Brother Cadfael 09: Dead Man's Ransom

vindicated, only to pursue his suit for Melicent Prestcote, and worm his way out of his Welsh betrothal. It might even be better if she had warning now, before the blow fell. Cadfael was pondering what he could best do for her, and with only half an ear tuned to what she was saying.
    'At least I have purged my own soul,' she said, as much to herself as to him. 'I have always known how well he loves me, if only he did not love his cousin as well or better. Fosterlings are like that, you are Welsh, you know it. But if he could not bring himself to undo what was done so ill, I have done it for him now. I tired of silence. Why should we bleed without a cry? I have done what had to be done, I've spoken with my father and with his. In the end I shall have my way.' She rose, giving him a pale but resolute smile. 'We shall be able to speak again, brother, before you leave us. I must go and see how things fare in the kitchen, they'll be home with the evening.'
    He gave her an abstracted farewell, and watched her cross the hall with her free, boy's stride and straight, proud carriage. Not until she had reached the door did he realise the meaning of what she had said. 'Cristina!' he called in startled enlightenment; but the door had closed and she was gone.
    There was no error, he had heard aright. She knew how well he loved her, if only he did not love his cousin as well or better, in the way of fosterlings! Yes, all that he had known before, he had seen it manifested in their warring exchanges, and misread it utterly. How a man can be deceived, where every word, every aspect, confirms him in his blindness! Not a single lie spoken or intended, yet the sum total a lie.
    She had spoken with her father, and with his!
    Cadfael heard in his mind's ear Elis ap Cynan's blithe voice accounting for himself when first he came to Shrewsbury. Owain Gwynedd was his overlord, and had overseen him in the fosterage where he had placed him when his father died...
    '... with my uncle Griffith ap Meilyr, where I grew up with my cousin Eliud as brothers...' Two young men, close as twins, far too close to make room for the bride destined for one of them. Yes, and she fighting hard for what she claimed as her rights, and knowing there was love deep enough and wild enough to match her love, if only ... If only a mistaken bond made in infancy could be honourably dissolved. If only those two could be severed, that dual creature staring into a mirror, the left handed image and the right handed, and which of them the reality? How is a stranger to tell?
    But now he knew. She had not used the word loosely, of the kinsman who had reared them both. No, she meant just what she had said. An uncle may also be a foster father, but only a natural father is a father.
    They came, as before, with the dusk. Cadfael was still in a daze when he heard them come, and stirred himself to go out and witness the torchlit bustle in the court, the glimmer on the coats of the horses, the jingle of harness, bit and spur, the cheerful and purposeful hum of entwining voices, the hissing and crooning of the grooms, the trampling of hooves and the very faint mist of warm breath in the chilling but frostless air. A grand, vigorous pattern of lights and shadows, and the open door of the hall glowing warmly for welcome.
    Tudur ap Rhys was the first down from the saddle, and himself strode to hold his prince's stirrup. Owain Gwynedd's fair hair gleamed uncovered in the ruddy light of the torches as he sprang down, a head taller than his host. Man after man they came, chieftain after chieftain, the princelings of Gwynedd's nearer commoes, the neighbours of England. Cadfael stood to survey each one as he dismounted, and lingered until all were on foot, and their followers dispersed into the camps beyond the maenol. But he did not find among them Einon ab Ithel, whom he sought.
    'Einon?' said Tudur, questioned. 'He's following, though he may come late to table. He had a visit to pay in Llansantffraid, he has a daughter married there, and his first grandson is come new into the world. Before the evening's out he'll be with us. You're heartily welcome to my roof again, brother, all the more if you bring news to please the prince's ear. It was an ill thing that happened there with you, he feels it as a sad stain on a clean acquaintance.'
    'I'm rather seeking than bringing enlightenment,' Cadfael confessed. 'But I trust one man's ill deed cannot mar these meetings between your prince and our