As a result, they were coming to the end of their sessions and the last case was between two men who were in dispute over the ownership of a ewe and its lamb, which had been grazing among a general herd. The two respondents bore the marks of violence and were arguing their cases simultaneously and vociferously. It looked as if their fight would resume but their King would have none of it. He stood and demanded silence.
“If this behaviour is repeated, I’ll have you both flogged! Then I’ll confiscate the animals and neither of you will have them!” The two men separated and stood facing the throne, still simmering but quiet at last. “Now, you - “ he jabbed a finger at the older of the two “- tell me why these sheep are yours. Do so without baseless accusation, and some kind of proof would be helpful to your case.” The farmer took a deep breath and related his claim that he had bought the sheep at market the previous year - “the Lughnasa Fair, my Lord” and it was notable for a lopsided mark on its face. One side was pure brown, the other had a mask of white. No-one else had wanted it because it looked so odd and thought it may be cursed: “I had no fear of that, my Lord, those are tales for children and women. Oh, er, begging your pardon, my Lady, I meant no disrespect.” He was waved to continue. “I examined the beast. It was sound, so I bought it, exchanged it for an older she-goat and a bushel of oats.” He had grazed it on common land as soon as the weather eased and it had got mixed up with the other’s herd. That one had then claimed right of ownership on the grounds that it wasn’t being looked after, “but it was my animal my Lord, grazing on common land. Everyone’s flocks get mixed up from time to time but we don’t go round claiming ownership. This man could have bid for it at the fair, but he thought it was cursed so he didn’t. Then when he found it was in lamb, he wanted it. Offered me two old wethers for it, but I turned him down and then he just helped himself -” he was getting worked up again and Owain held his hand up for silence.
“You have told your story. Now, you -” he indicated the younger. “- what have you got to say?”
The rebuttal was that the sheep had been left out for three nights in poor weather and may have lost its lamb if left much longer. He had looked after it and fed it from his own store, and treated it in every way as if it was his own. Then his neighbour had demanded its return after a week and called him a thief to the whole town. Again Owain held his hand up for silence before the witness could get too worked up. He had a quick whispered conversation with his brother, and with Gruach - which was very unusual. Women were normally left out of these deliberations. But she was a Pict, and had been raised to play her full part in whatever kingdom she found herself.
Owain addressed the pair again and asked the first why he had failed to take care of his animal, to which the response was that everybody grazed their herds together, and they all looked out for each other’s animals if they strayed away from their own. This was true but brought the accusation that the real reason was that the claimant was lazy. I watched the man’s reaction and could see that this accusation struck home. It appeared that the royal party were also aware of the plaintiff’s reputation, for they didn’t allow him to answer again. They had a further few words together and then Owain stood to pronounce judgment.
“We find in favour of this man,” he indicated the older, “that the sheep and its offspring are his. Ownership is not in doubt, and the basic facts are not disputed.” The owner smiled and moved to depart but Owain called him back. “One moment, I’ve not finished yet. For attempting to deprive this man of his lawful possession, I order you -” he indicated the younger man “- to pay him compensation of two bushels of oats.” The older man looked smug, the younger looked distressed but there was more to come. “I must, however, take into account the fact that this man looked after your beast at a crucial period - lambing time - and may well have saved its life. He has rendered you a service, and for that you shall pay him a just wage of -” he paused and looked again at his two companions, and noticed me as he did so. There was a twinkle in his eye. I made the slightest of bows. I had a feeling that this young King wouldn’t be able to resist a bit of showmanship; something to get the tongues wagging in the marketplace. “- a just wage of two bushels of oats. Now you may go.” The older looked aggrieved for a moment and as if he was about to speak, but thought better of it. He bowed respectfully and left. The other took longer to work the judgment out but realisation dawned of a sudden and he, too, bowed and left the court before the King decided to change his mind.
That concluded the formal court proceedings and the other spectators were dismissed. They had seen justice done, none could argue, done fairly but without the High Druid, which was unusual. I heard snatches of muttered conversation as various groups gathered round the hall, to the effect that a disgruntled complainant could appeal the King’s verdict as the Kingdom’s Druid wasn’t there - but the consensus was that such an appeal wouldn’t get very far. Owain had been scrupulously fair and there had, after all, been a Druid on hand to ensure that all that was done did not conflict with the Law.
The Druid in question, however, excused himself from the King’s presence and left abruptly, and with a face like thunder. I smiled at Owain.
He waved me over to the high table, which had been set up on the dais again. The luncheon was light and informal, I had my usual bread and water. The four of us gathered at one end, where we could speak intimately. Gawain seemed to be a little distant but the King and Queen were back on good terms.
“Well, what did you think of my court, Magister?”
“A model of efficiency and fairness, my Lord. You’re a veritable Solomon.” Owain laughed.
“I try, and of course it’s easier for me to emulate him than it would be for you, don’t you think?”
“Why is that, my Lord?”
“Because we have in common that I’m not a Christian, and neither was Solomon. I would have no more compunction about cutting babies in half than he did. You and your fellow Christians worry too much about morality, and the sanctity of life, and all the other stuff you preach about. I - and Solomon - just administer justice. You don’t have to be a Christian to be fair.” Owain and his wife chuckled, although Gawain didn’t join in. “And it’s efficient. We got through fifteen cases this morning, I think. A new record, isn’t it Gawain?”
“Aye.” The prince nodded, but he seemed out of sorts. Owain looked quizzically at his brother for a moment before continuing.
“Amazing, though. Whenever we’ve had Druid Gwynfor in attendance before we’ve gone on for ages. He’s as windy as a horse after a bucket of bran. With today’s batch he would have gone on for a week or so if we hadn’t kept him under control. Don’t you think so, Gawain?”
“I expect so,” he replied but hardly stopped eating in order to do so, and he didn’t look at his company. Owain was exasperated.
“Gawain, what’s wrong with you? You’re like a man who’s just found out his best horse has gone lame. What’s upset you?” Gruach too looked concerned.
“Nothing.”
“Don’t give me that. You’re as miserable as sin all of a sudden. What is it? Tell me.” The prince breathed heavily.
“Sometimes I find the obligations of state heavy. I don’t always enjoy the company we have to keep.” Owain started to ask what - or who - he was talking about, but his brother cut him short. “I’d like to be excused, if I may. I have some urgent matters to attend to.” Owain agreed after a moment’s hesitation. He and I stood as Gawain bowed and took his leave. He walked off without a backward glance, leaving his meal barely half eaten.
“Anselm, have you and Gawain had a disagreement?” I was able to answer honestly that I hadn’t spoken to Gawain since the night before, and that we’d then parted on what I thought were cordial terms although (I confessed) I had pushed the subject of the Synod at Whitby further than I maybe should have. “That wouldn’t have caused this. He’s used to that sort of thing and it’s never upset him before. You’re absolutely certain you haven’t
had words of any sort?” I confirmed we had not, but I suspected the reason: our absent friend, Ieuan, had probably told him something of our discussion that morning. I hoped the King wouldn’t press the matter too keenly as I would’ve hated to be put in the position of lying, whatever the cause.
“Well, something has disturbed him, and I hope it isn’t you. Gawain is a bad enemy to have - on two counts: his own, and the fact that he’s my brother. His enemy is my enemy, so take care, Magister.”
The three of us resumed our meal in silence. Owain called his clerk over to give me the letter he wanted delivered to Oswy, King of Northumbria.
“It contains the message we discussed this morning. The seal must not be broken until you are in Oswy’s presence and, as I said, make sure he gets the message. Spell it out to him if necessary.” I agreed and we ate in silence for a few moments before I ventured to ask after Ieuan.
“I saw him only briefly. He told me he had to attend a sick child you’d discovered. He has great healing powers and I know he has a duty to the sick. I expect that he’s recuperating somewhere; exercising his Gift takes a great deal out of him. He sent Gwynfor to act in his stead today. Anyway, we were able to keep him under control, as you saw.” The conversation lightened again as they recalled the Druid in the unaccustomed state of virtual silence. It was impossible for the King’s natural good spirits to remain subdued for long.
We finished our meal and as we stood to leave Gruach asked what was in my sack. The distractions of the day had driven my original quest from my mind completely. I explained that I’d been gathering ingredients for my medicines.
“And I must sort them before I leave if you’ll excuse me, Owain?”
“That quest of yours explains the state of your habit, Anselm. I was wondering how it had got so muddy.” That was another thing that had slipped my mind. I would have to use brain-fever medicine on myself before I started to forget my medicinal recipes. “And I’m afraid I can’t give you leave to sort out your lotions and potions, my friend. You don’t have time. Go and get the rest of your things and meet me at the gate in five minutes. You have to leave within the hour.” Owain smiled his enigmatic smile again and left before I could ask what was going on. “But there is something I want to ask you before you go. Spare me a few minutes down on the shore.”
Even Gruach refused to tell me what was going on. She just smiled and told me I’d find out in good time what was in the King’s mind - but she assured me that I would not be displeased. With that, she took her leave.
It didn’t take me as long as five minutes to gather the remains of my belongings from my room and to change from the loaned robe back into my own, which had been washed, dried, and had its worse tears and threadbare patches repaired. I got enough food for one day from the irritable cook in the kitchen and then went off to keep my appointment with the King. I would be able to catch up on preparing my medicines later on, in the evening. I reached the gate and had to wait for Owain to arrive. He came with Gruach and with Gawain as well. He still looked unhappy. There was a small group of people I didn’t recognise following in their wake.
“Magister! You prepare yourself quickly I see, and now we’ve kept you waiting! You must be eager to discover what’s in store. All will revealed shortly. Ieuan sends his apologies and wishes for a good journey. He’s still fatigued, he’s not as young as he was.” Owain turned to the others and went to have a word with them. He was in good spirits again.
“Magister, a word if you please,” Gawain spoke quietly and moved off a few steps. I followed. The prince put his hands on his hips and turned to speak to me. His expression was friendly so that anyone who observed would think we were exchanging pleasantries. His words, however, were not amicable.
“I’ve been speaking to Ieuan. He’s extremely upset, and I was able to get out of him that you were the cause. Why did you have to force him to tell you about me?”
“I didn’t, Gawain,” I replied.
“Then how do you come to know about me?”
“I knew the moment we were introduced last night. I have the Sight, as you know. I can look into men’s hearts, whether I wish to or not. He didn’t need to tell me anything about your secret – which, I can assure you, is safe in my keeping. I won’t betray you.”
“So Ieuan says. He’s made me promise to do you no harm,” he looked firmly at me but the smile was still present, “nor to allow harm to come to you. Otherwise you would be in fear of your life.” I considered that I already was, if anyone found out about my visit to the Glade that morning. “Never say anything to anyone, or my promise to Ieuan is broken.” He half turned away before continuing. “I love that old man. He was our guardian and protector from an early age. He prepared us for our current role. He is as a father to me. How have you hurt him? I thought he was your friend as well?”
“He was, and is I trust, but he’s changed from the man I knew. I’d rather not go into any more detail, Gawain. There is something unresolved between us. I hope we’ll be able to settle our differences, although that won’t be today, obviously.”
“See that you treat him more gently in future.” I was about to leave when Gawain continued, “He sends you his good wishes and you have mine as well, but only grudgingly, and at his insistence. You’ve overstepped the bounds of a good guest and though I was brought up to respect and admire you, I have to tell you that you are not my friend. And you won’t be until Ieuan is at peace with you. Good day to you, Magister.” He turned away and then turned back to me again.
“There was something I wanted to ask you – “ he began to say but then he swayed, as if he was at sea. He put his hand up to his forehead. I went to catch him before he fell to the ground; he looked ashen and faint. Just then, a servant ran up.
“My lord prince,” he said, “you are needed in the castle. Lord Ieuan sent me to find you.” Gawain nodded and regained his balance. The colour returned to his cheeks. He shook his head to clear it and looked at me again.
“What was I saying?”
“You wanted to ask me something?”
“Did I?” he paused for a moment. “I can’t remember. If it’s important, I shall send word. Good day, Anselm. Don’t forget what I said.” He took to his heel and strode off.
“Good day, my Lord,” I muttered and bowed to his back. I went back to join Owain’s company. The King was still in good spirits. He expressed his hope that the two of us had resolved our differences, to which I gave a bland reply. Owain mounted a horse, as did the Queen, who was wearing a thick cloak against the cold. She was accompanied by her ladies, as usual.
“I’d offer you a horse, Magister, but I know you’d refuse it. Wouldn’t you?”
“I would, sir. I prefer to keep my feet firmly on the ground, but I thank you for the thought.” Owain laughed more than the joke deserved and we set off out of the gate and down the hill.
I looked out for the hut with the sick child and saw the old woman sitting outside on a low bench rocking a bundle of rags on her knee. I went over to ask after the boy but I didn’t need to: he was lying in her arms, looking weak and pale but his eyes were bright and his colour much closer to normal. The improvement seemed nothing short of miraculous, but I wasn’t surprised. I’d seen the results of Ieuan’s work before. The woman and I exchanged a smile and a brief greeting. I gave them both my blessing before I walked on.
I looked around for other children as I hurried to catch the others up and saw several, enough to ease my earlier concern somewhat although I still thought that they were a little thin on the ground. I didn’t have a chance to look any further as I was called to hurry and catch up with the company following in the King’s wake. It was made up of merchants, traders and itinerant artisans, numbering about two dozen in all. They had different destinations but a family totalling seven, including parents, their two brothers and children down to a babe in arms were heading for the Melrose fair, which would be taking place in just over a week. They were carrying all their war
es on the backs of the four adults. We would travel together for some time, a prospect that quite pleased me. Most of my journeys, down the years, had been solitary and sometimes I was alone for weeks at a time in the wilder and more desolate places.
All of us had been delayed at Dumbarton by Owain’s order. He had assured us that we would reach our destinations in time but the others were getting restless. Time was short, distances great and the King seemed unconcerned as he led us down the hill and across the fields to the bank of a tributary of the mighty Clyde river, which gave the kingdom its name. The River Leven was tidal but less open than the estuary into which it flowed. There was a lot of activity on a recently-constructed jetty. Work was still going on; it looked like it was being extended and its capacity greatly increased. The jetty I had seen turned out to be one of two, which reached into the river and were clearly intended to provide shelter for a large number of rivercraft. Were there really enough fishing-boats for what was beginning to look like a significant port?
The Monk (Prince Ciaran th Damned Book 3) Page 11