Brother Cadfael 03: Monk's Hood

"came from this very region, from a village between here and Llansilin. He was talking of his old kinship when he knew I was coming to Rhyd y croesau. I'd be glad to carry his greetings, if I can find his people. Two cousins he mentioned, Cynfrith and Owain ap Rhys. You haven't encountered either? And a brother by marriage, one Ifor ap Morgan ... though it must be many years since he had any contact with any of them, and for ought I know this Ifor ap Morgan may be dead long ago. He must be round about Rhys's own age, and few of us last so long."
    The steward shook his head doubtfully. "Cynfrith ap Rhys I've heard spoken of, he has a holding half a mile or so west of here. Ifor ap Morgan ... no, I know nothing of him. But I tell you what, if he's living the boy will know, he's from Llansilin himself. Question him when you leave, and do it in Welsh, for all he knows English well enough. You'll get more out of him in Welsh ... and all the more readily," he added with a wry grin, "if I'm not with you. They're none of them ill-disposed, but they keep their own counsel, and it's wonderful how they fail to understand English when it suits them to shut the alien out."
    "I'll try it," said Cadfael, "and my thanks for the good advice."
    "Then you'll forgive me if I don't accompany you to the gate and give you God-speed. You'll do better alone."
    Cadfael took the hint and his leave, there in the solar, and went out through the hail and by the screened way into the kitchen. They boy was there, backing red-faced from the oven with a tray of new loaves. He looked round warily as he set down his burden on the clay top to cool gradually. It was neither fear nor distrust, but the wariness of a wild creature alert and responsive to every living thing, curious and ready to be friendly, sceptical and ready to vanish.
    "God save you, son!" said Cadfael in Welsh. "If your bread's all out now, do a Christian deed, come out to the gate with me, and show a stranger the way to the holding of Cynfrith ap Rhys or his brother Owain."
    The boy gazed, eyes brightening into interest at being addressed placidly in his own tongue. "You are from Shrewsbury abbey, sir? A monk?"
    "I am."
    "But Welsh?"
    "As Welsh as you, lad, but not from these parts. The vale of Conwy is my native place, near by Trefriw."
    "What's your will with Cynfrith ap Rhys?" asked the boy directly.
    Now I know I'm in Wales, thought Cadfael. An English servant, if he ventured to challenge your proceedings at all, would do it roundabout and obsequiously, for fear of getting his ears clipped, but your Welsh lad speaks his mind to princes.
    "In our abbey," he said obligingly, "there's an old brother who used to be known in these parts as Rhys ap Griffith, and he's cousin to these other sons of Rhys. When I left Shrewsbury I said I'd take his greetings to his kin, and so I will if I can find them. And while we're about it there's one more name he gave me, and you may at least be able to tell me if the man's alive or dead, for he must be old. Rhys had a sister Marared, who married one Ifor ap Morgan, and they had a daughter Angharad, though I'm told she's dead years ago. But if Ifor is still living I'll speak the good word to him, also."
    Under this rain of Welsh names the boy thawed into smiles. "Sir, Ifor ap Morgan is still alive. He lives a fair way beyond, nearly to Llansilin. I'll come out with you and show you the way."
    He skipped down the stone staircase lightly, ahead of Cadfael, and trotted before him to the gate. Cadfael followed, leading his horse, and looked where the boy pointed, westward between the hills.
    "To the house of Cynfrith ap Rhys it is but half a mile, and it lies close by the track, on your right hand, with the wattle fence round the yard. You'll see his white goats in the little paddock. For Ifor ap Morgan you must go further. Keep to the same track again until you're through the hills, and looking down into the valley, then take the path to the right, that fords our river before it joins the Cynllaith. Half a mile on, look to your right again, just within the trees, and you'll see a little wooden house, and that's where Ifor lives. He's very old now, but he lives alone still."
    Cadfael thanked him and mounted.
    "And for the other brother, Owain," said the boy cheerfully, willing enough now to tell all he knew that might be helpful, "if you're in these parts two more days you may catch him in Llansilin the day after tomorrow, when the commote court meets, for