In the morning, he decided that he would move on southwards for some way, at least, to try to ascertain strengths and numbers and positions of the enemy. He wished Prior Ralph and his monks very well and hoped that he would be able to see them again, possibly quite soon. He would, for himself, endeavour to practise forgiveness, as far as he could — but it was not simple for a man bearing rule and authority, especially the commander of an army.
About five miles south of Pennant-Bach wy, on rapidly-rising ground now, and the side valley of Glyntrefnant coming in on the east, they learned something of what was meant by Gruffydd's redoubt area. The country grew wilder, more savage, with naked rock, cliffs and harsh screes predominating. And water everywhere, cataracts and falls, dark pools and tarns, lakes innumerable amidst treacherous bogs. It was, in fact, a great amphitheatre, a wide basin of the mountains, a sump of waters draining from the heights all around, out of which the infant Severn rose. And it was rimmed by rock walls on every hand, as far as could be discerned, the only access by the narrow river gorges and chasms, where half-a-dozen determined men could hold up a thousand. And that these gorges and ravines were manned was evident. It would be a bold commander indeed who assaulted that natural fortress, under any circumstances.
David sent out scouting parties to prospect as much of the area as they could. All came back with the same story. The place was impregnable.
Thoughtful, yet in some measure reassured, David turned back. Somehow he did not think that Henry was the man to be prepared for most bloody battle here. He would return to Pennant-Bachwy and send Henry and the others a full report from there. In fact, he might even go and try to see Henry himself - after all he could not be more than fifteen or twenty miles away.
But at the monastery that evening, they found disaster. A party of Chester's Normans, straying from their route, had come that way after David's people had left; and decided that a half-sacked monastery of foreigners was something not to be considered. They had completed, with greater thoroughness, what the Welshmen had left undone, with a callous savagery unequalled, even slaying one of the lay-brothers who, less disciplined than the monks themselves, had protested. They had taken all the remaining church furniture and the simple plenishings of the dormitory and refectory, even the rough blankets, and set them on fire in the chapel itself, and thrown the body of the lay-brother on top, forcing the others to watch. They had moved on south-eastwards.
David was at a loss for words. What was there to be said? He blamed himself for not having left a guard. How could he have guessed?
But if words were totally inadequate, there was something that he could do, at least. On impulse, he told Prior Ralph that he and his remaining people were now in his, David's care and protection. He would, if they would come, take them back to Caer-luel with him and give them lands for a new monastery. In Cumbria or in Scotland. He would see, too, that they had all that they required, moneys too, to replace in some measure what they had lost. It would not be the same, but perhaps, in time, they might serve their Order even better.
It was Brother Ralph's turn to be at a loss for words, too overcome with emotion to speak.
Leaving the Viscount Richard in command at Pennant-Bachwy, next morning, with only a few friends and a small escort, David rode eastwards. Whether he would come up with the offending Norman force, which had allegedly gone this way, he did not know - he almost hoped not, fearing what he might be inclined to do in retribution, whatever Bernard's teachings. His objectives were otherwise - first to find Alexander, and then Henry.
All the way, around the skirts of the hills, they were passing groups and sections of their own and the Scots force, these advancing more slowly over country less easy than the Twymyn valley. After some eight miles they found the King of Scots in another but lesser valley, almost parallel with their own, and in excellent spirits. The day before, he had come across and soundly defeated a Welsh contingent - not a very large one, it transpired. He and his people were eating well, with large numbers of cattle and sheep on all the upland pastures for the taking, and almost a holiday atmosphere prevailed. Alexander was not greatly interested in the Pennant monastery situation, but became adequately concerned when he heard David's description of the Clywedog stronghold area. He agreed entirely that open and straightforward assault was not to be considered. Whether a starvation policy was practical sounded doubtful. After all, with all the cattle and sheep available in these foothills, the Welsh could drive flocks into this redoubt area to be slaughtered as necessary.
Alexander decided to accompany his brother to discuss the position with Henry. Latest reports put him still at Mur-Castell in the upper Severn valley between Llandinan and Llanidloes, about a dozen miles almost due southwards. He did not appear to be advancing.
It took them well into the evening to reach this Mur-Castell, one of Gruffydd's own houses, the nearest to his mountain fastness, itself something of an eagle's-nest of a place. Here they found little of the atmosphere of an armed camp, rather that of a relaxed celebration and carefree ease. Henry gave the impression of being more or less established here, his troops comfortably settled in the June sunshine.
They were greeted warmly, their brother-in-law revealing no evident embarrassment at their meeting with the lady who was most clearly sharing his campaigning couch, a nubile young person of very obvious charms. Jovial, untroubled, Henry seemed to find the problems and anxieties of war far from pressing. Indeed, his first explicit remarks to David were such as to remove thoughts of war from that young man also.
"I have news for you - which I think will perhaps cause you to weep no tears, David. Although you might conceivably lose a little sleep! Simon de St. Liz is dead."
"St. Liz! Earl Simon - dead?" David's voice went husky. He swallowed. "Matilda's . . . husband?"
"The same. I see that you take the point, without delay!"
"He ... he took the Cross. Went on Crusade . . .?"
"Yes, the more fool him! An old man, and crippled. Worse, he went twice. First, two years ago. He reached the Holy Land, took fever, and was brought home to be nursed by his long-suffering wife. But he was off again - God knows why! Think you that he found little to detain him at home, little family joy? I have heard, but recently, that he died at Charte. So - now I am three earls short in this realm of mine."
"Three . . .?
"To be sure. Northampton, Huntingdon and Northumbria. Matilda claims Northumbria in right of her father, the unfortunate Waltheof."
"M'mm. Cospatrick would claim Northumbria before Waltheof."
"No doubt. But Waltheof’s was a Norman earldom, Cospatrick's only a Saxon!"
David was not really concerned at that moment to argue Cospatrick's claims. His head was in a whirl, although he sought not to show it. Matilda! A free woman . . . !
Henry eyed him keenly, knowingly, grinning. "We must see that my great-niece is well protected from adventurers, eh David? With all those earldoms. She will be the target for many a drawn bow!"
"Yes."
"Ambitious men will be round her like flies! I shall have to give her good advice . . ."
Only a king might interrupt a king, and Alexander, impatient, did just that. "We came here to debate war strategy, not widows!" he said. "What do we do? We marched far, to aid you. And now find you . . . scarcely warlike!"
"What would you have, cousin? Marching to and fro? Trumpets sounding? Banners awave? Shall I stage a tournament?"
Alexander scowled. "I did not come all this way from Scotland for tournaments and show. You asked for an army. To do what? Fight, whilst you feast?"
Henry looked at David "I think that your royal brother must be hungry!" he suggested. "They say that a hungry man is an angry man. Come and eat . . ."
"I shall eat the better knowing what Your Grace plans for this campaign - if such it is!"
"Very well. Campaign it is - but not, I hope, a slaughter. If I seem to be waging war against Gruffydd ap Cynan, that is well. But my main foe is not th
e Welshman, but Robert de Belleme of Shrewsbury and his brothers of Pembroke and Lancaster. These are the true dangers to my realm, not the Welsh. But I do not seek to launch civil war upon England. From civil war, none gain. Norman fighting Norman is a sorry spectacle. So I seem to proceed against my Welsh rebels - which none may object to. But in doing so, I bring overwhelming strength to bear all around the real enemy."
"So we are not here to fight the Welsh? But the Montgomery brothers?"
"I hope to fight neither, man! See you, I have over sixty thousand men in arms, and marshalled around and between the Montgomery brothers' power- who, I think, cannot muster ten thousand, without Welsh aid. Seeming to threaten Gruffydd - but ready to turn elsewhere. We are but thirty miles here, from de Belleme's Shrewsbury. I have another army sitting at Ludlow, between him and Pembroke - which has Richard de Clare and his Cornishmen behind them. Your own and Chester's forces cut off Lancaster, should he think to move. We have the Montgomery's hamstrung!"
The other two stared at him, as the size and complexity of this planning dawned upon them. David, in especial, was admiring.
"And the Welsh?" Alexander demanded.
"The Welsh we must handle delicately. They are surrounded, rather than divided. They have, as I knew they would, withdrawn into their mountain hold yonder. We cannot prise them out, save at great cost. It is a place scarcely assailable."
"Yes - so I judged," David agreed. "I went forward, from Pennant, to inspect what I could of it. I perceived no way of gaining entry, without enormous losses. That is what I came to tell you."
"I have been forward also — and came to the same conclusion. So - I have summoned Gruffydd to meet me. To talk terms. But he is stubborn. He will not. Will not come out. Nor speak with me."
"Perhaps he does not trust you!" Alexander said cynically.
"Perhaps. I think he believes that to come to me would have him seem to accept me as overlord. Yet I cannot go to him, in his fastness."
"You might wait here for long. Before he starves."
"True - although there is time enough. I am sufficiently comfortable here — more so than he will be. And the longer we sit thus, the more troubled will be the Montgomerys. But, see you - your coming is apt. For I had thought to send to you. It may be that you could achieve what I cannot. Gruffydd may talk with you where he would not with me. Fellow-Celts. The King of Scots and his brother. No Normans."
"And what would we have to say to him?" Alexander wondered.
"Sufficient for any reasonable man. But - come to table. I shall tell you as you eat and drink . . ."
Thereafter they learned that Henry was indeed prepared to be reasonable towards the Welsh. His terms were almost generous. In return for an undertaking to indulge in no more risings and revolts, the King would repeal much of the crushing taxation and onerous forest laws which had been in force in Wales since the Conqueror's time. He would promise to curb the Marcher Earl's powers — one of the principal causes of revolt - and be glad to do so, since the Montgomery brothers were typical of that arrogant breed. He would release all prisoners and hostages held on account of rebellion - as distinct from civil felonies. And he would accept Gruffydd's status as that of independent prince in all save the renewal of the coronation oath of fealty - which he had already taken — on some date to be mutually chosen. There was surely little here that Gruffydd would find impossible to swallow? With the understanding, of course, that the Welsh would no longer allow themselves to be used by the Montgomerys as sticks with which to beat the King.
The Scots brothers could find no real fault with all of this, and agreed to attempt a meeting with the Prince of Gwynedd, and to try to persuade him. David said that surely they might be hopeful, for had not Gruffydd shown himself to be a Godfearing and upright man, by bringing a Tironensian monastery to his domains? When there was none such even in England? Henry reserved judgment on that.
David went on to tell them of the shameful happenings at Pennant-Bachwy — and was distressed, almost angered, at the lack of response and concern evinced by his royal hearers. Almost defiantly he announced that he was going to take the maltreated monks back with him to the North, there to found a new monastery or abbey, where the noble Bernard's precepts could be practised in peace and security.
His brother and brother-in-law took that less than seriously, Alexander indicating that David would get over it, and not to let his soft heart rule his quite sound wits; and Henry suggesting that he would require a lot more riches than he could deploy at present before he started to endow abbeys. Perhaps, of course, he had a notion to marry riches?
David hotly denied this, asserting however that he would find a way.
Henry said, bring him back an accommodation with Gruffydd ap Cynan, and he would have a sufficiency to found his monastery - that he promised.
* * *
Of all things, it was the Prior Ralph who acted the essential go-between, volunteering for the task whenever he heard of the project, insisting no doubt accurately, that he was the best man to go to convince Gruffydd that he should meet the Prince David and the King of Scots. As a single simple wandering friar he would get through the Welsh lines and defences at the Clywedog gorges. Gruffydd would listen to him.
So they let him go, astonished at his courage and resolution, in view of the injuries done to him and his. He refused a horse or any sort of escort, probably wisely.
He returned in two days time. Gruffydd, King of Wales, sent his greeting: and was prepared to grant audience to Alexander, King of Scots, and David, Prince of Strathclyde, at noon of the following day, the Eve of St. Barnabus, at Dylife, midway between Pennant-Bachwy and his redoubt area. Each side would bring no more than a score of men as escort. Ralph said that he had not been too difficult to persuade, once he reached him, the problem having been to get past his lieutenants.
The Welshman's message certainly did not sound like that of a desperate fugitive. David was encouraged, but Alexander disturbed over the phrasing, this of the man granting audience - an intolerable arrogance- Gruffydd presuming to call himself King of Wales, and David Prince of Strathclyde. His brother saw these matters as unimportant, mere mistranslations in terminology from the Welsh language, no doubt.
Next morning the small party climbed the steep track up the narrow gorge to the sharp bend of the Tywmyn, where they had to pass a notable waterfall thundering down in foam and spray. Above this they came, after a couple of miles, to the abandoned upland homestead of hutments, called Dylife, the prior leading them. There they found the Welsh group already in position and waiting, looking wary, suspicious, dark and wiry men, roughly garbed. Gruffydd ap Cynan stood out as much the oldest, now in his early fifties, greying but still lithe, with a broad brow, large nose and sensitive mouth. He wore the golden circlet of kingship around those brows.
Saluting with upraised hand, Brother Ralph called, "Highness - here is His Grace Alexander, King of Scots, and my lord David of Cumbria, come to speak with you."
Alexander frowned. He would have preferred the Welshman to be introduced to him, as monarch.
"Alexander mac Malcolm and David mac Malcolm - greetings," the other said. "I am Gruffydd ap Cynan. I can hardly give you welcome, since you appear in my realm in armed force. But I greet you, at least, as namely." He had his people's pleasing, soft, sing-song intonation.
It was unfortunate that protocol required that David should let Alexander speak first.
"We are here, sir, at the request of the lawful sovereign lord of this realm," his brother said. "Not otherwise."
"Ha! Do I hear aright? Have you then, Alexander mac Malcolm, become a vassal of Henry fitz William, Highness?"
"Not so - by God, I have not! He is but my good-brother
"My lord Gruffydd," David put in, a little hurriedly. "We come on a mission of goodwill. We know of your prowess, and admire. I have long wished to know you. In especial, since I learned of your bringing of the Tironensians to Wales. A noble gesture." He hoped that did not so
und as though coming in too much of a rush.
The older man eyed them both thoughtfully. "Two voices," he said quietly. "Do they speak the same message?"
"We bring you Henry's terms," Alexander declared flatly.
"Suggestions," David amended. "Which we believe reasonable — or we would not have brought them."
"I am glad that we are to be reasonable!"
"Yes. Henry Beauclerc is not like his brother William. Nor yet such as his father. He is a man of honest purpose."
"And for me, and Wales, my lords, he honestly purposes -what?"
"Must we sit ahorse and discuss this like strangers passing on the road!" Alexander asked.
"First I must know if there is anything to discuss, Your Grace."
"Would we come, otherwise, man?"
"There are five heads, Prince Gruffydd," David said. "King Henry offers these. That he will repeal the excessive taxation and forest laws, as respects Wales. He will curb the Marcher Earls in their inroads upon your land. He will release all prisoners and hostages held for rebellion. He will accept your status as independent prince in all save a renewal of your coronation oath, at some future date to be chosen."
"And the fifth?
"The fifth is that you will undertake to make no further armed uprisings against his peace, on or beyond the Welsh Marches. That is all."
"Why should I agree to this?"
"Because it is to your advantage," Alexander asserted. "And Henry and I have sixty thousand men surrounding you!"
"Ah. Yet with all these, Henry Beauclerc still deems it prudent to offer me these reasonable terms? Why, think you, my lords?"
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