lad he was, and thin and intense, with bright hazel eyes in a grave oval face, featured finely enough for a woman, but with good lean bones in it, too. There was a quality of devotional anxiety about him that must be for Elis ap Cynan at this moment, but at another might be for Wales, for his prince, some day, no doubt, for a woman, but whatever its object it would always be there. This one would never be quite at rest.
He bent the knee eagerly to Owain, and Owain clouted him amiably on the shoulder and said: ‘Sit down here with Brother Cadfael, and have out of him everything you want to know. Though the best you know already, your other self is alive and can be bought back you at a price.’ And with that he left them together and went to confer with Tudur.
Eliud sat down willingly and spread his elbows on the board to lean ardently close. ‘Brother, it is true, what Cristina told me? You have Elis safe in Shrewsbury? They came back without him… I sent to know, but there was no one could tell me where he went astray or how. I have been hunting and asking everywhere and so has the prince, for all he makes a light thing of it. He is my father’s fostering, you’re Welsh yourself, so you know. We grew up together from babes, and there are no more brothers, either side…’ ‘I do know,’ agreed Cadfael, ‘and I say again, as Cristina said to you, he is safe enough, man alive and as good as new.’ ‘You’ve seen him? Talked to him? You’re sure it’s Elis and no other? A well, looking man of his company,’ explained Eliud apologetically, ‘if he found himself prisoner, might award himself a name that would stead him better than his own…’ Cadfael patiently described his man, and told over the whole tale of the rescue from the flooded brook and Elis’s obstinate withdrawal into the Welsh tongue until a Welshman challenged him. Eliud listened, his lips parted and his eyes intent, and was visibly eased into conviction.
‘And was he so uncivil to those ladies who saved him? Oh, now I do know him for Elis, he’d be so shamed, to come back to life in such hands, like a babe being thumped into breathing!’ No mistake, the solemn youth could laugh, and laughter lit up his grave face and made his eyes sparkle. It was no blind love he had for his twin who was no twin, he knew him through and through, scolded, criticised, fought with him, and loved him none the less. The girl Cristina had a hard fight on her hands. And so you got him from the nuns. And had he no hurts at all, once he was wrung dry?’ ‘Nothing worse than a gash in his hinder end, got from a sharp rock in the brook, while he was drowning. And that’s salved and healed. His worst trouble was that you would be mourning him for dead, but my journey here eases him of that anxiety, as it does you of yours. No need to fret about Elis ap Cynan. Even in an English castle he is soon and easily at home.’ ‘So he would be,’ agreed Eliud in the soft, musing voice of tolerant affection. ‘So he always was and always will be. He has the gift. But so free with it, sometimes I fret for him indeed!’ Always, rather than sometimes, thought Cadfael, after the young man had left him, and the hall was settling down for the night round the turfed and quiet fire. Even now, assured of his friend’s safety and well, being, and past question or measure glad of that, even now he goes with locked brows and inward, gazing eyes. He had a troubled vision of those three young creatures bound together in inescapable strife, the two boys linked together from childhood, locked even more securely by the one’s gravity and the other’s innocent rashness, and the girl betrothed in infancy to half of an inseparable pair. Of the three the prisoner in Shrewsbury seemed to him the happiest by far, since he lived in the day, warming in its sunlight, taking cover from its storms, in every case finding by instinct the pleasant corner and the gratifying entertainment. The other two burned like candles, eating their own substance and giving an angry and vulnerable light.
He said prayers for all three before he slept, and awoke in the night to the uneasy reflection that somewhere, shadowy as yet, there might be a fourth to be considered and prayed for.
The next day was clear and bright, with light frost that lost its powdery sparkle as soon as the sun came up; and it was pleasure to have a whole day to spend in his own Welsh countryside with a good conscience and in good company. Owain Gwynedd again rode out eastward upon another patrol with a half, dozen of his young men, and again came back in the evening well content. It seemed that Ranulf of Chester was lying low for the moment, digesting his gains.
As for Cadfael, since word could hardly be expected to come back from Aberystwyth until the following day, he gladly accepted the prince’s invitation to ride with them, and see for himself the state of readiness of the border villages that kept watch on England. They returned to the courtyard of Tudur’s maenol in the early dusk, and beyond the flurry and bustle of activity among the grooms and the servants, the hall door hung open, and sharp and dark against the glow of the fire and the torches within stood the small, erect figure of Cristina, looking out for the guests returning, in order to set all forward for the evening meal. She vanished within for a few moments only, and then came forth to watch them dismount, her father at her side.
It was not the prince Cristina watched. Cadfael passed close by her as he went within, and saw by the falling light of the torches how her face was set, her lips taut and unsmiling, and her eyes fixed insatiably upon Eliud as he alighted and handed over his mount to the waiting groom. The glint of dark red that burned in the blackness of hair and eyes seemed by this light to have brightened into a deep core of anger and resentment.
What was no less noticeable, when Cadfael looked back in sheer human curiosity, was the manner in which Eliud, approaching the doorway, passed by her with an unsmiling face and a brief word, and went on his way with averted eyes. For was not she as sharp a thorn in his side as he in hers?
The sooner the marriage, the less the mischief, and the better prospect of healing it again, thought Cadfael, departing to his Vesper office; and instantly began to wonder whether he was not making far too simple a matter of this turmoil between three people, of whom only one was simple at all.
The prince’s messenger came back late in the afternoon of the following day, and made report to his master, who called in Cadfael at once to hear the result of the quest.
‘My man reports that Gilbert Prestcote is indeed in my brother’s hands, and can and shall be offered in exchange for Elis. There may be a little delay, for it seems he was badly wounded in the fighting at Lincoln, and is recovering only slowly. But if you will deal directly with me, I will secure him as soon as he is fit to be moved, and have him brought by easy stages to Shrewsbury. We’ll lodge him at Montford on the last night, where Welsh princes and English earls used to meet for parley, send Hugh Beringar word ahead, and bring him to the town. There your garrison may hand over Elis in exchange.’ ‘Content, indeed!’ said Cadfael heartily, ‘And so will Hugh Beringar be.’ ‘I shall require safeguards,’ said Owain, ‘and am willing to give them.’ As for your good faith, nowhere in this land of Wales or my foster, land of England is it in question. But my lord you do not know, and he is content to leave with you a hostage, to be his guarantee until you have Elis safe in your hands again. From you he requires none. Send him Gilbert Prestcote, and you may have Elis ap Cynan, and send back the guarantor at your pleasure.’ ‘No,’ said Owain firmly. ‘If I ask warranty of a man, I also give it. Leave me your man here and now, if you will, and if he has his orders and is ready and willing, and when my men bring Gilbert Prestcote home I will send Eliud with him to remain with you as surety for his cousin’s honour and mine until we again exchange hostages halfway, on the border dyke by Oswestry, shall we say, if I am still in these parts?, and conclude the bargain. There is virtue, sometimes, in observing the forms. And besides, I should like to meet your Hugh Beringar, for he and I have a common need to be on our guard against others you wot of.’ ‘The same thought has been much in Hugh’s mind,’ agreed Cadfael fervently, ‘and trust me, he will take pleasure in coming to meet you wherever may be most suited to the time. He shall bring you Eliud again, and you shall restore him a young man who is his cousin on his mother’s side, John Marchmain. You noted him this morning, the tallest among us. John came with me ready and willing to remain if things went well.’ ‘He shall be well entertained,’ said Owain.
‘Faith, he’s been looking forward to it, though his knowledge of Welsh is small. And since we are agreed,’ said Cadfael, ‘I’ll see him instructed in his duty tonight, and make an early start back to Shrewsbury in the morning with the rest of my company.’ Before sleeping that night he went out from the smoke and warmth of the hall to take a
