Brother Cadfael 18: The Summer of the Danes

guard over the door of his lodging, or followed him from hall to his bed?"
    "From the chapel to his bed," Cadfael amended, "if any man had that charge. No, Mark, we watched him go. There was no one treading on his heels." He looked across the ward, to the alley into which Bledri had vanished when he came from the chapel. "Are we not taking too much for granted, all of us? The prince has more urgent matters on his hands, true, but should not someone confirm what we have all leaped to believe?"
    Gwion emerged slowly and silently from the open doorway of the chapel, drawing the door to after him, so that the tiny gleam of red vanished. He came somewhat wearily across the ward, seemingly unaware of the two who stood motionless and mute in the shadows, until Cadfael stepped forward to intercept him, mildly seeking information from one who might be expected to be able to supply it: "A moment! Do you know in which of the many lodgings here this Bledri ap Rhys slept overnight?" And as the young man halted abruptly, turning on him a startled and wary face: "I saw you greet him yesterday when we rode in, I thought you might know. You must have been glad to have some talk with an old acquaintance while he was here."
    For some reason the protracted interval of silence was more eloquent than what was finally said in reply. It would have been natural enough to answer at once: "Why do you want to know? What does it matter now?" seeing that lodging must be empty, if the man who had slept there had fled in the night. The pause made it plain that Gwion knew well enough who had walked in upon him in the chapel, and was well aware that they must have seen Bledri departing. He had time to think before he spoke, and what he said was: "I was glad, to set eyes on a man of my own tribe. I have been here hostage more than half a year. They will have told you as much. The steward had given him one of the lodgings against the north wall. I can show you. But what difference does it make now? He's gone. Others may blame him," he said haughtily, "but not I. If I had been free, I would have done as he did. I never made secret of where my fealty lay. And lies still!"
    "God forbid anyone should condemn a man for keeping faith," agreed Cadfael equably. "Did Bledri have his chamber to himself?"
    "He did." Gwion hoisted his shoulders, shrugging off an interest it seemed he did not understand, but accepted as meaning something to these wandering Benedictines if it meant nothing to him. "There was none sharing it with him, to prevent his going, if that is what you mean."
    "I was wondering, rather," said Cadfael deprecatingly, "whether we are not assuming too much, just because a horse is missing. If his lodging was in a remote corner of the wards, with many a wall between, may he not have slept through this whole uproar, and be still snoring in all innocence? Since he lay alone, there was no one to wake him, if he proved so sound a sleeper."
    Gwion stood staring, eye to eye with him, his thick dark brows raised. "Well, true enough, but for the horn call a man with enough drink in him might have slept through it all. I doubt it, but if you feel the need to see for yourself... It's not on my way, but I'll show you." And without more words he set off into the passage between the rear of the great hall and the long timber range of the storehouse and armoury. They followed his brisk figure, shadowy in the dimness, through towards the long line of buildings in the shelter of the outer wall.
    "The third door was his." It stood just ajar, no gleam of light showing in the crack. "Go in, Brothers, and see for yourselves. But by the look of it you'll find him gone, and all his gear with him."
    The range of small rooms was built in beneath the watch-platform along the outer wall, and shadowed deeply by its overhang. Cadfael had seen only one stairway to the platform, broad and easy of access but in full view of the main gate. Moreover, it would not be easy to descend on the outer side, unless with a long rope, for the fighting gallery projected outward from the wall, and there was a ditch below. Cadfael set a hand to the door and pushed it open upon darkness. His eyes, by this time accustomed to the night and such light as the clear but moonless sky provided, were at once blind again. There was no movement, and no sound within. He set the door wide, and advanced a step or two into the small chamber.
    "We should have brought a torch," said Mark, at his shoulder.
    No