‘Yes.’
‘I am staggered.’
Frodo beamed. ‘Let the idea lie around in your mind for a while and you may come eventually to appreciate its true worth.’
‘It has no true worth.’
‘We contend that it does.’
‘On what possible grounds?’
‘The archdeacon's special qualifications.’
‘And what are they?’
‘He is a Welsh churchman of some distinction and can talk to Gruffydd ap Cynan in their own language. Idwal is very much aware of the situation here and will do anything to prevent bloodshed in the city.’
‘Then why does he not quit Chester?’ murmured Hubert.
‘We need him to speak on our behalf.’
‘That is like asking Satan to speak on behalf of the Archangel Gabriel. It is an unnatural request. Idwal will turn it down summarily.’
‘On the contrary, he was a willing volunteer.’
Hubert gaped. ‘You asked him?’
‘No, he came to us with the idea,’ explained Frodo. ‘At first, we were very uneasy about the notion and I know that Bishop Robert still has lingering reservations, but the archdeacon does offer an option that is not found elsewhere. Gruffydd ap Cynan will talk openly to Idwal. He will respect the archdeacon, listen to him, respond to his advice.’
‘The only advice that Idwal will give him is that Wales must overrun England,’ said Hubert with muted disdain. ‘I find it incomprehensible that you could put your trust in a man whose special qualifications are no more than a gift for spreading discord,falsifying the history of Christianity in these islands and subduing his detractors with a mixture of aggression and crushing boredom.’
‘Try to discern the man’s virtues, Canon Hubert.’
‘He has none.’
‘Then how has he risen to a position of such eminence?’ Frodo gave a complacent smirk. ‘Only a man with remarkable qualities becomes an archdeacon.’
‘That may be true of England or Normandy – but Wales!’
‘I have a higher opinion than you of the Welsh Church.’
‘That would not be difficult.’
‘I have met Bishop Wilfrid of St David’s on more than one occasion and found him a man of real perception. He would not appoint an archdeacon lightly. Idwal has his faults – and we all know what they are – but the time has come to look beyond them to his true self.’
‘He is a Welsh patriot. That says all.’
‘And a devout Christian. Nobody can dispute that.’
‘I would.’
‘What do you have against him, Canon Hubert?’
‘The searing memory of his depredations in Herefordshire when we visited that county. His antics are burned into my mind for ever.’
‘Yet he helped to forestall open warfare.’
‘Is that what he told you?’
‘It is what others have confirmed, apparently. Your own colleagues, for instance. According to Brother Gerold, whose word I trust implicitly, Master Bret is more than ready to acknowledge Idwal’s contribution on that earlier occasion. Bishop Robert and I believe that he may be able to exert the same influence over Gruffydd ap Cynan.’
‘What use is that? The man is imprisoned.’
‘He remains a symbol for the people of Gwynedd,’ argued the other. ‘Even behind bars, his word carries immense weight. An order from their leader would compel the Welsh to cease hostilities at once.’
‘Idwal is more likely to condone such hostilities.’
‘And see his countrymen crushed once more by Earl Hugh?’ He shook his head. ‘No, Canon Hubert. He may be a patriot but he is also a realist. Barons from other parts of the county have been arriving at the castle all day with reinforcements. Earl Hugh is a mighty soldier in the field. Welsh blood will be spilled in vast quantities if he rides out with his army. Our contentious archdeacon knows that only too well.’
‘I still do not trust him.’
‘Overcome your prejudices.’
‘What is to stop him conniving with the Prince of Gwynedd behind our backs?’
‘The presence of an observer.’
‘Observer?’
‘Gervase Bret,’ said Frodo. ‘He speaks enough Welsh to understand what passes between the two men. Surely, you would put your faith in your young colleague?’
‘I would.’
‘Archdeacon Idwal and Gruffydd ap Cynan will not be able to conspire together while they are under such close scrutiny. Will this not content you, Canon Hubert?’
‘No.’
‘Would you rather risk the possibility of attack?’
‘Certainly not.’
‘Then why oppose the one way out of this dilemma?’
Hubert pondered. His breathing was normal and his face was no longer apoplectic. Archdeacon Frodo’s plausible tongue was a powerful weapon. It had even managed to weaken some of the canon’s objections to what he at first saw as a ludicrous suggestion. Gervase Bret’s presence in the scheme cast a whole new light on it.
‘What did Earl Hugh say to the idea?’ he wondered.
‘His mind is set on conflict.’
‘So the intercession of Idwal will not take place?’
‘Not as things stand,’ said Frodo honestly, ‘but we will continue to work on the earl. And on Brother Gerold. The chaplain has his master’s ear. If anyone can bring Earl Hugh around to our viewpoint, then he can.’
‘And in the meantime?’
‘We do what the Church has always done in emergencies.’
‘Watch and pray?’
‘Yes, Canon Hubert,’ said Frodo. ‘Watch closely and pray hard.God will surely hear our entreaties. Indeed, He may already have done so. Bishop Robert and I discussed the situation at great length. We begin to think that, in His mercy, the Almighty sent us Archdeacon Idwal as the saviour of the hour. His presence here at this time is so crucial that it can only be providential.’
Apoplexy again threatened to engulf Canon Hubert.
The long journey back did nothing to soften Ralph Delchard’s sense of grievance. When they entered the city again, he was still berating himself and his men for letting an old woman elude them so adroitly. Annoyance at one member of the Welsh nation spilled over into a general antipathy. In such a jaundiced mood,Ralph was ready to condemn anyone with even a remote connection with Wales. When he rode in through the castle gates with Gervase Bret and their escort, he was therefore less than overjoyed to be ambushed by a man who typified the whole country.
Archdeacon Idwal swooped on him like a giant bat.
‘I am glad to see you, my lord!’ he cried, as if he were the castellan himself and not merely an unwanted guest. ‘We must talk as a matter of urgency.’
Ralph was brusque. ‘As a matter of even greater urgency, we must not talk. Stand aside, Idwal.’
‘But I wish to see you.’
‘I have been seen. Farewell.’
Without another word, Ralph swung his horse towards the stables and moved swiftly away, leaving Idwal talking to himself.The escort followed their master but Gervase Bret dismounted to apologise to the stricken Welshman.
‘You will have to excuse his rudeness,’ he said.
‘Can such behaviour merit an excuse, Gervase?’
‘It has been a trying day.’
‘Civility costs nothing,’ said Idwal, wrapping his cloak around himself with dignity. ‘When I offer the hand of friendship, I do not expect to be spurned so.’
‘Pay no attention to it, Archdeacon Idwal.’
‘His dear wife would not treat me with such indifference. Golde remembers how I helped to bring the two of them together in Hereford. She is duly grateful.’ He shrugged off his irritation and stepped in to embrace Gervase. ‘But you may carry my message as easily as the lord Ralph. And it will be all the more appropriate coming from you, Gervase, since you are directly involved in the business.’
‘What business?’
‘Our proposed visit to Gruffydd a
p Cynan.’
‘Ours?’
‘You will be there to make sure we are hatching no dread plot against the Earl.’
‘Nevertheless, Earl Hugh will not let you near his prisoner.’
‘Work on him, Gervase.’
‘I will try.’
‘Convince him that I may be able to avert war.’
‘Earl Hugh may not want it averted.’
‘The rest of the city does,’ said Idwal with a dramatic sweep of his hand. ‘So does the Church. The cathedral is outside the city wall. That makes it very vulnerable.’
‘Would a God-fearing people like the Welsh really torch a beautiful cathedral?’
‘They would destroy anything they encountered, Gervase, making no distinctions at all. Such are the fortunes of war. That is why this fire must be extinguished before it gets out of control and burns all of us.’
He explained what he believed he could achieve through a conversation with Gruffydd ap Cynan and Gervase was impressed, promising to add his support to the plea already made to Earl Hugh by Bishop Robert and Archdeacon Frodo. What he could not do was to hold out any hope of success. He had seen enough of the earl to know that he was very much his own man, prone to make impulsive decisions from which nobody could move him.
Having secured Gervase's help on one matter, Idwal sought his assistance on another. He glanced across at the chapel.
‘Brother Gerold tells me that you are regular in your devotions,’ he recalled.
‘I try to be.’
‘It is to your credit,’ said Idwal. ‘I dare swear that the lord Ralph has yet to see the inside of the chapel.’
‘He is somewhat preoccupied. His wife has joined him.’
‘Then he should be on his knees to thank God for bringing her safely to Chester. These are perilous times in which to travel abroad.’ He lowered his voice. ‘What is your opinion of the chapel?’
‘It is much like any other I have seen in a castle.’
‘More ornate than most?’
‘Probably.’
‘More comfortable? More capacious?’
‘Both, Archdeacon Idwal.’
‘Earl Hugh has obviously spent money on his chapel.’
‘He has spiritual leanings.’
‘Does he?’ said Idwal, raising a mocking eyebrow. ‘Do you mean that he says grace before he boards his latest mistress? Virtue consists in abstaining from vice, not in atoning for it by building churches.’
‘Brother Gerold has put that argument to him.’
‘Not strongly enough.’
‘Gerold is making headway. Slowly, perhaps, but there has been progress. He is endeavouring to lead Earl Hugh along a less sinful path through life. That will take time.’
‘An eternity!’
‘Nobody is better fitted for the task.’
‘True,’ conceded the other. ‘Gerold has many of the attributes of a saint. It is a pity that he is not Welsh. But to return to the chapel. It is supremely well endowed.’
‘Earl Hugh is a wealthy man.’
‘And generous with that wealth, I am pleased to record.’
‘Gerold will endorse that.’
‘Did he show you round the chapel?’
‘Yes,’ said Gervase. ‘I am always interested to see what spiritual provision there is for a garrison. Chaplains usually bring a touch of humanity to a bleak community of soldiers.’
‘If only this community were bleak!’ complained Idwal, eyes rolling in disapproval. ‘But the earl’s generosity is not, alas, confined to the chapel. He appears to keep open house here. Drinking, gourmandising, hunting, hawking and whoring. Those seem to be the staple pastimes of Chester Castle. Strange conduct for a man who claims to be a personal friend of Anselm of Bee’
‘Earl Hugh has important military duties as well.’
‘As he has just been reminded.’
‘Very forcibly.’
Idwal angled himself so that he could see the chapel out of the corner of his eye. He flashed a disarming grin.
‘What did Gerold show you in the chapel?’ he said.
‘Everything.’
‘He took you into the vestry?’
‘Of course.’
‘And what did you see there, Gervase?’
‘Exactly what I expected to see.’
‘A reliquary, for instance?’
‘Yes,’ said Gervase. ‘It stood on a stout table.’
‘And did Brother Gerold reveal its contents to you?’ asked the other, excitement making his voice tremble slightly. ‘Did he open the reliquary?’
‘No, Archeacon Idwal. We were already late for the banquet.’
‘But he gave you to understand that something of great value was locked away inside it?’
‘Why else have a reliquary?’
‘Precisely!’
‘Brother Gerold invited me to view its contents another time. I will certainly avail myself of that invitation.’
‘Then we must talk further on the subject.’ Idwal gave a short, high laugh then composed his features into a frown of concentration, but Gervase could see the sparkle in the Welshman’s eyes. What did it portend? Border warfare was threatening, movement to and from the city was severely restricted, panic was settling in everywhere. On top of that, Idwal had just been snubbed by Ralph Delchard. Yet the man was exuding delight. Behind the serious frown, Gervase sensed that the archdeacon was chuckling quietly to himself.
In the circumstances, it was a small miracle.
By the time she finally reached the cottage, the old woman was staggering from fatigue. Her face was drawn, her body slack, and her clothes were covered with dirt. Raked by thorns, both hands had rivulets of dried blood on them. She was so exhausted that she had no strength even to speak at first.
Surprised and alarmed to see her, Eiluned took her by the arms and lowered her gently to the floor before fetching a cup of water to hold to her parched lips. The old woman swallowed the liquid eagerly and nodded her thanks. Eiluned’s home was an abandoned hovel in the north-west part of the forest. It was falling to pieces but its vestigial roof offered a fair amount of shelter and the two surviving walls gave her good protection from the wind. It made the old woman’s own home seem almost palatial but Eiluned had no complaints about her accommodation. It was essentially temporary.
While her visitor recovered, Eiluned scouted the area to make sure that she had not been followed to the refuge. When she was certain that the old woman had come alone, she went back to kneel beside her and cradle her head in her lap. Dabbing a rag into the pail of water, she used it to mop the still perspiring brow.
‘What happened?’ she asked.
‘They came looking,’ said the old woman.
‘Who did?’
‘Soldiers.’
‘What did they want?’
‘To know about you.’
Eiluned stiffened. ‘Is this true?’
‘Yes. They asked me who was weaving a basket with me the day of the stag hunt.’
‘What did you tell them?’
‘As little as possible.’
‘Good.’
‘One of them spoke Welsh. He questioned me closely.’
‘How did you get away?’
‘By a ruse,’ said the old woman with a tired smile. ‘I told them you had left the bow and arrow in my cottage and I went to fetch it. While they were talking outside, I slipped out by a little door at the rear then hid in the forest until they called off the search.’
‘Where did you hide?’
‘Under some brambles.’
‘It must have been very painful.’
‘I could not allow them to catch me, Eiluned. I would put up with anything rather than let that happen.’ She looked up with a pathetic need for approval. ‘Did I do right?’
‘Yes.’
‘You are sure?’
‘We are proud of you.’
‘They knew too much, Eiluned.’
‘But how? That is what I cann
ot understand.’ The younger woman shook her head in anxiety. ‘We took such pains to avoid detection. What put them on to me?’
‘A lucky guess?’
‘No, it was more than that. If they came all the way out from Chester to interrogate you, they must have had strong suspicions. Thank goodness you had the wit to escape.’
‘I could not let you down, Eiluned.’
‘You are a heroine.’
‘No,’ insisted the other, ‘you are the real heroine. You rid us of that ogre, Raoul Lambert. I lived on his property and I know what a pig he could be to people like me. You rescued us from him. I’ll never forget that. I owe you a big debt.’
‘It was more than repaid today.’
‘I had to get to you, Eiluned.’
‘And you did.’
‘Warn her – that’s what I kept telling myself. You must get to her today and warn her.’ The old woman went off into a fit of coughing and Eiluned poured fresh water for her. ‘I am sorry,’ said the other, after meekly sipping from the cup. ‘I am too old to walk such distances now.’
‘You got here. That is all that matters.’
‘Yes.’ She looked up. ‘Will you take care of me, Eiluned?’
‘Take care?’
‘How can I go back to my own home?’
‘I had not thought of that.’
‘They drove me out. If I try to return, they will catch me and punish me cruelly. My body could not stand that.’
‘It will not have to, I promise.’
The old woman squeezed her arm. ‘I knew that I could rely on you, Eiluned. You are so like my daughter. She would have looked after me if she had lived, but … it was not to be. But you will save me, won’t you? I’ll be no trouble to you.’
‘Just rest,’ soothed Eiluned, stroking her hair with gentle fingers. ‘Have no fears for the future. Just rest. If they found you, then they must have worked out that I was the assassin. No matter. We will not be here long enough for them to find us. In a couple of days, it will all be over and we can go across the border to Wales again. To live in freedom among our own people. Would you like that?’
The old woman’s eyes were now shut and she seemed to be dozing peacefully, but her head felt strangely heavier in Eiluned’s lap. Bending over her, she saw that her guest had quietly expired. The flight from her home had pushed her beyond the limits of endurance. However, there was one tiny consolation. As Eiluned gently laid the head down, she saw that there was a contented smile on the woman’s face.
The Hawks of Delamere (Domesday Series Book 7) Page 17