Abbey at least another fortnight again.