Chapter Three. “H ow many,” asked Cadfael carefully, aftera moment of silence, “were with him then?”

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“H ow many,” asked Cadfael carefully, aftera moment of silence, “were with him then?”

“Three of us. On a simple journey and a short, thinking noevil. There were eight of them. I am the only one left who rodewith Anarawd that day.” His voice was low and even. He hadforgotten nothing and forgiven nothing, but he was in completecommand of voice and face.

“I marvel,” said Cadfael, “that you lived totell the story. It would not take long to bleed to death from sucha wound.”

“And even less time to strike again and finish thework,” the young man agreed with a twisted smile. “Andso they would have done if some others of our people had not heardthe affray and come in haste. Me they left lying when they rodeaway. I was taken up and tended after his murderers had run. Andwhen Hywel came with his army to avenge the slaying, he brought meback here with him, and Owain has taken me into his own service. Aone-armed man is still good for something. And he can stillhate.”

“You were close to your prince?”

“I grew up with him. I loved him.” His black eyesrested steadily upon the lively profile of Hywel ab Owain, whosurely had taken Anarawd’s place in his loyalty, in so far asone man can ever replace another.

“May I know your name?” asked Cadfael. “Andmine is, or in the world it was, Cadfael ap Meilyr ap Dafydd, a manof Gwynedd myself, born at Trefriw. And Benedictine though I maybe, I have not forgotten my ancestry.”

“Nor should you, in the world or out of it. And my name isCuhelyn ab Einion, a younger son of my father, and a man of myprince’s guard. In the old days,” he said, darkling,“it was disgrace for a man of the guard to return alive fromthe field on which his lord was slain. But I had and have goodreason for living. Those of the murderers whom I knew I have namedto Hywel, and they have paid. But some I did not know. I keep thefaces in mind, for the day when I see them again and hear the namesthat go with the faces.”

“There is also one other, the chief, who has paid only ablood-price in lands,” said Cadfael. “What of him? Isit certain he gave the orders for this ambush?”

“Certain! They would never have dared, otherwise. AndOwain Gwynedd has no doubts.”

“And where, do you suppose, is this Cadwaladr now? And hashe resigned himself to the loss of everything hepossessed?”

The young man shook his head. “Where he is no one seems toknow. Nor what mischief he has next in mind. But resigned to hisloss? That I doubt! Hywel took hostages from among the lesserchiefs who served under Cadwaladr, and brought them north to ensurethere should be no further resistance in Ceredigion. Most of themhave been released now, having sworn not to bear arms againstHywel’s rule or offer service again to Cadwaladr, unless atsome time to come he should pledge reparation and be restored.There’s one still left captive in Aber, Gwion. He’sgiven his parole not to attempt escape, but he refuses to forswearhis allegiance to Cadwaladr or promise peace to Hywel. A decentenough fellow,” said Cuhelyn tolerantly, “but stilldevoted to his lord. Can I hold that against a man? But such alord! He deserves better for his worship.”

“You bear no hatred against him?”

“None, there is no reason. He had no part in the ambush,he is too young and too clean to be taken into such a villainy.After a fashion, I like him as he likes me. We are two of a kind.Could I blame him for holding fast to his allegiance as I hold fastto mine? If he would kill for Cadwaladr’s sake, so would Ihave done, so I did, for Anarawd. But not by stealth, in doubleforce against light-armed men expecting no danger. Honestly, inopen field, that’s another matter.”

The long meal was almost at its end, only the wine and meadstill circling, and the hum of voices had mellowed into a low,contented buzzing like a hive of bees drunken and happy amongsummer meadows. In the centre of the high table Bishop Gilbert hadtaken up the fine scroll of his letter and broken the seal, and wason his feet with the vellum leaf unrolled in his hands. Roger deClinton’s salutation was meant to be declaimed in public forits full effect, and had been carefully worded to impress the laityno less than the Celtic clergy, who might be most in need of acautionary word. Gilbert’s sonorous voice made the most ofit. Cadfael, listening, thought that Archbishop Theobald would behighly content with the result of his embassage.

“And now, my lord Owain,” Gilbert pursued, seizingthe mellowed moment for which he must have been waiting throughoutthe feast, “I ask your leave to introduce a petitioner, whocomes asking your indulgence for a plea on behalf of another. Myappointment here gives me some right, by virtue of my office, tospeak for peace, between individual men as between peoples. It isnot good that there should be anger between brothers. Just causethere may have been at the outset, but there should be a term toevery outlawry, every quarrel. I ask an audience for an ambassadorwho speaks on behalf of your brother Cadwaladr, that you may bereconciled with him as is fitting, and restore him to his lostplace in your favour. May I admit Bledri ap Rhys?”

There was a brief, sharp silence, in which every eye turned uponthe prince’s face. Cadfael felt the young man beside himstiffen and quiver in bitter resentment of such a breach ofhospitality, for clearly this had been planned deliberately withouta word of warning to the prince, without any prior consultation,taking an unfair advantage of the courtesy such a man wouldundoubtedly show towards the host at whose table he was seated.Even had this audience been sought in private, Cuhelyn would havefound it deeply offensive. To precipitate it thus publicly, in hallbefore the entire household, was a breach of courtesy only possibleto an insensitive Norman set up in authority among a people of whomhe had no understanding. But if the liberty was as displeasing toOwain as it was to Cuhelyn, he did not allow it to appear. He letthe silence lie just long enough to leave the issue in doubt, andperhaps shake Gilbert’s valiant self-assurance, and then hesaid clearly:

“At your wish, my lord bishop, I will certainly hearBledri ap Rhys. Every man has the right to ask and to be heard.Without prejudice to the outcome!”

It was plain, as soon as the bishop’s steward brought thepetitioner into the hall, that he had not come straight from travelto ask for this audience. Somewhere about the bishop’senclave he had been waiting at ease for his entry here, and hadprepared himself carefully, very fine and impressive in his dressand in his person, every grain of dust from the roads polishedaway. A tall, broad-shouldered, powerful man, black-haired andblack-moustached, with an arrogant beak of a nose, and a bearingtruculent rather than conciliatory. He swept with long strides intothe centre of the open space fronting the dais, and made anelaborate obeisance in the general direction of prince and bishop.The gesture seemed to Cadfael to tend rather to theperformer’s own aggrandizement than to any particularreverence for those saluted. He had everyone’s attention, andmeant to retain it.

“My lord prince—my lord bishop, your devout servant!I come as a petitioner here before you.” He did not look thepart, nor was his full, confident voice expressive of any suchrole.

“So I have heard,” said Owain. “You havesomething to ask of us. Ask it freely.”

“My lord, I was and am in fealty to your brotherCadwaladr, and I dare venture to speak for his right, in that hegoes deprived of his lands, and made a stranger and disinherited inhis own country. Whatever you may hold him guilty of, I dare toplead that such a penalty is more than he has deserved, and such asbrother should not visit upon brother. And I ask of you thatmeasure of generosity and forgiveness that should restore him hisown again. He has endured this despoiling a year already, let thatbe enough, and set him up again in his lands of Ceredigion. Thelord bishop will add his voice to mine forreconciliation.”

“The lord bishop has been before you,” said Owaindrily, “and equally eloquent. I am not, and never have been,adamant against my brother, whatever follies he has committed, butmurder is worse than folly, and requires a measure of penitencebefore forgiveness is due. The two, separated, are of no value, andwhere the one is not, I will not waste the other. Did Cadwaladrsend you on this errand?”

“No, my lord, and knows nothing of my coming. It is he whosuffers deprivation, and I who appeal for his right to be restored.If he has done ill in the past, is that good reason for shuttinghim out from the possibility of doing well in the future? And whathas been done to him is extreme, for he has been made an exile inhis own country, without a toehold on his own soil. Is that fairdealing?”

“It is less extreme,” said Owain coldly, “thanwhat was done to Anarawd. Lands can be restored, if restoration isdeserved. Life once lost is past restoration.”

“True, my lord, but even homicide may be compounded for ablood-price. To be stripped of all, and for life, is another kindof death.”

“We are not concerned with mere homicide, but withmurder,” said Owain, “as well you know.”

At Cadfael’s left hand Cuhelyn sat stiff and motionless inhis place, his eyes fixed upon Bledri, their glance lengthened topierce through him and beyond. His face was white, and his singlehand clenched tightly upon the edge of the board, the knucklessharp and pale as ice. He said no word and made no sound, but hisbleak stare never wavered.

“Too harsh a name,” said Bledri fiercely, “fora deed done in heat. Nor did your lordship wait to hear myprince’s side of the quarrel.”

“For a deed done in heat,” said Owain with immovablecomposure, “this was well planned. Eight men do not lie inwait in cover for four travellers unsuspecting and unarmed, in hotblood. You do your lord’s cause no favor by defending hiscrime. You said you came to plead. My mind is not closed againstreconciliation, civilly sought. It is proof againstthreats.”

“Yet, Owain,” cried Bledri, flaring like a resinoustorch, “it behoves even you to weigh what consequences mayfollow if you are obdurate. A wise man would know when to unbend,before his own brand burns back into his face.”

Cuhelyn started out of his stillness, quivering, and was halfrising to his feet when he regained control, and sank back in hisplace, again mute and motionless. Hywel had not moved, nor had hisface changed. He had his father’s formidable composure. AndOwain’s unshaken and unshakable calm subdued in a moment theuneasy stir and murmur that had passed round the high table andstarted louder echoes down in the floor of the hall.

“Am I to take that as threat, or promise, or a forecast ofa doom from heaven?” asked Owain, in the most amiable ofvoices, but none the less with a razor edge to the tone that gaveit piercing sweetness, and caused Bledri to draw back his head alittle as if from a possible blow, and for a moment veil thesmouldering fire of his black eyes, and abate the savage tightnessof his lips. Somewhat more cautiously he responded at last:

“I meant only that enmity and hatred between brothers isunseemly among men, and cannot but be displeasing to God. It cannotbear any but disastrous fruit. I beg you, restore your brother hisrights.”

“That,” said Owain thoughtfully, and eyeing thepetitioner with a stare that measured and probed beyond the wordsoffered, “I am not yet ready to concede. But perhaps weshould consider of this matter at more leisure. Tomorrow morning Iand my people set out for Aber and Bangor, together with some ofthe lord bishop’s household and these visitors fromLichfield. It is in my mind, Bledri ap Rhys, that you should ridewith us and be our guest at Aber, and on the way, and there at homein my llys, you may better develop your argument, and I betterconsider on those consequences of which you make mention. I shouldnot like,” said Owain in tones of honey, “to invitedisaster for want of forethought. Say yes to my hospitality, andsit down with us at our host’s table.”

It was entirely plain to Cadfael, as to many another within thehall, that by this time Bledri had small choice in the matter.Owain’s men of the guard had fully understood the nature ofthe invitation. By his tight smile, so had Bledri, though heaccepted it with every evidence of pleasure and satisfaction. Nodoubt it suited him to continue in the prince’s company,whether as guest or prisoner, and to keep his eyes and ears open onthe ride to Aber. All the more if his hint of dire consequencesmeant more than the foreshadowing of divine disapproval of enmitybetween brothers. He had said a little too much to be taken at hisface value. And as a guest, free or under guard, his own safety wasassured. He took the place that was cleared for him at thebishop’s table, and drank to the prince with a discreetcountenance and easy smile.

The bishop visibly drew deep breath, relieved that hiswell-meaning effort at peace-making had at least survived the firstskirmish. Whether he had understood the vibrating undertones ofwhat had passed was doubtful. The subtleties of the Welsh wereprobably wasted on a forthright and devout Norman, Cadfaelreflected. The better for him, he could speed his departing guests,thus augmented by one, and console himself that he had done all aman could do to bring about reconciliation. What followed, whateverit might be, was no responsibility of his.

The mead went round amicably, and the prince’s harper sangthe greatness and virtues of Owain’s line and the beauty ofGwynedd. And after him, to Cadfael’s respectful surprise,Hywel ab Owain rose and took the harp, and improvised mellifluouslyon the women of the north. Poet and bard as well as warrior, thiswas undoubtedly an admirable shoot from that admirable stem. Heknew what he was doing with his music. All the tensions of theevening dissolved into amity and song. Or if they survived, atleast the bishop, comforted and relaxed, lost all awareness ofthem.

In the privacy of their own lodging, with thenight still drowsily astir outside the half-open door, Brother Marksat mute and thoughtful on the edge of his bed for some moments,pondering all that had passed, until at last he said, with theconviction of one who has reviewed all circumstances and come to afirm conclusion: “He meant nothing but good. He is a goodman.”

“But not a wise one,” said Cadfael from the doorway.The night without was dark, without a moon, but the stars filled itwith a distant, blue glimmer that showed where occasional shadowscrossed from building to building, making for their rest. The babelof the day was now an almost-silence, now and then quivering to themurmur of low voices tranquilly exchanging goodnights. Rather atremor on the air than an audible sound. There was no wind. Eventhe softest of movements vibrated along the cords of the senses,making silence eloquent.

“He trusts too easily,” Mark agreed with a sigh.“Integrity expects integrity.”

“And you find it missing in Bledri ap Rhys?” Cadfaelasked respectfully. Brother Mark could still surprise him now andthen.

“I doubt him. He comes too brazenly, knowing once receivedhe is safe from any harm or affront. And he feels secure enough inWelsh hospitality to threaten.”

“So he did,” said Cadfael thoughtfully. “Andpassed it off as a reminder of heaven’s displeasure. And whatdid you make of that?”

“He drew in his horns,” said Mark positively,“knowing he had gone a step too far. But there was more inthat than a pastoral warning. And truly I wonder where thisCadwaladr is now, and what he is up to. For I think that was aplain threat of trouble here and now if Owain refused hisbrother’s demands. Something is in the planning, and thisBledri knows of it.”

“I fancy,” said Cadfael placidly, “that theprince is of your opinion also, or at least has the possibilitywell in mind. You heard him. He has given due notice to all his menthat Bledri ap Rhys is to remain in the royal retinue here, inAber, and on the road between. If there’s mischief planned,Bledri, if he can’t be made to betray it, can be preventedfrom playing any part in it, or letting his master know the princehas taken the warning, and is on his guard. Now I wonder did Bledriread as much into it, and whether he’ll go to the trouble toput it to the test?”

“He did not seem to me to be put out of his stride,”said Mark doubtfully. “If he did understand it so, it did notdisquiet him. Can he have provoked it purposely?”

“Who knows? It may suit him to go along with us to Aber,and keep his eyes and ears open along the way and within the llys,if he’s spying out the prince’s dispositions for hismaster. Or for himself!” Cadfael conceded thoughtfully,“Though what’s the advantage to him, unless it’sto put him safely out of the struggle, I confess I don’tsee.” For a prisoner who enjoys officially the status of aguest can come to no harm, whatever the issue. If his own lordwins, he is delivered without reproach, and if his captor is thevictor he is immune just as surely, safe from injury in the battleor reprisals after it. “But he did not strike me as acautious man,” Cadfael owned, rejecting the option, thoughwith some lingering reluctance.

A few threads of shadow still crossed the gathering darkness ofthe precinct, ripples on a nocturnal lake. The open door of thebishop’s great hall made a rectangle of faint light, most ofthe torches within already quenched, the fire turfed down but stillglowing, distant murmurs of movement and voices a slight quiver onthe silence, as the servants cleared away the remnants of the feastand the tables that had borne it.

A tall, dark figure, wide-shouldered and erect against the palelight, appeared in the doorway of the hall, paused for a longmoment as though breathing in the cool of the night, and then movedleisurely down the steps, and began to pace the beaten earth of thecourt, slowly and sinuously, like a man flexing his muscles afterbeing seated a while too long. Cadfael opened the door a littlewider, to have the shadowy movements in view.

“Where are you going?” asked Mark at his back,anticipating with alert intelligence.

“Not far,” said Cadfael. “Just far enough tosee what rises to our friend Bledri’s bait. And how he takesit!”

He stood motionless outside the door for a long moment, drawingthe door to behind him, to accustom his eyes to the night, asdoubtless Bledri ap Rhys was also doing as he trailed his coat toand fro, nearer and nearer to the open gate of the precinct. Theearth was firm enough to make his crisp, deliberate steps audible,as plainly he meant them to be. But nothing stirred and no one tooknote of him, not even the few servants drifting away to their beds,until he turned deliberately and walked straight towards the opengate. Cadfael had advanced at leisure along the line of modestcanonical houses and guest lodgings, to keep the event in view.

With admirable aplomb two brisk figures heaved up into thegateway from the fields without, amiably wreathed together,collided with Bledri in midpassage, and untwined themselves toembrace him between them.

“What, my lord Bledri!” boomed one blithe Welshvoice. “Is it you? Taking a breath of air before sleeping?And a fine night for it!”

“We’ll bear you company, willingly,” thesecond voice offered heartily. “It’s early to go to bedyet. And we’ll see you safe to your own brychan, if you loseyour way in the dark.”

“I’m none so drunk as to go astray,” Bledriacknowledged without surprise or concern. “And for all thegood company there is to be had in Saint Asaph tonight, I thinkI’ll get to my bed. You gentlemen will be needing your sleep,too, if we’re off with the morn tomorrow.” The smile inhis voice was clear to be sensed. He had the answer he had lookedfor, and it caused him no dismay, rather a measure of amusement,perhaps even satisfaction. “Goodnight to you!” he said,and turned to saunter back towards the hall door, still dimlylighted from within.

Silence hung outside the precinct wall, though the nearest tentsof Owain’s camp were not far away. The wall was not so highthat it could not be climbed, though wherever a man mounted, therewould be someone waiting below on the other side. But in any caseBledri ap Rhys had no intention of removing himself, he had merelybeen confirming his expectation that any attempt to do so wouldvery simply and neatly be frustrated. Owain’s orders werereadily understood even when obliquely stated, and would beefficiently carried out. If Bledri had been in any doubt of that,he knew better now. And as for the two convivial guards, theywithdrew again into the night with an absence of pretence which wasalmost insulting.

And that, on the face of it, was the end of the incident. YetCadfael continued immobile and detachedly interested, invisibleagainst the dark bulk of the timber buildings, as if he expectedsome kind of epilogue to round off the night’sentertainment.

Into the oblong of dim light at the head of the steps came thegirl Heledd, unmistakable even in silhouette by the impetuous graceof her carriage and her tall slenderness. Even at the end of anevening of serving the bishop’s guests and the retainers ofhis household she moved like a fawn. And if Cadfael observed herappearance with impersonal pleasure, so did Bledri ap Rhys, fromwhere he stood just aside from the foot of the steps, with astartled appreciation somewhat less impersonal, having no monasticrestraints to hold it in check. He had just confirmed that he wasnow, willing or otherwise, a member of the prince’s retinueat least as far as Aber, and in all probability he already knew,since he was lodged in the bishop’s own house, that thispromising girl was the one who would be riding with the party atdawn. The prospect offered a hope of mild pleasure along the way,to pass the time agreeably. At the very least, here was thismoment, to round off an eventful and enjoyable evening. She wasdescending, with one of the embroidered drapings of the high tablerolled up in her arms, on her way to the canonical dwellings acrossthe precinct. Perhaps wine had been spilled on the cloth, or someof the gilt threads been snagged by a belt buckle or the roughsetting of a dagger hilt or a bracelet, and she was charged withits repair. He had been about to ascend, but waited aside instead,for the pleasure of watching her at ever closer view as she camedown, eyes lowered to be sure of stepping securely. He was so stilland she so preoccupied that she had not observed him. And when shehad reached the third step from the ground he suddenly reached outand took her by the waist between his hands, very neatly, and swungher round in a half-circle, and so held her suspended, face to facewith him and close, for a long moment before he set her quitegently on her feet. He did not, however, relinquish his hold ofher.

It was done quite lightly and playfully, and for all Cadfaelcould see, which was merely a shadow play, Heledd received itwithout much trace of displeasure, and certainly none of alarm,once the surprise was past. She had uttered one small, startledgasp as he plucked her aloft, but that was all, and once set downshe stood looking up at him eye to eye, and made no move to breakaway. It is not unpleasant to any woman to be admired by a handsomeman. She said something to him, the words indistinguishable but thetone light and tolerant to Cadfael’s ear, if not downrightencouraging. And something he said in return to her, at the veryleast with no sign of discouragement. No doubt Bledri ap Rhys had avery good opinion of himself and his attractions, but it was inCadfael’s mind that Heledd, for all she might enjoy hisattentions, was also quite capable of keeping them within decorousbounds. Doubtful if she was considering letting him get very far.But from this pleasurable brush with him she could extricateherself whenever she chose. They were neither of them taking itseriously.

In the event she was not to be given the opportunity to concludeit in her own fashion. For the light from the open doorway abovewas suddenly darkened by the bulk of a big man’s body, andthe abrupt eclipse cast the linked pair below into relativeobscurity. Canon Meirion paused for a moment to adjust his visionto the night, and began to descend the steps with his usualselfconscious dignity. With the dwindling of his massive shadowrenewed light fell upon Heledd’s glossy hair and the paleoval of her face, and the broad shoulders and arrogant head ofBledri ap Rhys, the pair of them closely linked in what fell littleshort of an embrace.

It seemed to Brother Cadfael, watching with unashamed interestfrom his dark corner, that both of them were very well aware of thestormcloud bearing down on them, and neither was disposed to doanything to evade or placate it. Indeed, he perceived that Heleddsoftened by a hair the stiffness of her stance, and allowed herhead to tilt towards the descending light and glitter into a brightand brittle smile, meant rather for her father’s discomfortthan for Bledri’s gratification. Let him sweat for his placeand his desired advancement! She had said that she could destroyhim if she so willed, it was something she would never do, but ifhe was so crass, and knew so little of her, as to believe hercapable of bringing about his ruin, he deserved to pay for hisstupidity.

The instant of intense stillness exploded into a flurry ofmovement, as Canon Meirion recovered his breath and came seethingdown the steps in a turmoil of clerical black, like a suddenthundercloud, took his daughter by the arm, and wrenched her firmlyaway from Bledri’s grasp. As firmly and competently shewithdrew herself from this new compulsion, and brushed the verytouch of his hand from her sleeve. The dagger glances that musthave strained through the dimness between sire and daughter wereblunted by the night. And Bledri suffered his deprivationgracefully, without stirring a step, and very softly laughed.

“Oh, pardon if I have trespassed on your rights ofwarren,” he said, deliberately obtuse. “I had notreckoned with a rival of your cloth. Not here in BishopGilbert’s household. I see I have undervalued his breadth ofmind.”

He was being provocative deliberately, of course. Even if he hadhad no notion that this indignant elder was the girl’sfather, he certainly knew that this intervention could hardly bearthe interpretation he was placing upon it. But had not the impulseof mischief originated rather with Heledd? It did not please herthat the canon should have so little confidence in her judgement asto suppose she would need help in dealing with a passing piece ofimpudence from this questionably welcome visitor. And Bledri wasquite sufficiently accomplished in the study of women to catch thedrift of her mild malice, and play the accomplice, for hergratification as readily as for his own amusement.

“Sir,” said Meirion with weighty and forbiddingdignity, curbing his rage, “my daughter is affianced, andshortly to be married. Here in his lordship’s court you willtreat her and all other women with respect.” And to Heledd hesaid brusquely, and with a sharp gesture of his hand towards theirlodging under the far wall of the enclave: “Go in, girl! Thehour is late already, you should be withindoors.”

Heledd, without haste or discomposure, gave them a slight, curtinclination of her head to share between them, and turned andwalked away. The rear view of her as she went was expressive, anddisdainful of men in general.

“And a very fine girl, too,” said Bledriapprovingly, watching her departure. “You may be proud ofyour getting, Father. I hope you are marrying her to a manwho’ll appreciate beauty. The small courtesy of hefting thelass down the steps to level ground can hardly have blemished hisbargain.” His clear, incisive voice had dwelt fondly on theword ‘Father’, well aware of the dual sting.“Well, what the eye has not seen, the heart need not grieve,and I hear the bridegroom is well away in Anglesey. And no doubtyou can keep a still tongue where this match is concerned.”The plain implication was there, very sweetly insinuated. No, CanonMeirion was exceedingly unlikely to make any move that couldjeopardise his cleansed and celibate and promising future. Bledriap Rhys was very quick on the uptake, and well informed about thebishop’s clerical reforms. He had even sensed Heledd’sresentment at being so ruthlessly disposed of, and her impulse totake her revenge before departing.

“Sir, you are a guest of prince and bishop, and as suchare expected to observe the standards due to theirhospitality.” Meirion was stiff as a lance, and his voicethinned and steely as a sword-blade. Within his well-schooledperson there was a ferocious Welsh temper under arduous control.“If you do not, you will rue it. Whatever my own situation, Iwill see to that. Do not approach my daughter, or attempt to haveany further ado with her. Your courtesies are unwelcome.”

“Not, I think, to the lady,” said Bledri, with themost complacent of smiles implicit in the very tone of his voice.“She has a tongue, and a palm, and I fancy would have beenready enough to use both if I had caused her any displeasure. Ilike a lass of spirit. If she grants me occasion, I shall tell herso. Why should she not enjoy the admiration she is entitled to,these few hours on the road to her marriage?”

The brief silence fell like a stone between them; Cadfael feltthe air quiver with the tension of their stillness. Then CanonMeirion said, through gritted teeth and from a throat constrictedwith the effort to contain his rage: “My lord, do not thinkthis cloth I wear will prove any protection to you if you affrontmy honor, or my daughter’s good name. Be warned, and keepaway from her, or you shall have excellent cause to regret it.Though perhaps,” he ended, even lower and more malevolently,“too brief time!”

“Time enough,” said Bledri, not noticeably disturbedby the palpable threat, “for all the regretting I’mlikely to do. It’s something I’ve had small practicein. Goodnight to your reverence!” And he passed by Meirion soclose their sleeves brushed, perhaps intentionally, and began toclimb the steps to the hall door. And the canon, wrenching himselfout of his paralysis of rage with an effort, composed his dignityabout him as best he could, and stalked away towards his owndoor.

Cadfael returned to his own quarters verythoughtfully, and recounted the whole of this small incident toBrother Mark, who was lying wakeful and wide-eyed after hisprayers, by some private and peculiar sensitivity of his ownalready aware of turbulent cross-currents trembling on the nightair. He listened, unsurprised.

“How much, would you say, Cadfael, is his concern only forhis own advancement, how much truly for his daughter? For he doesfeel guilt towards her. Guilt that he resents her as a burden tohis prospects, guilt at loving her less than she loves him. A guiltthat makes him all the more anxious to put her out of sight, faraway, another man’s charge.”

“Who can decypher any man’s motives?” saidCadfael resignedly. “Much less a woman’s. But I tellyou this, she would do well not to drive him too far. The man has acore of violence in him. I would not like to see it let loose. Itcould be a killing force.”

“And against which of them,” wondered Mark, staringinto the dark of the roof above him, “would the lightning belaunched, if ever the storm broke?”

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