William sat up. He wiped his face with his sleeve and looked around for Brother Snail. The monk was lying in a puddle nearby. William leaned over and shook his shoulder. “Brother Snail? Are you all right?”
The monk moaned softly. William knelt over him anxiously.
“What have we done, Will?” Brother Snail whispered. Mud streaked his face, and his habit was wet with puddle water. William stood up and, as gently as he could, helped Brother Snail to his feet. The monk held tightly to William’s arm for support.
By now, a small crowd of manor servants had gathered around them. William recognized several of them from his hour spent in the kitchen. They whispered and muttered between themselves as they wondered what was going on. Master Brice took charge of Brother Snail.
“Come with me back to the kitchen now, Brother, and let’s get you cleaned up,” the cook said soothingly, as if he were speaking to a small child. He led the monk toward the open door of the cross passage. “The rest of you, get back to work.”
William noticed a group of stonemasons watching the commotion from the far end of the courtyard. Master Guillaume and Reynaud were amongst them. They stood silently, glancing up at the shuttered windows of Sir Robert’s private chambers and staring with open hostility at William.
“What happened?” one of the kitchen servants asked, peering curiously at William. Finding two visitors from the abbey lying in puddles was not something that happened every day. William ducked his head and pushed past him.
William stood in the manor doorway and tried to find the courage to go up the stairs after Master Woodcote. He felt guilty that he hadn’t tried to warn the steward what was waiting for him up there. But more than that, he was worried about Shadlok. Had the demon attacked him, too? Was he dead? William had just put a foot on the bottom step when he heard voices. To his enormous relief, he realized one of them was Shadlok’s, and the other was Master Woodcote’s. He hurried up the staircase and into Sir Robert’s chambers.
The demon had gone. William was surprised to see that Sir Robert wasn’t dead after all. He was lying on the floor by one of the windows, moaning softly. The shutter had been pulled open, allowing a little daylight into the room. Master Woodcote was leaning over Sir Robert, his plump face white with shock. Shadlok was kneeling nearby and rubbing away the chalk marks on the floor with a cloth. The demon’s circle, however, had been burned deeply into the floorboards. The ash from the bowl stirred in the draft from the open door and lifted in a fine gray cloud. It mingled with the chalk dust swirling slowly in the light from the window.
“Where did the demon go?” William asked.
Shadlok sat back on his heels and glanced at William. “I do not know, but it has not gone very far. I can still feel it close by. How is the monk?”
“He’s very shaken. Master Brice has taken him to the kitchen.” William thought of the cook’s good-humored face. “He’s in safe hands.” He nodded to Sir Robert. “Will he be all right?”
Shadlok shrugged. “Who knows?”
“Help me to get Sir Robert to his bed. I can’t carry him on my own,” Master Woodcote said to Shadlok. He glanced at William. “Open the bedchamber door, boy, it’s behind the hanging on the end wall, and pull back the bed coverings.”
William hauled the heavy coverings to the foot of the bed and stood back as Shadlok and the steward lowered the unconscious man onto the mattress. William saw an angry red burn on Sir Robert’s forehead where the demon had touched him.
“Fetch Brother Snail. He may be able to help Sir Robert,” Master Woodcote said. “Put the carpets and furniture back as quickly as you can, before anyone sees something they shouldn’t.” He frowned over his shoulder at them. “I am sure I don’t need to tell either of you not to talk about what has happened here today with anyone. All they need to know is that Sir Robert was taken ill.”
“Nobody will believe that,” William said. Too many stories were already flying about, thanks to the stonemasons.
“They will believe what they are told,” the steward said grimly.
Between them, William and Shadlok laid the carpets and dragged the furniture back into place. When they had finished, William asked, “What will happen now that the demon is free?”
“Nothing good, I am sure.” Shadlok opened the rest of the shutters. The late afternoon sunlight splashed gold on the floor and lit up the colors in the carpets. Everything looked much as it had before, but there was a subtle change, as if in spite of the light coming through the windows, a shadow had settled over the chamber. The expensive luxury of the room had dimmed and there was an atmosphere within the walls that left William feeling on edge. Traces of the demon seemed to linger on the dusty air.
William was glad to escape from the chamber. He ran all the way to the kitchen, ignoring angry mutters from the stonemasons when he passed them in the kitchen yard. He found Brother Snail sitting by the hearth, a cup of warmed and spiced small beer in his hands. The color had returned to his cheeks. His damp habit had been wiped clean of mud and was drying in the heat from the fire.
“Master Woodcote wants you to come and see if there’s anything you can do for Sir Robert.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Master Brice asked, sounding surprised.
“I don’t know,” William said truthfully, “but he’s unconscious.”
Brother Snail set the cup down on the hearthstones and pushed himself up out of the chair, gripping the back for support. “I will come immediately.”
The cook looked worried. “I’ll send for Dame Alys, Brother. She’s skilled at healing people and can help you.”
“I don’t think that is necessary,” the monk said, with a quick glance at William. “Thank you for your hospitality, Master Brice.”
“You’re sure?” the cook said doubtfully. “People here at the manor usually send for the dame when they’re ill. Young Wat can run and fetch her. He has a nimble pair of legs and will be back with her in no time.”
Brother Snail didn’t look happy at the prospect of the wise woman coming to the manor, but he said nothing. Perhaps he realized that Master Brice was likely to send for her anyway.
William accompanied Brother Snail as far as the door to the manor house. “I’ll go find the hob and tell him what’s happened,” he said.
The monk nodded and said, “We will have to take word of our failure to the prior at Bethlehem. It’s too late to set out today, but you and Shadlok must go first thing tomorrow.”
“We can’t leave you here by yourself,” William protested, “especially if Dame Alys comes to the manor, not now that her demon is free.”
“It doesn’t matter, Will. Nowhere is safe now. I might just as well be here tending to Master Robert as hidden away at Bethlehem.” Brother Snail sounded weary. He bowed his head and closed his eyes for a moment. His next words seemed to cost him dearly, and there was deep sadness in his voice when he spoke again. “And when you have delivered the message to the prior, you and Shadlok should leave Crowfield. He will take care of you. Find somewhere far from here and begin your life again.”
William stared at him, too shocked to speak for a moment. “You want me to leave? But what about you and the hob?”
The monk patted his arm. “We will take our chances, but I will rest easy knowing you are safe.”
William shook his head. “No, I won’t go. I’m staying and so is Shadlok.”
The monk opened his mouth to argue, but William turned and walked away without giving him a chance to get a word out. He knew Brother Snail meant well, but the monk didn’t know him at all if he thought William could live with himself after abandoning the two people he loved most in the world. He knew the hob wasn’t a person as such, but the hob and Brother Snail were his family now. He had already lost one family, he wasn’t about to lose a second.