Brother Cadfael 09: Dead Man's Ransom

unprepared.
    'Which he will not,' said the cheerful sergeant who received Cadfael into the castle and saw his horse stabled and the rider well entertained. 'The earl is no madman to shove his fist into a hornets' nest. Leave him one weak place he can gnaw wider and he'd be in, but we're leaving him none. He thought he might do well, knowing Prestcote was gone. He thought our lad would be green and easy. He's learning different! And if these Welsh of Powys have an ear pricked this way, they should also take the omens. But who's to reason what the Welsh will do? This Owain, now, he's a man on his own. Straw gold like a Saxon, and big! What's such a one doing in Wales?'
    'He came here?' asked Cadfael, feeling his Cambrian blood stir in welcome.
    'Last night, to sup with Beringar, and rode for Chirk at dawn. Welsh and English will man that fortress instead of fighting over it. There's a marvel!'
    Cadfael pondered his errands and considered time. 'Where would Hugh Beringar be this night, do you suppose?'
    'At Ellesmere, most like. And tomorrow at Whitchurch. The next day before we should look for him back here. He means to meet again with Owain, and make his way down the border after, if all goes well here.'
    'And if Owain lies at Chirk tonight, where will he be bound tomorrow?'
    'He has his camp still at Tregeiriog, with his friend Tudur ap Rhys. It's there he's called whatever new levies come in to his border service.' So he must keep touch there always, in order to deploy his forces wherever they might be needed. And if he returned there the next night, so would Einon ab Ithel.
    'I'll sleep the night here,' said Cadfael, 'and tomorrow I'll also make for Tregeiriog. I know the maenol and its lord. I'll wait for Owain there. And do you let Hugh Beringar know that the Welsh of Powys are in the field again, as I've told you. Small harm yet, and should there be worse, Herbard will send word here. But if this border holds fast, and bloodies Chester's nose wherever he ventures it, Madog ap Meredith will also learn sense.' This extreme border castle of Oswestry, with its town, was the king's, but the manor of Maesbury, of which it had become the head, was Hugh's own native place, and there was no man here who did not hold with him and trust him. Cadfael felt the solid security of Hugh's name about him, and a garrison doubly loyal, to Stephen and to Hugh. It was a good feeling, all the more now that Owain Gwynedd spread the benign shadow of his hand over a border that belonged by location to Powys. Cadfael slept well after hearing Compline in the castle chapel, rose early, took food and drink, and crossed the great dyke into Wales.
    He had all but ten miles to go to Tregeiriog, winding all the way through the enclosing hills, always with wooded slopes one side or the other or both, and in open glimpses the bald grass summits leaning to view, and a sky veiled and still and mild overhead. Not mountain country, not the steel blue rocks of the northwest, but hill country always, with limited vistas, leaning hangers of woodland, closed valleys that opened only at the last moment to permit another curtained view. Before he drew too close to Tregeiriog the expected pickets heaved out of the low brush, to challenge, recognise and admit him. His Welsh tongue was the first safe conduct, and stood him in good stead.
    All the colours had changed since last he rode down the steep hillside into Tregeiriog. Round the brown, timbered warmth of maenol and village beside the river, the trees had begun to soften their skeletal blackness with a delicate pale green froth of buds, and on the lofty, rounded summits beyond the snow was gone, and the bleached pallor of last year's grass showed the same elusive tint of new life. Through the browned and rotting bracken the first fronds uncurled. Here it was already Spring.
    At the gate of Tudur's maenol they knew him, and came readily to lead him in and take charge of his horse. Not Tudur himself, but his steward, came to welcome the guest and do the honours of the house. Tudur was with the prince, doubtless at this hour on his way back from Chirk. In the cleft of the tributary brook behind the maenol the turfed camp, fires of his border levies gave off blue wisps of smoke on the still air. By evening the hall would again be Owain's court, and all his chief captains in this border patrol mustered about his table.
    Cadfael was shown to a small chamber within the house, and offered the ceremonial water to