the cloister.”
The heated conference went on until Vespers, and poisoned even Vespers with its bitterness, for there Prior Robert preached a fearful sermon detailing all the omens that Winifred desired above all things to remove to the sanctity of Shrewsbury, and issuing her prophetic denunciation against all who stood in the way of her translation. Terrible would be her wrath visited on those who dared resist her will. Thus Prior Robert approached the necessary reconciliation with Rhisiart. And though Cadfael in translating toned down the threat as much as he dared, there were some among the congregation who understood enough English to get the full drift of it. He knew by their closed, mute faces. Now they would go away to spread the word to those who had not been present, until everyone in Gwytherin knew that the prior had bidden them remember what befell Prince Cradoc, whose very flesh watered away into the ground like rain, so that he vanished utterly, as to the body expunged out of the world, as to the soul, the fearful imagination dared not guess. So also it might happen to those who dared offend against Winifred now.
Father Huw, harried and anxious, cast about him as honestly as he could for a way of pleasing everybody. It took him most of the evening to get the prior to listen, but from sheer exhaustion a calm had to set in at last.
“Rhisiart is not an impious man — “
“Not impious!” fluted Brother Jerome, appealing to heaven with uplifted eyes. “Men have been excommunicated for less!”
“Then men have been excommunicated for no evil at all,” said Huw sturdily, “and truly I think they sometimes have. No, I say he is a decent, devout man, open-handed and fair, and had a right to resent it when he was misunderstood and affronted. If he is ever to withdraw his opposition, it must be you, Father Prior, who make the first approach to him, and upon a different footing. Not in person first, I would not ask or advise it. But if I were to go to him, perhaps with Brother Cadfael here, who is known to be a good Welshman himself, and ask him to forget all that has been said and done, and come with an open mind to begin the discussion over again, I think he would not refuse. Moreover, the very act of seeking him out would disarm him, for he has a generous heart. I don’t say he would necessarily change his mind — it would depend on how he is handled this time — but I do say he would listen.”
“Far be it from me” said Prior Robert loftily “to pass over any means of saving a soul from perdition. I wish the man no ill, if he tempers his offences. It is not a humiliation to stoop to deliver a sinner.”
“O wondrous clemency!” intoned Brother Jerome. “Saintly generosity towards the ill-doer!”
Brother John flashed a narrow, glittering glance, and shifted one foot uneasily, as if restraining an impulse to kick. Father Huw, desperate to preserve his stock of goodwill with prince, bishop, prior and people alike, cast him a warning look, and resumed hurriedly: “I will go to Rhisiart tonight, and ask him to dine here at my house tomorrow Then if we can come to terms between us, another assembly can be called, so that all may know there is peace.”
“Very well!” said the prior, after consideration. In that way he need never actually admit any guilt on his part, or apologise for any act of his, nor need he enquire too closely what Huw might have to say on his behalf. “Very well, do so, and I hope you may succeed.”
“It would be a mark of your status, and the importance of this gesture,” suggested Cadfael with an earnest face, “if your messengers went mounted. It’s not yet dark, and the horses would be better for exercise.”
“True,” said the prior, mildly gratified. “It would be in keeping with our dignity and lend weight to our errand. Very well, let Brother John bring the horses.”
“Now that’s that I call a friend!” said Brother John heartily, when they were all three in the saddle, and safely away into the early dusk under the trees, Father Huw and John on the two tall horses, Brother Cadfael on the best of the mules. “Ten more minutes, and I should have earned myself a penance that would have lasted a month or more, and now here we are in the best company around, on a decent errand, and enjoying the quiet of the evening.”
“Did I ever say word of your coming with us?” said Cadfael slyly. “I said the horses would add lustre to the embassage, I never went so far as to say you would add any.”
“I go with the horses. Did you ever hear of an ambassador riding without a groom? I’ll keep well out of the way while you confer, and play the dutiful servant. And by the by, Bened will be doing his drinking up there at the hall tonight. They go the rounds, and it’s Cai’s turn.”
“And how did you learn so much,” wondered Cadfael, “without a word of Welsh?”
“Oh, they knock their meaning into me somehow, and I into them. Besides, I have several words of Welsh already, and if we’re held up here for a while I shall soon learn a great many more, if I can get my tongue round them. I could learn the smith’s art, too. I lent him a hand at the forge this morning.”
“You’re honoured. In Wales not everyone can be a smith.”
Huw indicated the fence that had begun to run alongside them on the right. “Cadwallon’s holding. We have a mile of forest to go yet to Rhisiart’s hall.”
It was still no more than dusk when they emerged into a large clearing, with ploughed and planted strips surrounding a long stockade fence. The smell of wood-smoke drifted on the air, and glimmer of torches lit the open doorway of the hall. Stables and barns and folds clung to the inner side of the fence, and men and women moved briskly about the evening business of a considerable household.
“Well, well!” said the voice of Cai the ploughman, from a bench under the eaves of one of the byres. “So you’ve found your way by nose to where the mead is tonight, Brother Cadfael.” And he moved up obligingly to make room, shoulder to shoulder with Bened. “Padrig’s making music within, and from all I hear it may well be war music, but he’ll be with us presently. Sit yourself down, and welcome. Nobody looks on you as the enemy.”
There was a third with them already, a long man seated in deeper shadow, his legs stretched well out before him at ease, and his hair showing as a primrose pallor even in the dimness. The young outlander, Engelard, willingly gathered up his long limbs and also moved to share the bench. He had a quick, open smile vivid with white teeth.
“We’ve come expressly to halt the war,” said Brother Cadfael as they dismounted, and a groom of the household came running to take their bridles. “Father Huw has the peace in hand, I’m only an assessor to see fair play. And, sadly, we’ll be expected back with an answer as soon as we’ve spoken with your lord. But if you’ll take charge of Brother John while we deal, he’ll be grateful. He can speak English with Engelard, a man should practise his own tongue when he can.”
But Brother John, it appeared, had at that moment completely lost the use of his tongue in any language, for he
