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Chapter Nine. I n the abandoned farmstead where Owain had setup his headquarters, a mile from the edge of Otir’s camp,Cadwaladr set forth the full tale of his grievances

×èòàéòå òàêæå:
  1. Chapter 1
  2. CHAPTER 1
  3. CHAPTER 10
  4. Chapter 10
  5. Chapter 10
  6. Chapter 11
  7. Chapter 11
  8. CHAPTER 11
  9. Chapter 12
  10. Chapter 12
  11. CHAPTER 12
  12. Chapter 13

«^»

I n the abandoned farmstead where Owain had setup his headquarters, a mile from the edge of Otir’s camp,Cadwaladr set forth the full tale of his grievances, with somediscretion because he spoke in the presence not only of hisbrother, but of Hywel, against whom he felt perhaps the greatestand most bitter animosity, and of half a dozen of Owain’scaptains besides, men he did not want to alienate if he could keeptheir sympathy. But he was incapable of damping down hisindignation throughout the lengthy tale, and the very reserve andtolerance with which they listened to him aggravated his burningresentment. By the end of it he was afire with his wrongs, andready to proceed to what had been implied in every word, the threatof open warfare if his lands were not restored to him.

Owain sat for some minutes silent, contemplating his brotherwith a countenance Cadwaladr could not read. At length he stirred,without haste, and said calmly: “You are under somemisapprehension concerning the state of the case, and you haveconveniently forgotten a small matter of a man’s death, forwhich a price was exacted. You have brought here these Danes ofDublin as a means of forcing my hand. Not even by a brother is myhand so easily forced. Now let me show you the reality. The boot ison the other foot now. It is no longer a matter of you saying tome: give me back all my lands, or I will let loose these barbarianson Gwynedd until you do. Now hear me saying to you: You broughtthis host here, now you get rid of them, and then you may—Isay may! —be given back what was formerlyyours.”

It was by no means what Cadwaladr had hoped for, but he was sosure of his fortune with such allies that he could not refrain fromputting the best construction upon it. Owain meant more and betterthan he was yet prepared to say. Often before he had proved plianttowards his younger brother’s offences, so he would again. Inhis own way he was already declaring an alliance to defy and expelthe foreign invaders. It could not be otherwise.

“If you are ready to receive and join withme…” he had begun, for his high temper mildly andcivilly, but Owain cut him off without mercy.

“I have declared no such intent. I tell you again, get ridof them, and only then shall I consider restoring you to your rightin Ceredigion. Have I even said that I promise you anything? Itrests with you, and not solely upon this present ground, whetheryou ever rule in Wales again. I promise you nothing, no help insending these Danes back across the sea, no payment of any kind, notruce unless or until I choose to make truce with them.They are your problem, not mine. I may have, and reserve, my ownquarrel with them for daring to invade my realm. But now any suchconsideration is in abeyance. Your quarrel with them, if youdismiss their help now, is your problem.”

Cadwaladr had flushed into angry crimson, his eyes hot withincredulous rage. “What is this you are demanding of me? Howdo you expect me to deal with such a force? Unaided? What do youwant me to do?”

“There is nothing simpler,” said Owainimperturbably. “Keep the bargain you made with them. Pay themthe fee you promised, or take the consequences.”

“And that is all you have to say to me?”

“That is all I have to say. But you may have time to thinkwhat further may be said between us if you show sense. Stay hereovernight by all means,” said Owain, “or return whenyou will. But you will get no more from me while there’s aDane uninvited on Welsh ground.”

It was so plainly a dismissal, and Owain so unremittingly theprince rather than the brother, that Cadwaladr rose tamely and wentout from the presence shocked and silent. But it was not in hisnature to accept the possibility that his endeavors had all come tonothing. Within his brother’s compact and well-planned camphe was received and acknowledged as both guest and kin, sacred andentitled to the ultimate in courtesy on the one ground, treatedwith easy familiarity on the other. Such usage only confirmed hisnative optimism and reassured his arrogant self-confidence. What hehad heard was the surface that covered a very different reality.There were many among Owain’s chiefs who kept a certainaffection for this troublesome prince, however sorely thataffection had been tried in the past, and however forthrightly theycondemned the excesses to which his lofty temper drove him. Howmuch greater, he reflected, at Owain’s campaign table and inOwain’s tent overnight, was the love his brother bore him.Time and again he had flouted it, and been chastened, even cast outof all grace, but only for a while. Time and again Owain hadsoftened towards him, and taken him back brotherly into the formerinescapable affection. So he would again. Why should this time bedifferent?

He rose in the morning certain that he could manipulate hisbrother as surely as he had always done before. The blood that heldthem together could not be washed away by however monstrous amisdeed. For the sake of that blood, once the die was cast, Owainwould do better than he had said, and stand by his brother to thehilt, against whatever odds.

All Cadwaladr had to do was cast the die that would forceOwain’s hand. The result was never in doubt. Once deeplyembroiled, his brother would not desert him. A less sanguine manmight have seen these calculations as providing only a somewhatsuspect wager. Cadwaladr saw the end result as certainty.

There were some in the camp who had been his men before Hyweldrove him out of Ceredigion. He reckoned their numbers, and felt aphalanx at his back. He would not be without advocates. But he usednone of them at this juncture. In the middle of the morning he hadhis horse saddled, and rode out of Owain’s encampment withouttaking any formal leave, as though to return to the Danes, and takeup his bargaining with them with as little loss of cattle or goldor face as possible. Many saw him go with some half-reluctantsympathy. So, probably, did Owain himself, watching the solitaryhorseman withdraw across open country, until he vanished into oneof the rolling hollows, to reappear on the further slope alreadyshrunken to a tiny, anonymous figure alone in the encroaching wasteof blown sand. It was something new in Cadwaladr to accept reproof,shoulder the burden laid on him, and go back without complaint todo the best he could with it. If he maintained this unexpectedgrace, it would be well worth a brother’s while to salvagehim, even now.

The reappearance of Cadwaladr, sighted before noonfrom the guard-lines covering Otir’s landward approach,excited no surprise. He had been promised freedom to go and toreturn. The watch, captained by the man Torsten, he who was reputedto be able to split a sapling at fifty paces, sent word inward toOtir that his ally was returning, alone and unmolested, as he hadbeen promised. No one had expected any other development; theywaited only to hear what reception he had had, and what terms hewas bringing back from the prince of Gwynedd.

Cadfael had been keeping a watchful eye on the approaches sincemorning, from a higher spot well within the lines, and at the newsthat Cadwaladr had been sighted across the dunes Heledd camecuriously to see for herself, and Brother Mark with her.

“If his crest is high,” Cadfael said judicially,“when he gets near enough for us to take note, then Owain hasin some degree given way to him. Or else he believes he can prevailon him to give way with a little more persuasion. If there is onedeadly sin this Cadwaladr will never fall by, it is surelydespair.”

The lone horseman came on without haste into the sparse veil oftrees on a ridge at some distance from the rim of the camp.Cadwaladr was as good a judge of the range of arrow or lance asmost other men, for there he halted, and sat his horse in silencefor some minutes. The first ripple of mild surprise passed throughthe ranks of Otir’s warriors at this delay.

“What ails him?” wondered Mark at Cadfael’sshoulder. “He has his freedom to come and go. Owain has madeno move to hold him, his Danes want him back. Whatever he bringswith him. But it seems to me his crest is high enough. He may aswell come in and deliver his news, if he has no cause to be ashamedof it.”

Instead, the distant rider sent a loud hail echoing over thefolds of the dunes to those listening at the stockade. “Sendfor Otir! I have a message to him from Gwynedd.”

“What can this be?” asked Heledd, puzzled. “Sohe might well have, why else did he go to parley? Why deliver it ina bull’s bellow from a hundred paces distance?”

Otir came surging over the ridge of the camp with a dozen of hischiefs at his heels, Turcaill among them. From the mouth of thestockade he sent back an answering shout: “Here am I, Otir.Bring your message in with you, and welcome.” But if he wasnot by this time mulling over many misgivings and doubts in his ownmind, Cadfael thought, he must be the only man present still sureof his grip on the expedition. And if he was, he chose for themoment to dissemble them, and wait for enlightenment.

“This is the message I bring you from Gwynedd,”Cadwaladr called, his voice deliberate, high and clear, to be heardby every man within the Danish lines. “Be off back to Dublin,with all your host and all your ships! For Owain and Cadwaladr havemade their peace, Cadwaladr will have his lands back, and has nomore need of you. Take your dismissal, and go!”

And on the instant he wheeled his horse, and spurred back intothe hollows of the dunes at a gallop, back towards the Welsh camp.A great howl of rage pursued him, and two or three opportunistarrows, fitted on uneasy suspicion, fell harmlessly into the sandbehind him. Further pursuit was impossible, he had the wings of anyhorse the Danes could provide, and he was off back to his brotherin all haste, to make good what he had dared to cry aloud. Theywatched him vanish and reappear twice in his flight, dipping andrising with the waves of the dunes, until he was a mere speck inthe far distance.

“Is this possible?” marvelled Brother Mark, shockedand incredulous. “Can he have turned the trick so lightly andeasily? Would Owain countenance it?”

The clamour of anger and disbelief that had convulsed the Danishfreebooters sank with ominous suddenness into the contained and farmore formidable murmur of understanding and acceptance. Otirgathered his chiefs about him, turned his back on the act oftreachery, and went striding solidly up the dunes to his tent, totake counsel what should follow. There was no wasting time ondenunciation or threat, and there was nothing in his broad browncountenance to give away what was going on behind the copperforehead. Otir beheld things as they were, not as he would havewished them. He would never be hesitant in confrontingrealities.

“If there’s one thing certain,” said Cadfael,watching him pass by, massive, self-contained and perilous,“it is that there goes one who keeps his own bargains, bad orgood, and will demand as much from those who deal with him. With orwithout Owain, Cadwaladr had better watch his every step, for Otirwill have his price out of him, in goods or in blood.”

No such forebodings troubled Cadwaladr on his rideback to his brother’s camp. When he was challenged at theouter guard he drew rein long enough to reassure the watchblithely: “Let me by, for I am as Welsh as you, and this iswhere I belong. We have common cause now. I will be answerable tothe prince for what I have done.”

To the prince they admitted, and indeed escorted him, unsure ofwhat lay behind this return, and resolute that he should indeedmake good his purpose to Owain before he spoke with any other.There were enough of his old associates among the muster, and hehad a way of retaining devotion long after it was proven hedeserved none. If he had brought the Danes here to threatenGwynedd, he might now have conspired with them in some new andsubtle measure to get his way. And Cadwaladr stalked into thepresence in their midst with a slight, disdainful smile for theirimplied distrust, as always convinced by the arguments of his ownsanguine mind, and sure of his dominance.

Owain swung about from the section of the stockade that hisengineers were reinforcing, to stare and frown at sight of hisbrother, so unexpectedly returned. A frown as yet only of surpriseand wonder, even concern that something unforeseen might haveprevented Cadwaladr’s freedom of movement.

“You back again? What new thing is this?”

“I am come to myself,” said Cadwaladr withassurance, “and have returned where I belong. I am as Welshas you, and as royal.”

“It is high time you remembered it,” said Owainshortly. “And now you are here, what is it youintend?”

“I intend to see this land freed of Irishman and Dane, asI am instructed is your wish also. I am your brother. Your forcesand mine are one force, must be one force. We have the sameinterests, the same needs, the same aims…”

Owain’s frown had gathered and darkened on his brow into athundercloud, as yet mute, but threatening. “Speakplainly,” he said, “I am in no mood to go roundabout.What have you done?”

“I have flung defiance at Otir and all his Danes!”Cadwaladr was proud of his act, and assured he could make itacceptable, and fuse into one the powers that would enforce it.“I have bidden them board and up sail and be off home toDublin, for you and I together are resolute to drive them from oursoil, and they had best accept their dismissal and spare themselvesa bloody encounter. I was at fault ever to bring them here. If youwill, yes, I repent of it. Between you and me there is no need ofsuch harsh argument. Now I have dismissed and spurned their boughtservices. We will rid ourselves of every last man of them. If weare at one, they will not dare stand against us…”

He had progressed thus far in an ever-hastening torrent ofwords, as if desperate to convince rather himself than Owain.Misgivings had made their stealthy way into his mind almost withouthis knowledge, by reason of the chill stillness of hisbrother’s face, and the grimly silent set of his mouth belowthe unrelenting frown. Now the flow of eloquence flagged andfaltered, and though Cadwaladr drew deep breath and took up thethread again, he could no longer recover the former conviction.“I have still a following, I will do my part. We cannot fail,they have no firm foothold, they will be caged in their owndefenses, and swept into the sea that brought them here.”

This time he let fall the very effort of speech. There was evena silence, very eloquent to the several of Owain’s men whohad ceased their work on the defenses to listen with a freetribesman’s interest, and without any dissembling. There wasnever born a Welshman who would not speak his mind bluntly even tohis prince.

“What is there,” Owain wondered aloud, to the skyabove him and the soil below, “persuades this man still thatmy words do not mean what they seem to mean in sane men’sears? Did I not say you get no more from me? Not a coin spent, nota man put at risk! This devilment of your own making, my brother,it was for you to unmake. So I said, so I meant andmean.”

“And I have gone far to do it!” Cadwaladr flared,flushing red to the brows. “If you will do your part asheartily we are done with them. And who is put at risk? They darenot put it to the test of battle. They will withdraw whilethere’s time.”

“And you believe I would have any part in such a betrayal?You made an agreement with these freebooters, now you break it aslightly as blown thistledown, and look to me to praise you for it?If your word and troth is so light, at least let me weight it withmy black displeasure. If it were for that alone,” said Owain,abruptly blazing, “I would not lift a finger to save you fromyour folly. But there is worse. Who is put at risk, indeed! Haveyou forgotten, or did you never condescend to understand, that yourDanes hold two men of the Benedictine habit, one of them willinghostage for your good faith, which now all men see was not worth abean, let alone a good man’s liberty and life. Yet more, theyalso hold a girl, one who was in my retinue and in my care, even ifshe chose to venture to leave it and make shift alone. For allthese three I stand responsible. And all these three you haveabandoned to whatever fate your Otir may determine for hishostages, now that you have spited, cheated and imperiled him atthe cost of your own honor. This is what you have done! Now I willundo such part of it as I can, and you may make such terms as youcan with the allies you have cheated and discarded.”

And without pause for any rejoinder, even had his brotherretained breath enough to speak, Owain flung away from him to callto the nearest of his men: “Send and saddle me my horse! Now,and hasten!”

Cadwaladr came to his senses with a violent convulsion, andsprang after him to catch him by the arm. “What will you do?Are you mad? There’s no choice now, you are committed as deepas I. You cannot let me fall!”

Owain plucked himself away from the unwelcome hold, thrustinghis brother to arm’s length in brief and bitter detestation.“Leave me! Go or stay, do as you please, but keep out of mysight until I can bear the very look and touch of you. You have notspoken for me. If you have so represented the matter, you lied. Ifa hair of the young deacon’s head has been harmed, you shallanswer for it. If the girl has suffered any insult or hurt, youshall pay the price of it. Go, hide yourself, think on your ownhard case, for you are no brother nor ally of mine; you must carryyour own follies to their deserved ending.”

It was not more than two hours past noon whenanother solitary horseman was sighted from the camp on the dunes,riding fast and heading directly for the Danish perimeter. One manalone, coming with manifest purpose, and making no cautious haltout of range of weapons, but posting vehemently towards the guards,who stood watching his approach with eyes narrowed to weigh up hisbearing and accoutrements, and guess at his intent. He wore nomail, and bore no visible arms.

“No harm in him,” said Torsten. “What he wantshe’ll tell us, by the cut of him. Go tell Otir we have yetanother visitor coming.”

It was Turcaill who carried the message, and delivered it as heinterpreted it. “A man of note by his beast and his harness.Fairer-headed then I am, he could be a man of our own, and bigenough. My match, if I’m a judge. He might even top me. Bythis he’s close. Shall we bring him in?”

Otir gave no more than a moment to considering it. “Yes,let him come. A man who spurs straight in to me man to man is worthhearing.”

Turcaill went back jauntily to the guardpost, in time to see thehorseman rein in at the gate, and light down empty-handed to speakfor himself. “Go tell Otir and his peers that Owain apGriffith ap Cynan, prince of Gwynedd, asks admittance to speechwith them.”

There had been very serious and very composed and deliberateconsultation in Otir’s inner circle of chieftains sinceCadwaladr’s defiance. They were not men of a temper to acceptsuch treachery, and make the best of their way tamely out of thetrap in which it had left them. But whatever they had discussed andcontemplated in retaliation suddenly hung in abeyance whenTurcaill, grinning and glowing with his astonishing embassage,walked in upon their counsels to announce:

“My lords, here on the threshold is Owain Gwynedd in hisown royal person, asking speech with you.”

Otir had a sense of occasion that needed no prompting. Theastonishment of this arrival he put by in an instant, and rose tostride to the open flap of his tent and bring in the guest with hisown hand to the trestle table round which his captains weregathered.

“My lord prince, whatever your word, your self is welcome.Your line and your reputation are known to us, your forebears onyour grandmother’s side are close kin to kin of ours. If wehave our dissensions, and have fought on opposing sides before now,and may again, that is no bar but we may meet in fair and openparley.”

“I expect no less,” said Owain. “You I have nocause otherwise to love, since you are here upon my grounduninvited, and for no good purpose towards me. I am not come toexchange compliments with you, nor to complain of you, but to setright what may be misunderstood between us.”

“Is there such misunderstanding?” asked Otir withdry good humor. “I had thought our situation must be clearenough, for here I am, and here are you acknowledging freely thathere I have no right to be.”

“That, as at this moment,” said Owain, “we mayleave to be resolved at another time. What may have misled you isthe visit my brother Cadwaladr paid you this morning.”

“Ah, that!” said Otir, and smiled. “He is backin your encampment, then?”

“He is back. He is back, and I am here, to tellyou—I could even say, to warn you—that he did not speakfor me. I knew nothing of his intent. I thought he had come back toyou just as he left you, still your ally, still hostile to me,still a man of his word and bound to you. It was not with my willor leave that he discarded you, and with you the sacred worth ofhis word. I have not made peace with him, nor will I make war withhim against you. He has not won back the lands I took from him, forgood reason. The bargain he made with you he must abide as best hemay.”

They were steadily gazing at him, and from him to one another,about the table, waiting to be enlightened, and withholdingjudgment until the mists cleared.

“I am slow to see, then, the purpose of this visit,”said Otir civilly, “however much pleasure the company ofOwain Gwynedd gives me.”

“It is very simple,” said Owain. “I am here tolay claim to three hostages you hold in your camp. One of them, theyoung deacon Mark, willingly remained to ensure the safe return ofmy brother, who has now made that return impossible, and left theboy to answer for it. The other two, the girl Heledd, a daughter ofa canon of Saint Asaph, and the Benedictine Brother Cadfael of theabbey of Shrewsbury, were captured by this young warrior whoconducted me in to you, when he raided for provisions far up theMenai. I came to ensure that no harm should come to any of these,by reason of Cadwaladr’s abandonment of his agreement. Theyare no concern of his. They are all three under my protection. I amhere to offer a fair ransom for them, no matter what may followbetween your people and mine. My own responsibilities I willdischarge honorably. Cadwaladr’s are nothing to do with me.Exact from him what he owes you, not from any of these threeinnocent people.”

Otir did not openly say: “So I intend!” but hesmiled a tight and relishing smile that spoke just as clearly forhim. “You may well interest me,” he said, “and Imake no doubt we could agree upon a fair ransom, between us. Butfor this while you must hold me excused if I reserve all my assets.When I have given consideration to all things, then you shall knowwhether, and at what price, I am willing to sell your guests backto you.”

“At least, then,” said Owain, “give me yourpledge that they shall come back to me unharmed when I do recoverthem—whether by purchase or by capture.”

“I do not spoil what I may wish to sell,” agreedOtir. “And when I collect what is due to me, it will be fromthe debtor. That I promise you.”

“And I take your word,” said Owain. “Send tome when you will.”

“And there is no more to be said between ustwo?”

“As yet,” said Owain, “there is nothing more.All your choices you have reserved. So do I reservemine.”

Cadfael left the place where he had stood motionless and quiet,in the lee of the tent, and followed down through the mute ranks ofthe Danes as they drew aside to give the prince of Gwynedd clearpassage back to his waiting horse. Owain mounted and rode, withouthaste now, more certain of his enemy than ever he had been sinceboyhood of his brother. When the fair head, uncovered to the sun,had twice dipped from sight and reappeared again, and was dwindlinginto a distant speck of pale gold in the distance, Cadfael turnedback along the fold of the dunes, and went to look for Heledd andMark. They would be together. Mark had taken upon himself, somewhatdiffidently, the duty of keeping a guardian eye upon thegirl’s privacy. She might shake him off at will when she didnot want him; when if ever she did want him, he would be withincall. Cadfael had found it oddly touching how Heledd bore with thisshy but resolute attendance, for she used Mark as an elder sistermight, considerate of his dignity and careful never to open uponhim the perilous weaponry she had at her disposal in dealing withother men, and sometimes had been known to indulge for her ownpleasure no less than in hurt retaliation against her father. Forthere was no question but this Heledd, with her gown frayed at thesleeve and crumpled by sleeping in a scooped hollow of sand linedwith grass, and her hair unbraided and loose about her shoulders ina mane of darkness burnished into blue highlights by the sun, andher feet as often as not bare in the warm sand and the coolshallows along the seaward shore, was perceptibly closer to purebeauty than she had ever been before, and could have wreaked havocin most young men’s lives here had she been so minded. Norwas it wholly in her own defense that she went about the camp sodiscreetly, suppressing her radiance, and avoided contact with hercaptors but for the young boy who waited on her needs and Turcaill,to whose teasing company she had become accustomed, and whoseshafts she took passing pleasure in returning.

There was a bloom upon Heledd in these days of captivity, asummer gloss that was more than the sheen of the sun on her face.It seemed that now that she was a prisoner, however easy was hercaptivity within its strict limits, and had accepted her ownhelplessness, now that all action and all decisions were denied hershe had abandoned all anxiety with them, and was content to live inthe passing day and look no further. More content than she hadbeen, Cadfael thought, since Bishop Gilbert came to Llanelwy, andset about reforming his clergy while her mother was on herdeathbed. She might even have suffered the extreme bitterness ofwondering whether her father was not looking forward to the deaththat would secure him his tenure. There was no such cloud upon hernow, she radiated a warmth that seemed to have no cares left in theworld. What she could not influence she had settled down toexperience and survive, even to enjoy.

They were standing among the thin screen of trees on the ridgewhen Cadfael found them. They had seen Owain arrive, and they hadclimbed up here to watch him depart. Heledd was still staringwide-eyed and silent after the last glimpse of the prince’sbright head, lost now in distance. Mark stood always a little apartfrom her, avoiding touch. She might treat him sisterly, but Cadfaelwondered at times whether Mark felt himself in danger, and keptalways a space between them. Who could ensure that his own feelingsshould always remain brotherly? The very concern he felt for her,thus suspended between an uncertain past and a still morequestionable future, was a perilous pitfall.

“Owain will have none of it,” Cadfael announcedpractically. “Cadwaladr lied, Owain has set the matterstraight. His brother must work out his own salvation or damnationunaided.”

“How do you know so much?” asked Mark mildly.

“I took care to be close. Do you think a good Welshmanwould neglect his interests where the contrivances of his bettersare concerned?”

“I had thought a good Welshman never acknowledged anybetters,” said Mark, and smiled. “You had your ear tothe leather of the tent?”

“For your benefit no less. Owain has offered to buy us allthree out of Otir’s hold. And Otir, if he has held back fromcoming to terms at once, has promised us life and limb and thisdegree of freedom until he comes to a decision. We have nothingworse to fear.”

“I was not in any fear,” said Heledd, still gazingthoughtfully southward. “Then what comes next, if Owain hasleft his brother to his fate?”

“Why, we sit back and wait, here where we are, untileither Otir decides to accept his price for us, or Cadwaladrsomehow scrapes together whatever fool sum in money and stock hepromised his Danes.”

“And if Otir cannot wait, and decides to cut his fee byforce out of Gwynedd?” Mark wondered.

“That he will not do, unless some fool starts the killingand forces his hand. I exact my dues, he said, from the debtor whoowes them. And he means it, not now simply out of self-interest,but out of a very deep grudge against Cadwaladr, who has cheatedhim. He will not bring Owain and all his power into combat if byany means he can avoid it and still get his profit. And he is asable to make his own dispositions,” said Cadfael shrewdly,“as any other man, and for all I can see, better than most.Not only Owain and his brother are calling the shots here, Otir maywell have a trick or two of his own up his sleeve.”

“I want no killing,” said Heledd peremptorily, asthough she gave orders by right to all men presently in arms.“Not for us, not for them. I would rather continue hereprisoner than have any man brought to his death. And yet,”she said grieving, “I know it cannot go on thus deadlocked,it must end somehow.”

It would end, Cadfael reflected, unless some unforeseen disasterintervened, in Otir’s acceptance of Owain’s ransom forhis captives, most probably after Otir had dealt, in whateverfashion he saw fit, with Cadwaladr. That score would rank first inhis mind, and be tackled first. He had no obligation now to hissometime ally, that compact had been broken once for all. Cadwaladrmight go into exile, once he had paid his dues, or go on his kneesto his brother and beg back his lands. Otir owed him nothing. Andsince he had all his following to pay, he would not refuse theadditional profit of Owain’s ransom. Heledd would go free,back to Owain’s charge. And there was a man now inOwain’s muster who was waiting to claim her on her return. Agood man, so Mark said, presentable to the eye, well-thought of, aman of respectable lands, in good odor with the prince. She mightdo very much worse.

“There is no cause in the world,” said Mark,“why it should not end for you in a life well worth thecherishing. This Ieuan whom you have never seen is wholly disposedto receive and love you, and he is worth youracceptance.”

“I do believe you,” she said, for her almostsubmissively. But her eyes were steady upon a far distance over thesea, where the light of air and the light of water melted into ashimmering mist, indissoluble and mysterious, everything beyondhidden in radiance. And Cadfael wondered suddenly if he was not,after all, imagining the conviction in Brother Mark’s voice,and the womanly grace of resignation in Heledd’s.

 


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Ïîèñê ïî ñàéòó:



Âñå ìàòåðèàëû ïðåäñòàâëåííûå íà ñàéòå èñêëþ÷èòåëüíî ñ öåëüþ îçíàêîìëåíèÿ ÷èòàòåëÿìè è íå ïðåñëåäóþò êîììåð÷åñêèõ öåëåé èëè íàðóøåíèå àâòîðñêèõ ïðàâ. Ñòóäàëë.Îðã (0.018 ñåê.)