Brother Cadfael 01: A Morbid Taste for Bones

act of his, nor need he enquire too closely what Huw might have to say on his behalf. "Very well, do so, and I hope you may succeed."
    "It would be a mark of your status, and the importance of this gesture," suggested Cadfael with an earnest face, "if your messengers went mounted. It's not yet dark, and the horses would be better for exercise."
    "True," said the prior, mildly gratified. "It would be in keeping with our dignity and lend weight to our errand. Very well, let Brother John bring the horses."
    "Now that's that I call a friend!" said Brother John heartily, when they were all three in the saddle, and safely away into the early dusk under the trees, Father Huw and John on the two tall horses, Brother Cadfael on the best of the mules. "Ten more minutes, and I should have earned myself a penance that would have lasted a month or more, and now here we are in the best company around, on a decent errand, and enjoying the quiet of the evening."
    "Did I ever say word of your coming with us?" said Cadfael slyly. "I said the horses would add lustre to the embassage, I never went so far as to say you would add any."
    "I go with the horses. Did you ever hear of an ambassador riding without a groom? I'll keep well out of the way while you confer, and play the dutiful servant. And by the by, Bened will be doing his drinking up there at the hall tonight. They go the rounds, and it's Cai's turn."
    "And how did you learn so much," wondered Cadfael, "without a word of Welsh?"
    "Oh, they knock their meaning into me somehow, and I into them. Besides, I have several words of Welsh already, and if we're held up here for a while I shall soon learn a great many more, if I can get my tongue round them. I could learn the smith's art, too. I lent him a hand at the forge this morning."
    "You're honoured. In Wales not everyone can be a smith."
    Huw indicated the fence that had begun to run alongside them on the right. "Cadwallon's holding. We have a mile of forest to go yet to Rhisiart's hall."
    It was still no more than dusk when they emerged into a large clearing, with ploughed and planted strips surrounding a long stockade fence. The smell of wood-smoke drifted on the air, and glimmer of torches lit the open doorway of the hall. Stables and barns and folds clung to the inner side of the fence, and men and women moved briskly about the evening business of a considerable household.
    "Well, well!" said the voice of Cai the ploughman, from a bench under the eaves of one of the byres. "So you've found your way by nose to where the mead is tonight, Brother Cadfael." And he moved up obligingly to make room, shoulder to shoulder with Bened. "Padrig's making music within, and from all I hear it may well be war music, but he'll be with us presently. Sit yourself down, and welcome. Nobody looks on you as the enemy."
    There was a third with them already, a long man seated in deeper shadow, his legs stretched well out before him at ease, and his hair showing as a primrose pallor even in the dimness. The young outlander, Engelard, willingly gathered up his long limbs and also moved to share the bench. He had a quick, open smile vivid with white teeth.
    "We've come expressly to halt the war," said Brother Cadfael as they dismounted, and a groom of the household came running to take their bridles. "Father Huw has the peace in hand, I'm only an assessor to see fair play. And, sadly, we'll be expected back with an answer as soon as we've spoken with your lord. But if you'll take charge of Brother John while we deal, he'll be grateful. He can speak English with Engelard, a man should practise his own tongue when he can."
    But Brother John, it appeared, had at that moment completely lost the use of his tongue in any language, for he stood at gaze, and let the reins be taken from his hands like a man in a dream. Nor was he looking at Engelard, but towards the open doorway of the hall, from which a girl's figure had issued, and was crossing gaily towards the drinkers under the eaves, a large jug carried in both hands. The lively brown eyes flickered over the visitors, took in Cadfael and the priest with easy friendliness, and opened wide upon Brother John, standing like a very lifelike statue, all thorny russet hair, weather-burned cheeks and wild, admiring eyes. Cadfael looked where Annest's eyes were looking, and approved a very upstanding, ruggedly-built, ingenuous, comely young fellow, maybe two or three years older than the girl. The Benedictine