‘Hubert is in Chester on important business.’
‘So am I, believe me. So am I.’
Idwal flung back his cloak and went off towards the main door of the cathedral with an arrogant strut. Bishop Robert found an expletive rising to his lips and clapped a hand over his mouth. The laws of Christian fellowship had to be obeyed.
The Welshman, meanwhile, walked slowly down the nave of the cathedral to make sure that he was quite alone. When he stopped under the chancel arch, he could hear and see nobody. Evening shadows dappled the aisle behind him and darkened the outer corners of the building. Idwal smirked. He was on his own in the house of the Lord.
After genuflecting to the altar, he moved swiftly across to the door of the vestry and lifted the latch. A single candle burned within and cast an inviting glow over a large wooden casket which stood against the wall. Idwal rubbed his hands together and went over to the casket, stroking its weathered lid with an almost paternal affection. There was a key in the lock and he turned it firmly.
Before he could lift the lid, however, someone came out of the gloom behind him to subject him to an accusatory glare.
‘What are you looking for, archdeacon?’ asked Frodo.
Idwal was unperturbed. He patted the casket gently.
‘God,’ he said.
Chapter Seven
Brother Gerold was an accomplished horseman. As they rode back to Chester in the fading light, Gervase was highly impressed with the way that his companion handled his mount. Canon Hubert invariably travelled on his donkey, his bulk dwarfing the beast and his feet all but touching the ground. Brother Simon always rode his spindly horse with excessive nervousness as if it was the first time he had ever been near the animal. It was refreshing to find one Benedictine monk who was patently at ease in the saddle.
When they joined the main road to the city, they were riding at a steady canter. The great, dark, sprawling Forest of Delamere slowly receded behind them.
‘Thank you for taking me there,’ he said.
‘It was you who took me, Gervase.’
‘I would never have found my way without you.’
‘I was glad to help,’ said the other. ‘When two young people are in such distress as Gytha and Beollan, they need all the succour they can get.’
‘How will they manage?’
‘Who knows? But they will somehow.’
‘Will they?’
‘Yes, Gervase. They are forest dwellers. Survivors.
‘Their father and brother were forest dwellers as well. They did not survive. They were the victims of misfortune.’
‘So it seems.’
‘They violated forest law but they did not deserve the treatment which was handed out to them.’
‘No man deserves to suffer that butchery.’
Gervase forbore to point out that it was the chaplain’s master who had been responsible for the summary execution of the two men. Brother Gerald’s position at the castle made for a slight awkwardness between them. While he had shown great compassion to two young people in a dire situation, his loyalty was owed to Earl Hugh. In. the circumstances, Gervase found it very difficult to express himself as freely as he would have wished. He chafed in silence.
Brother Gerald seemed to read his mind. Glancing across at Gervase, he nodded sadly.
‘Earl Hugh can be harsh at times,’ he admitted.
‘This went beyond the bounds of harshness.’
‘He realises that now.’
Gervase was surprised. ‘Does he?’
‘I believe so.’
‘Do you have any proof of that, Brother Gerald.’
‘Not in the sense that you would understand it,’ replied Brother Gerald. ‘But I am closer to the earl than anyone. I will not betray the secrets of the confessional but this I can tell you. Earl Hugh is no stranger to feelings of contrition.’
‘Such feelings come rather late in the day.’
‘Granted.’
‘Two men died because of his anger.’
‘He is learning to control it.’
‘How many others have been victims of his rage?’
‘I am his chaplain and not his keeper, Gervase. There are some areas of his life in which I have no right to interfere. Earl Hugh is a fearless soldier and brutal action is sometimes necessary in combat. He would not have established peace on the frontier if he had not been such a forceful commander.’
‘Are you trying to excuse him, Brother Gerold?’
‘No,’ said the other. ‘I merely point out that he has been forced to behave with a degree of savagery by the situation in which he finds himself. The same might be said of the King himself. What you call rage is often no more than a soldier’s bold response to danger.’
‘That was not the case yesterday.’
‘Perhaps not.’
‘You saw those bodies,’ Gervase reminded him. ‘Those men were not assassins who threatened his life. They were simple souls whose only concern was to provide food for their family. Hanging them was a barbaric enough punishment. Why did they have to be mutilated in that way?’
‘It was reprehensible.’
‘Supposing that Gytha or her brother had found the bodies in that state? What effect would it have had on them?’
‘A disastrous one.’
‘Their lives have been shattered as it is,’ said Gervase. ‘Think how much worse it would be for them if they had to carry such gruesome memories inside their minds for the rest of their days. It would be unbearable.’
‘You were right to cover the bodies, Gervase.’
‘I could not disguise the fact that they were dead.’
‘Or the cause of that death.’
‘Yet you claim that Earl Hugh is contrite?’
‘I say that he is not as uncaring as he may appear. Yes,’ Brother Gerold added with a wry smile, ‘I know I am trying to defend what you consider to be indefensible but there has been marked progress. Earl Hugh is a God-fearing man. That may not always be the face which he offers to the world but it is there.’
It was an extraordinary claim to make. Gervase suppressed the cynical comment which rose to mind and spoke instead in a judiciously neutral tone.
‘I will have to take your word for it.’
‘You may see direct evidence in time.’
‘I am bound to doubt that.’
‘In your position, I would feel the same.’
‘My position imposes certain limitations on me.’
‘Limitations?’
‘Earl Hugh is our host,’ said Gervase apologetically. ‘It is not really my place to accuse him.’
‘Those two dead bodies were an accusation in themselves. I sympathise with your feelings and admire your restraint. Do not worry, Gervase,’ said the chaplain, turning to look at him. ‘I will not carry tales back to the castle.’
‘I never thought that you would, Brother Gerold.’
They rode on in silence for a while. When the city finally came in sight, the chaplain was jerked out of his meditations, and fished gently for enlightenment.
‘What did he tell you?’ he asked.
‘Who?’
‘Beollan.’
‘Very little.’
‘I saw you take him behind that tree to talk in private. The boy knew far more than he pretended. Did you contrive to draw any of it out of him?’
‘I need more time to win his confidence.’
‘I think you did that extremely well, Gervase. Come,’ he said in an almost jocular tone. ‘There is no need for you to protect the boy. I will not harm him.’
‘I never thought that you would.’
‘Do you fear that I might betray him to Earl Hugh?’
‘No, Brother Gerold.’
‘Then why hide from me what I can already guess?’
‘And what is that?’
‘Beollan was involved,’ said the other. ‘When his father and brother went poaching, they probably took him along as their lookout. That is wh
at the boy strove to conceal: the fact that he was there yesterday.’
‘He should have been there,’ said Gervase.
‘But?’
‘He became scared and ran away.’
‘Who could blame him for that?’
‘He blames himself, Brother Gerold.’
‘Did you assuage his guilt?’
‘Only partially.’
‘What else did he tell you?’
Gervase hesitated for a moment then plunged straight in. ‘He saw someone else sneaking away from the scene.’
‘An archer?’
‘Yes. The one thing he does remember is the bow.’
‘Did he describe the man?’
‘He barely got a glimpse.’
‘But he saw enough to exonerate his father and brother. They would never have been so foolish or audacious as to kill Earl Hugh’s favourite hawk. He doted on that bird.’
‘He made that clear.’
‘Two human lives are not a fair exchange for the death of a hawk. Especially when the two men in question were innocent of the charge. They paid dearly for someone else’s crime.’ He became brisk. ‘I will not divulge this intelligence to Earl Hugh. He would immediately send for Beollan to question him more rigorously and the boy would not withstand such scrutiny. It would be wrong to subject him to it. Beollan is quite safe. Tell him that.’
‘Tell him?’
‘When you next visit their cottage.’
‘I have no plans to do so, Brother Gerold.’
‘Oh, I think you have.’
Gervase blushed. The chaplain had read his mind again.
Ralph Delchard left Earl Hugh still brooding in the hall and made his way down to the bailey. Torches had been lit to ward off the dusk and there was a smell of acrid smoke. His men were lodged in some of the huts used by the garrison and Ralph sought out his captain to discuss a number of matters with him. Some of the men were leaving the castle in search of pleasure in one of the city’s many inns. Ralph waved them off. In earlier days he might have gone with them, but marriage had mercifully ended that rudderless period of his existence when he was hopelessly adrift. Golde had given him a purpose in life. It was one of the many things for which he was indebted to her.
When he found his captain, they needed only a few minutes to complete their business. The man had overheard the gossip from soldiers who had accompanied the hunting party that morning and Ralph listened to it with keen ears. He was given a slightly different perspective on events from the one which the earl himself had provided, though the central facts did not alter. Everyone believed that the assassin’s arrow had been destined for Hugh d’Avranches.
Ralph was making his way back across the courtyard when a strident voice hailed him from behind.
‘My lord! My lord!’
Recognising the voice, Ralph quickened his pace at once.
‘Wait for me!’ howled Idwal. ‘My lord!’
Ralph tried to ignore him but the Welshman would not be denied. Breaking into a trot, he overhauled the other and stood directly in front of him with a broad grin.
‘Do you remember me, my lord?’ he asked.
‘Only too well!’
‘Idwal, Archdeacon of St David’s.’
‘You were at Llandaff when we last met.’
‘I have been called to a higher authority.’
‘Then do not let me hold you up,’ said Ralph, trying to push past him and finding his arm seized in a strong grip. ‘What are you doing, man? Release me at once.’
‘Only when you agree to help me, my lord.’
‘Help you?’
‘In the name of friendship.’ Idwal let go of Ralph’s arm and grinned inanely. ‘There – I knew that you would agree.’
‘I have agreed to nothing.’
‘All I ask from you is one little favour.’
‘There is one big favour I would ask of you, Idwal.’
The archdeacon cackled. ‘You still have your sense of humour, I see. Diu! It is good to see you again after all this time. I have already met Canon Hubert and Brother Simon. They could not believe their good fortune when I popped up in front of them. Is Gervase with you still?’
‘Yes.’
‘A studious young man. I admire him tremendously.’
‘So do I.’
‘As much as a Welshman can admire a foreigner, that is.’ A sly smile touched his lips. ‘While we are on the topic of admiration, my lord, what happened to that charming lady whom we met in Hereford? What was her name?’
‘Golde,’ said Ralph.
‘That was it. Golde. A woman of independence.’ The smile spread itself. ‘Though I suspect that she may no longer enjoy quite so much independence.’
‘She is now my wife.’
Idwal clapped his hands. ‘I knew it! I saw the first stirrings of interest on both sides. I sensed that there was a deep bond between you. I am never wrong about such things. Praise the Lord! These are wonderful tidings! You have my warmest congratulations, my lord.’
‘Thank you,’ said Ralph uncomfortably.
‘I know what it is to enjoy connubial bliss.’
Ralph refused to accept that Idwal’s wife would say the same.
‘My only regret is that this romance did not burgeon in Hereford itself. Then I could have had the privilege of joining you and Golde in holy matrimony.’
Ralph was appalled at the suggestion. Instead of blessing their union, the garrulous archdeacon would have put a curse upon it. He became brusque.
‘You spoke of a favour.’
‘Yes, my lord,’ said the other conspiratorially. ‘It concerns Hugh,Earl of Chester.’
‘In what way?’
‘He refuses to speak to me.’
‘I can understand why,’ muttered Ralph.
‘He will not even admit me to his presence and it is vital that I see him as soon as possible. I need his permission to speak with the prisoner.’
‘Gruffydd ap Cynan?’
‘The same, my lord,’ said Idwal, suddenly frothing with righteous indignation. ‘Apart from anything else, I wish to protest against the irreverent treatment of the Prince of Gwynedd. Royal bipod flows in his veins. Yet he is kept in a dungeon like a wild animal in a cage.’
‘He is held hostage, Idwal.’
‘That does not mean he has to be so abused.’
‘How do you know that he is?’
‘There is little that affects a Welsh prince that I do not learn about sooner or later. Please, my lord. Speak on my behalf to Earl Hugh. Plead our case. All I am asking is an hour alone with Gruffydd ap Cynan.’
‘Then you ask in vain.’
‘Why?’
‘He would never leave you alone with a prisoner,’ said Ralph. No more would I or anyone else who exercised simple caution.Any visit would be carefully supervised. If you were left alone with Gruffydd ap Cynan, you might supply him with a weapon or plot his escape.’
Idwal was shocked. ‘Would I do either of those things?’
‘Given the opportunity, you would do both.’
‘Calumny!’
‘Common sense!’
‘I am a man of honour.’
‘The word has a wholly different meaning in that gibbering nonsense you call the Welsh language.’
‘Gibbering nonsense!’ Idwal was outraged. ‘Welsh is an ancient and beautiful language, my lord. Our word for honour is anrhydedd and it carries great significance in my country. It stands for integrity, for allegiance to moral principles. Celts are the most honourable people on earth.’
‘That would not stop you trying to rescue the prisoner.’
‘It would never cross my mind.’
‘Why else go to see him?’
‘To talk to him, comfort him, pass on messages of support.’
‘And take out orders for members of his army.’
‘Never, my lord.’
‘You are wasting your time, Idwal.’
‘Then you will not act as my am
bassador?’
‘There is no point,’ explained Ralph. ‘Earl Hugh does not look favourably upon the Welsh nation at any time but, at this precise moment, he is more prejudiced against it than ever. When he was hunting in the forest this morning, someone fired an arrow which only just missed him. He believes that the would-be assassin was a Welshman.’
Idwal’s ears pricked up. ‘Was the earl injured?’
‘Not physically. But his pride was badly lacerated. He is certainly in no mood to grant favours to anyone from across the border. My advice would be to delay your request until he has calmed down again.’
‘Sage counsel. I’ll obey it.’
‘Then I can be excused.’
‘Not so fast, my lord,’ said Idwal, plucking at his sleeve. ‘Our paths have not crossed for such a long time. I would like to know what has befallen you since we parted in Hereford. Apart from your fortunate marriage, that is. And you, I am sure, are anxious to hear my news.’
‘I dream of nothing else,’ said Ralph sardonically.
Idwal beamed. ‘In that case, I’ll begin …’
‘Another time.’
And Ralph fled the field like the most craven deserter.
Darkness was starting to fall with more conviction by the time they reached the castle and they needed the help of the flaming torches to pick their way across to the stables. Ostlers took charge of their horses. They stretched themselves to ease their aching limbs. As he walked across the bailey with the chaplain, Gervase Bret had to stifle a yawn.
‘Thank you again, Brother Gerold,’ he said.
‘I was glad to be of assistance,’ said the other. ‘And it was a pleasure to see Father Ernwin again, albeit in such sad circumstances. He will sustain Gytha and Beollan through this desperate period.’
‘And the bodies will be buried in consecrated ground.’
‘Father Ernwin gave us his word.’
‘I was much reassured after speaking with him.’
‘He will know what to do.’
Gerold came to a halt near a torch and studied his companion’s umbered face with shrewd eyes. Gervase became slightly selfconscious.
‘What is the matter?’ he said.
The Hawks of Delamere Page 9
