Chapter Ten. T urcaill came down from conference inOtir’s tent towards the shore of the sheltered bay, where hislithe little dragon-ship lay close inshore

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T urcaill came down from conference inOtir’s tent towards the shore of the sheltered bay, where hislithe little dragon-ship lay close inshore, its low sides mirroredin the still water of the shallows. The anchorage at the mouth ofthe Menai was separated from the broad sandy reaches of the bay tosouthward by a long spit of shingle, beyond which the water of tworivers and their tributaries wound its way to the strait and theopen sea, in a winding course through the waste of sands. Turcaillstood to view the whole sweep of land and water, the long stretchof the bay extending more than two miles to the south, pale goldshoals and sinuous silver water, the green shore of Arfon beyond,rolling back into the distant hills. The tide was flowing, but itwould be two hours or more yet before it reached its highest, andcovered all but a narrow belt of salt marsh fringing the shore ofthe bay. By midnight it would be on the turn again, but full enoughto float the little ship with its shallow draught close inshore.Inland of the saltings there would, if luck held, be scrub growththat would give cover to a few skilled and silent men movinginland. Nor would they have far to go. Owain’s encampmentmust span the waist of the peninsula. Even at its narrowest pointit might be as much as a mile across, but he would have pickets oneither shore. Fewer and less watchful, perhaps, on the bay shore,since attack by ship was unlikely that way. Otir’s largervessels would not attempt to thread the shoals. The Welsh would beconcentrating their watch on the sea to westward.

Turcaill was whistling to himself, very softly and contentedly,as he scanned a sky just deepening into dusk. Two hours yet beforethey could set out, and with the evening clouds had gatheredlightly over the heavens, a grey veil, not threatening rain, butpromising cover against too bright a night. From his outeranchorage he would have to make a detour round the bar of shingleto the mouth of the river to reach the clear channel, but thatwould add only some quarter of an hour to the journey. Well beforemidnight, he decided blithely, we can embark.

He was still happily whistling when he turned back to return tothe heart of the camp and consider on the details of hisexpedition. And there confronting him was Heledd, coming down fromthe ridge with her long, springy stride, the dark mane of her hairswaying about her shoulders in the breeze that had quickened withevening, bringing the covering of cloud. Every encounter betweenthem was in some sense a confrontation, bringing with it a racingof the blood on both sides, curiously pleasurable.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, the whistlebreaking off short. “Were you thinking of escaping across thesands?” He was mocking her, as always.

“I followed you,” she said simply. “Straightfrom Otir’s tent, and off with you this way, and eyeing thesky and the tide and that snake-ship of yours. I wascurious.”

“The first time ever you were curious about me or anythingI did,” he said cheerfully. “Why now?”

“Because suddenly I see you head-down on a hunt, and Icannot but wonder what mischief you’re about thistime.”

“No mischief,” said Turcaill. “Why shouldthere be?” He was regarding her, as they walked back slowlytogether, with somewhat narrower attention than he gave to theirusual easy skirmishing, for it seemed to him that she was at leasthalf serious in her probing, even in some way anxious. Here in hercaptivity, between two armed camps, a solitary woman might wellscent mischief, the killing kind, in every move, and fear for herown people.

“I am not a fool,” said Heledd impatiently. “Iknow as well as you do that Otir is not going to letCadwaladr’s treason go unavenged, nor let his fee slipthrough his fingers. He’s no such man! All this day he andall his chiefs have had their heads together over the next move,and now suddenly you come bursting out shining with the awfuldelight you fool men feel in plunging headfirst into a fight, andyou try to tell me there’s nothing in the wind. Nomischief!”

“None that need trouble you,” he assured her.“Otir has no quarrel with Owain or any of Owain’s host,they have cast off Cadwaladr to untie his own knots and pay his owndebts, why should we want to provoke worse? If the promised priceis paid, we shall be off to sea and trouble you no more.”

“A good riddance that will be,” said Heledd sharply.“But why should I trust you and your fellows to manage thingsso well? It needs only one chance wounding or killing, andthere’ll be blazing warfare, and a greatslaughter.”

“And since you are so sure I’m deep in this mischiefyou foresee…”

“The very instrument of it,” she saidvehemently.

“Then can you not trust me to bring it to a goodend?” He was laughing at her again, but with a degree ofalmost apprehensive delicacy.

“You least of all,” she said with vicious certainty.“I know you, you have a lust after danger, there’snothing so foolhardy but you would dare it, and bring downeverything in a bloody battle on all of us.”

“And you, being a good Welshwoman,” said Turcaill,wryly smiling, “fear for your Gwynedd, and all those men ofOwain’s host camped there barely a mile from us.”

“I have a bridegroom among them,” she reminded himsmartly, and set her teeth with a snap.

“So you have. I will not forget your bridegroom,”Turcaill promised, grinning. “At every step I take, I willthink on your Ieuan ab Ifor, and draw in my hand from any strokethat may bring him into peril of battle. There’s no otherconsideration could so surely curb any rashness of mine as the needto see you married to a good, solid uchelwr from Anglesey.Will that content you?”

She had turned to look at him intently, her great eyespurple-black and unwaveringly earnest. “So you are indeedbound on some mad foray for Otir! You have as good as saidso.” And as he did not make any protest or attempt to deny itfurther: “Make good what you have promised me, then. Takegood care! Come back without hurt to any. I would not have even youcome to harm.” And meeting the somewhat too brightintelligence of the blue eyes, she added with a toss of her head,but with a little too much haste for the disdainful dignity atwhich she aimed: “Let alone my own countrymen.”

“And foremost of all your countrymen, Ieuan abIfor,” Turcaill agreed with a solemn face: but she hadalready turned her back on him and set off with erected head andvehement stride towards the sheltered hollow where her own smalltent was placed.

Cadfael arose from his chosen nest in the lee ofthe squat salt bushes wakeful and restless for no good reason, leftMark already sleeping, and dropped his cloak beside his friend, forthe night was warm. It was at Mark’s insistence that they layalways within call of Heledd’s tent, though not so close asto offend her independent spirit. Cadfael had small doubt by thistime of her safety within the Danish enclave. Otir had given hisorders, and no man of his following was likely to take themlightly, even if their minds had not been firmly fixed upon moreprofitable plunder than one Welsh girl, however tempting.Adventurers, Cadfael had noted throughout his own early life ofadventure, were eminently practical people, and knew the value ofgold and possessions. Women came much lower down in the scale ofdesirable loot.

He looked towards where her low windbreak lay, and all was darkand silent there. She must be asleep. For no comprehensible reason,sleep eluded him. The sky bore a light covering of cloud, throughwhich only a star here and there showed faintly. There was no wind,and tonight there would be no moon. The cloud might well thicken bymorning, even bring rain. At this midnight hour the stillness wasprofound, even oppressive, the darkness over the dunes shading awayboth east and west into a very faint impression of lambent lightfrom the sea, now almost at its fullest tide. Cadfael turnedeastward, where the line of guards was more lightly manned, and hewas less likely to excite any challenge by being up and about inthe dead of night. There were no fires, except those turfed down inthe heart of the camp to burn slowly till morning, and no torchesto prick through the darkness. Otir’s watchmen relied ontheir night eyes. So did Brother Cadfael. Shapes grew out ofshapelessness gradually, even the curves and slopes of the duneswere dimly perceptible. It was strange how a man could be sosolitary in the midst of thousands, as if solitude could beachieved at will, and how one to all intents and purposes aprisoner could feel himself freer than his captors, who wenthampered by their numbers and chained by their discipline.

He had reached the crest of the ridge above the anchorage, wherethe lighter and faster Danish ships lay snugly between the open seaand the strait. A wavering line of elusive light, appearing andvanishing as he watched, lipped the shore, and there within itscurve they lay, so many lean, long fishes just perceptible asdarker flecks briefly outlined by the stroking of the tide. Theyquivered, but did not stir from their places. Except for one, theleanest and smallest. He saw it creep out from its anchorage sosoftly that for a moment he thought he was imagining the forwardsurge. Then he caught the dip of the oars, pinpricks of fire, gonealmost before he could realize what they were. No sound came up tohim from the distance, even in this nocturnal stillness andsilence. The least and probably fastest of the dragon-ships wassnaking out into the mouth of the Menai, heading eastward into thechannel.

Another foraging expedition? If that was the intent, it wouldmake good sense to take to the strait by night, and lie upsomewhere well past Carnarvon to begin their forays ashore beforedawn. The town would certainly have been left well garrisoned, butthe shores beyond were still open to raiding, even if most of theinhabitants had removed their stock and all their portable goodsinto the hills. And what was there among the belongings of a goodWelshman that was not portable? With ease they could abandon theirhomesteads if need arose, and rear them again when the danger wasover. They had been doing it for centuries, and were good at it.Yet these nearest fields and settlements had already been lootedonce, and could not be expected to go on providing food for a smallarmy. Cadfael would have expected rather that they would prefercombing the soft coast southward from the open sea, Owain’smuster notwithstanding. Yet this small hunter set off silently intothe strait. In that direction lay only the long passage of theMenai, or, alternatively, she could be meaning to round the bar ofshingle and turn south into the bay by favour of this high tide.Unlikely, on the face of it, though so small a fish could findample draught for some hours yet, until the tide was again well onthe ebb towards its lowest. A larger craft, Cadfael reflectedthoughtfully, would never venture there. Could that in itself bethe reason why this one was chosen, and dispatched alone? Then forwhat nocturnal purpose?”

“So they’re gone,” said Heledd’s voicebehind him, very softly and somberly.

She had come up at his shoulder soundlessly, barefoot in thesand still warm from the day’s sunlight. She was looking downto the shore as he was, and her gaze followed the faintly luminoussingle stroke of the longship’s wake, withdrawing rapidlyeastward. Cadfael turned to look at her, where she stood composedand still, the cloud of her long hair about her.

“ So they’re gone! Had you wind of itbeforehand? It does not surprise you!”

“No,” she said, “it does not surprise me. Notthat I know anything of what is in their minds, but there has beensomething brewing all day since Cadwaladr so spited them as he did.What they are planning for him I do not know, and what it may wellmean for all the rest of us I dare not guess, but surely nothinggood.”

“That is Turcaill’s ship,” said Cadfael. Itwas already so far lost in the darkness that they could follow itnow only with the mind’s eye. But it would not yet havereached the end of the shingle bar.

“So it would be,” she said. “If there’smischief afoot, he must be in it. There’s nothing Otir coulddemand of him, however mad, but he would plunge into it headfirst,joyfully, with never a thought for the consequences.”

“And you have thought of the possible consequences,”Cadfael deduced reasonably, “and do not like them.”

“No,” she said vehemently, “I do not likethem! There could be battle and slaughter if by some foul chance hekills a man of Owain’s. It needs no more to start such ablaze.”

“And what makes you think he is going anywhere nearOwain’s men, to risk such a chance?”

“How should I know what the fool has in mind?” shesaid impatiently. “What troubles me is what he may bring downon the rest of us.”

“I would not so readily score him down as a fool,”said Cadfael mildly. “I would have reckoned him as shrewd inthe wits as he is an able man of his hands. Whatever he’sabout, judge it when he returns, for it’s my beliefhe’ll come back successful.” He was careful not to add:“So leave fretting over him!” She would have denied anysuch concern, though now with less ferocity than once she wouldhave attempted. Best leave well alone. However she might hope todeceive others, Heledd was not the girl to be able to deceiveherself.

And away there to the south in Owain’s camp was the manshe had never yet seen, Ieuan ab Ifor, not much past thirty, whichis not all that old, well thought of by his prince, holder of goodlands, and personable to the beholder’s eye, possessed ofevery asset but one, and invisible and negligible without it. Hewas not the man she had chosen.

“Tomorrow will show,” said Heledd, with relentlesspracticality. “We had best go get our sleep, and be ready forit.”

They had rounded the tip of the shingle bar, andkept well out in the main channel as they turned southward into thebay. Once well within, they could draw inshore and keep a watch onthe coastline for the first outlying pickets of Owain’s camp.Turcaill’s boy Leif kneeled on the tiny foredeck, narrowinghis eyes attentively upon the shore. He was fifteen years old, andspoke the Welsh of Gwynedd, for his mother had been snatched fromthis same north-western coast at twelve years old, on a passingDanish raid, and had married a Dane of the Dublin kingdom. But shehad never forgotten her language, and had spoken it always with herson, from the time that he learned to speak at all. A half-nakedboy in the high summer, Leif could go among the Welsh trefs and thefishing villages here and pass for one of their own, and his talentfor acquiring information had brought in beforehand a usefulharvest.

“Cadwaladr has kept touch always with those who hold byhim,” Leif had reported cheerfully, “and there are someamong his brother’s muster now would go with him if heattempted some act of his own. And I hear them say he has sent wordsouth from Owain’s camp to his men in Ceredigion. What wordnobody knows, whether to come and join him in arms, or whether tobe ready to put together money and cattle if he is forced to paywhat he promised us. But if a messenger comes asking for himhe’ll think it no harm, rather to his gain.”

And there was more to be told, the fruit of much attentivelistening. “Owain will not have him close to him. He keeps afew of his own about him now, and has made his base at the southernedge of the camp, in the corner nearest the bay. There if newscomes for him from his old lands, he can let the messenger in andOwain need not know. For he’ll play one hand against theother however his vantage lies,” said Leif knowingly.

There was no arguing with that. Everyone who knew Cadwaladr knewit for truth. If the Danes had been slow to realise it, they knewit now. And Leif could be the messenger as well as any other. Atfourteen a Welsh boy becomes a man, and is acknowledged as aman.

The ship drew in cautiously closer to shore. Outlines of duneand shingle and scattered bushes showed as denser or paler bulks inthe dark, slipping by on their right hand. And presently the outerfringe of the Welsh camp became perceptible rather by the lingeringintimations of humanity, the smoke of fires, the resinous odors ofnewly split wood in the lengths of stockade, even the mingled,murmurous sounds of such activity as persisted into the night, thanby anything seen or clearly heard. The steersman brought his barquestill closer, wary of the undulations of marsh grass beneath theplacid surface of the shallows, until they should have passed themain body of the camp, and drawn alongside that southern cornerwhere Cadwaladr was reputed to have set up his camp within thecamp, drawing about him men of his old following, whose adherenceto his brother remained less reliable than to their former prince.More than one fashion of messenger could make contact with himthere, and other tidings reach him besides the gratifying news thathis lavish generosity was still remembered by some, and himselfstill held in respect as lord and prince, to whom old fealty wasdue. He could still be reminded, not only of privileges, but ofresponsibilities owing, and debts unpaid.

The line of the shore receded from them, dipping westward, andclosed with them again gradually as they slid past. The faintwarmth and stir that was not quite sound, but only some primitivesensitivity to the presence of other human creatures, unseen,unheard, watchful and potentially hostile, fell behind then intothe empty silence of the night.

“We are past,” said Turcaill softly into thesteersman’s ear. “Lay us inshore.”

The oars dipped softly. The lithe little ship slid smoothly inamong the tufted grasses, and touched bottom as gently as a featherlighting. Leif swung his legs over the side, and dropped into theshallows. There was firm sand under his bare feet, and the waterreached barely halfway to his knee. He looked back along the lineof the shore where they had passed, and even over the darkened campthere still hung a faint glow left over from the day.

“We’re close. Wait till I bring word.”

He was gone, winding his way in through the salt grasses and thestraggle of scrub to the lift of the dunes beyond, narrow here, andsoon rising into rough pasture, and then into good fields. Hisslight shape melted into the soft, dense darkness.

He was back within a quarter of an hour, sliding out of thenight as silently as a wisp of mist before they were prepared forhis return, though they had waited without impatience, with earspricked for any alien sound. Leif waded through the salt bush andthe shallow water cold round his legs, and reached to hold by theship’s side and whisper in an excited hiss: “I havefound him! And close! He has a man of his own on the guard-post.Nothing simpler than to come to him in secret from this side. Herethey expect no attack by land, he can go and come as he pleases,and so can some who would liefer do his bidding thanOwain’s.”

“You have not been within?” demanded Turcaill.“Past the guard?”

“No need! Someone else found the way there not a momentahead of me, coming from the south. I was in the bushes, closeenough to hear him challenged. He had but to open his mouth,whoever he is, and he was welcome within. And I saw where he wasled. He’s fast within Cadwaladr’s tent with him now,and even the guard sent back to his watch. There’s noneinside there now but Cadwaladr and his visitor, and only one guardbetween us and the pair of them.”

“Are you sure Cadwaladr is there?” demanded Torsten,low-voiced. “You cannot have seen him.”

“I heard his voice. I waited on the man from the time weleft Dublin,” said the boy firmly. “Do you think I donot know the sound of him by now?”

“And you heard what was said? This other—did he namehim?”

“No name! ‘You!’ he said, loud and clear, butno name. But he was surprised and glad, more than glad of him. Youmay take the pair of them, once the guard is silenced, and let theman himself tell you his name.”

“We came for one,” said Turcaill, “and withone we’ll go back. And no killing! Owain is out of thisquarrel, but he’ll be in fast enough if we do murder on oneof his men.”

“But won’t stir for his brother?” marvelledLeif, half under his breath.

“What should he fear for his brother? Not a scratch uponCadwaladr, bear in mind! If he pays his proper ransom he gets hisleave to go, as whole as when he hired us. Owain knows it betterthan any. No need to have it said. Over with you, then, andwe’ll be out with the tide.”

Their plans had been made beforehand; and if they had taken nocount of this unexpected traveller from the south, they could verysimply be adapted to accommodate him. Two men alone together in atent conveniently close to the rim of the camp offered an easytarget, once the guard was put out of action. Cadwaladr’s ownman, in his confidence and in whatever schemes he had in mind, musttake his chance of rough handling, but need come to no permanentharm.

“I will take care of the guard,” said Torsten, firstto slip over the side to where Leif waited. Five more ofTurcaill’s oarsmen followed their leader into the salt marshand across the sandy beach. The night received them silently andindifferently, and Leif went before, retracing his own path fromcover to sparse cover towards the perimeter of the camp. In theshelter of a straggling cluster of low trees he halted, peeringahead between the branches. The line of the defenses wasperceptible ahead merely as a more solid and rigid darkness whereevery other shadow was sinuous and elusive. But Cadwaladr’sliegeman could be seen against the gap which was the gate heguarded, as he paced back and forth across it, head and shouldersclear against the sky. A big man, and armed, but casual in hismovements, expecting no alarm. Torsten watched the leisurely patrolfor some minutes, marked its extent, and slipped sidelong among thetrees to be behind its furthest eastward point, where bushesapproached to within a few yards of the stockade, and a man coulddraw close without being heard or seen.

The guard was whistling softly to himself as he turned in thesoft sand, and Torsten’s sinewy left arm took him hard aroundbody and arms, and the right clamped a palm hard over his mouth andcut off the whistle abruptly. He groped frantically upward to tryand grip the arm that was gagging him, but could not reach highenough, and his struggles to kick viciously backward cost him hisbalance and did no harm to Torsten, who swung him off his feet anddropped bodily over him into the sand, holding him face-down. Bythat time Turcaill was beside them, ready to thrust a fold ofwoollen cloth into the man’s mouth as soon as he was allowedto raise himself, and empty it splutteringly of sand and grass.They wound him head and shoulders in his own cloak, and bound himfast hand and foot. There they bestowed him safely enough, if nonetoo comfortably, among the bushes, and turned their attention tothe rim of the camp. There had been no outcry, and there was nostirring within the fences. Somewhere about the prince’stents there would be men wakeful and alert, but here at theremotest corner, deliberately chosen by Cadwaladr for his ownpurposes, there was no one at hand to turn back retribution fromhim.

Only Turcaill and Torsten and two others followed Leif as hepadded softly in through the unguarded gate, and along the stockadetowards the remembered spot where he had caught the unmistakable,authoritative tones of Cadwaladr’s voice, raised inastonished pleasure as he recognised his midnight visitor. Thelines of the camp ended here, in stillness and silence, theinvaders moved as shadows among shadows. Leif pointed, and said noword. There was no need. Even in a military camp Cadwaladr wouldhave his rank heeded and his comforts attended to. The tent wasample, proof against wind and weather, and no doubt as wellsupplied within. At the edges of the flap that shielded itsentrance fine lines of light showed, and on the still air of thenight lowered voices made a level, confidential murmur, too softfor words. The messenger from the south was still there with hisprince, their heads together over tidings brought and plans to behatched.

Turcaill set his hand to the tent-flap, and waited untilTorsten, with his drawn dagger in his hand, had circled the tent tofind a rear seam where the skins were sewn together. Thin leatherthongs or greased cord, either could be cut with a sharp enoughblade. The light within, by the steady way it burned and its lowsource, must be a simple wick in a small dish of oil, set perhapson a stool or a trestle. Bodies moving outside would show nooutline, while Torsten as he selected his place, could sense ratherthan see the vague bulks of the two within. Close indeed,attentive, absorbed, expecting no interruption.

Turcaill whipped aside the tent-flap and plunged within so fast,and with two others so hard on his heels, that Cadwaladr had notime to do more than leap to his feet in indignant alarm, his mouthopen to vent his outrage, before there was a drawn dagger at histhroat, and princely anger at being rudely interrupted changedinstantly into frozen understanding and devout and quiveringstillness. He was a foolhardy man, but of excellently quickperceptions, and his foolhardiness did not extend so far as toargue with a naked blade when his own hands were empty. It was theman who sat beside him on the well-furnished brychan who sprang tothe attack, lunging upward at Turcaill’s throat. But behindhim Torsten’s knife had sliced down the leather thongs thatbound the skins of the tent together, and a great hand took thestranger by the hair, and dragged him backwards. Before he couldrise again he was swathed in the coverings of the bed and held fastby Turcaill’s men.

Cadwaladr stood motionless and silent, well aware of the steeljust pricking his throat. His fine black eyes were glittering withfury, his teeth set with the effort of restraint, but he made nomove as the companion he had welcomed with pleasure was trussedinto helplessness, in spite of his struggles, and disposed ofalmost tenderly on his lord’s bed.

“Make no sound,” said Turcaill, “and come tono harm. Cry out, and my hand may slip. There is a little matter ofbusiness Otir wishes to discuss with you.”

“This you will rue!” said Cadwaladr though histeeth.

“So I may,” Turcaill agreed accommodatingly,“but not yet. I would offer you the choice between walking orbeing dragged, but there’s no putting any trust inyou.” And to his two oarsmen he said: “Securehim!” and drew back his hand to sheathe the dagger heheld.

Cadwaladr was not quick enough to seize the one instant when hemight have cried out loudly and raised a dozen men to his aid. Asthe steel was withdrawn he did open his mouth to call on his own,but a rug from the brychan was flung over his head, and a broadhand clamped it smotheringly into his open mouth. The only soundthat emerged was a strangled moan, instantly crushed. He lashed outthen with fists and feet, but the harsh woollen cloth was woundtightly about him, and bound fast.

Outside the tent Leif stood sentinel with pricked ears, and wideeyes sweeping the dark spaces of the camp for any movement thatmight threaten their enterprise, but all was still. If Cadwaladrhad desired and ordered private and undisturbed converse with hisvisitor, he had done Turcaill’s work for him very thoroughly.No one stirred. In the copse where they had left the guard the lastof their party came looming out of the dark to join them, andlaughed softly at sight of the burden they carried between them,slung by the ropes that pinioned him.

The guard?” asked Turcaill in a whisper.

“Well alive, and muttering curses. And we’d best beaboard before they find he’s missing and come looking forhim.”

“And the other one?” Leif ventured to ask softly, asthey wound their way back from cover to cover towards the beach andthe saltings. “What have you done with him?”

“Left him to his rest,” said Turcaill.

“You said no killing!”

“And there’s been none. Not a scratch on him, youcan be easy. Owain has no cause for feud against us more than hehad from the moment we set foot on his soil.”

“And we still don’t know,” marvelled Leif,padding steadily along beside him into the moist fringe left by thereceding tide, “who the other one was, and what he was doingthere. You may yet wish you’d secured him while youcould.”

“We came for one, and we’re taking back one. All wewanted and needed,” said Turcaill.

The crew left aboard reached to hoist Cadwaladr over into thewell between the benches, and help their fellows after. Thesteersman leaned upon his heavy steer board, the inshore rowersthrust off with their oars, poling the little ship quite lightlyand smoothly back along the furrow she had ploughed in the sand,until she rode clear and lifted joyously into the ebb of thetide.

Before dawn they delivered their prize, with somepride, to an Otir who had just roused from sleep, but camebright-eyed and content to the encounter. Cadwaladr emerged fromhis stifling wrappings flushed and tousled and viciously enraged,but containing his bitter fury within an embattled silence.

“Had you trouble by the way?” asked Otir, eyeing hisprisoner with shrewd satisfaction. Unmarked, unblooded, extractedfrom among his followers without trampling his formidablebrother’s toes, or harming any other soul. A mission veryneatly accomplished, and one that should be made to show aprofit.

“None,” said Turcaill. “The man had preparedhis own fall, withdrawing himself so to the very rim, and plantinga man of his own on guard. Not for nothing! I fancy he has beenlooking for word from his old lands, and made shift to keep a dooropen. For I doubt he’ll get any sympathy from Owain, orexpects any.”

At that Cadwaladr did open his mouth, unlocking his set teethwith an effort, for it was doubtful if he himself quite believedwhat he was about to say. “You misread the strength of theWelsh blood-tie. Brother will hold by brother. You have broughtOwain down on you with all his host, and so you willdiscover.”

“As brother held by brother when you came hiring Dublinmen to threaten your brother with warfare,” saidOtir, and laughed briefly and harshly.

“You will see,” said Cadwaladr hotly, “whatOwain will venture for my sake.”

“So we shall, and so will you. I doubt you’ll findless comfort in it than we shall. He has given both you and me fairnotice that your quarrel is not his quarrel, and you must pay yourown score. And so you shall,” said Otir with glossysatisfaction, “before you set foot again outside this camp. Ihave you, and I’ll keep you until you pay me what youpromised. Every coin, every calf, or the equal in goods we willhave out of you. That done, you may go free, back to your lands orbeggarly into the world again, as Owain pleases. And I warn you,never again look to Dublin for help, we know now the worth of yourword. And that being so,” he said, thoughtfully plying hismassive jowls in a muscular fist, “we’ll make sure ofyou, now that we have you!” He turned upon Turcaill, whostood by watching this encounter with detached interest, his ownpart already done. “Give him in charge to Torsten to keep,but see him tethered. We know all too well his word and oath are nobond to him, so we may rightly use other means. Put chains on him,and see him watched and kept close.”

“You dare not!” Cadwaladr spat on a hissing breath,and made a convulsive movement to launch himself against his judge,but ready hands plucked him back with insulting ease, and held himwrithing and sweating between his grinning guards. In the face ofsuch casual and indifferent usage his boiling rage seemed hardlymore than a turbulent child’s tantrum, and burned itself outinevitably into the cold realization that he was helpless, and mustresign himself to the reversion of his fortunes, for he could donothing to change it.

“Pay what you owe us, and go,” said Otir with bleaksimplicity. And to Torsten: “Take him away!”

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