Brother Cadfael 18: The Summer of the Danes

tomorrow, if that does not cause you too much inconvenience. Much as I would like to linger, I have pledged myself to a prompt return. And even beyond that, the party with which we rode from Saint Asaph included a young woman who should have come here to Bangor with us, under Owain Gwynedd's protection, but now, bereft of that protection, since the prince perforce has hurried on to Carnarvon, she has unwisely ridden out from Aber alone, and somewhere has lost her way. They are seeking for her from Aber. But since we have come as far as Bangor, if I may justify the delay even of one day, or two, I should like to spend them searching for her in these parts also. If you will grant me leave to make use of so short a delay, we will spend it for the lady's benefit, and you, I know, will be making use of every moment for the better keep of your own people."
    A good speech, Cadfael approved, one that gives nothing away of what lies behind Heledd's flight, thereby sparing her reputation and this good prelate's very proper concern. He interpreted it carefully, improvising a little where memory faltered, since Mark had allowed him no pause between the lines. The bishop nodded instant comprehension, and demanded practically: "Did the lady know of this threat from Dublin?"
    "No," said Mark, "the messenger from Carnarvon came only later. She cannot have known."
    "And she is somewhere abroad between Aber and here, and alone? I wish I had more men to send out after her," said Meurig, frowning, "but we have already sent on to Carnarvon all the fighting men who can be spared, to join the prince there. Such as are left we may need here."
    "We do not know," Cadfael said, "which way she rode. She may be well behind us to the east, for all we know, and safe enough. But if we can do no more, we can divide on the ride back, and enquire everywhere after her."
    "And if she has by now heard of the peril," Mark added eagerly, "and very wisely looks for safe shelter, are there in these regions any houses of religious women, where she might take refuge?"
    This also Cadfael translated, though he could have given a general answer to it himself, without troubling the bishop. The Church in Wales had never run to nunneries, as even conventual life for men had never been on the same monastic pattern as in England. Instead of the orderly, well-regulated house of sisters, with a recognised authority and a rule, here there might arise, in the most remote and solitary wilderness, a small wattled oratory, with a single, simple saint living within it, a saint in the old dispensation, without benefit of Pope or canonisation, who grew a few vegetables and herbs for her food, and gathered berries and wild fruit, and came to loving terms with the small beasts of the warren, so that they ran to hide in her skirts when they were hunted, and neither huntsmen nor horn could urge on the hounds to do the lady affront, or her little visitors harm. Though Cadfael had to admit, on reflection, that the Dublin Danes might not observe a proper respect to such unaccustomed evidences of sanctity.
    The bishop shook his head. "Our holy women do not gather in communities, like yours, but set up their cells in the wilds, alone. Such anchoresses would not settle near a town. More likely far to withdraw into the mountains. There is one we know of here, who has her hermitage by this same Menai water, some miles west from here, beyond the narrows. But as soon as we heard of this threat from the sea I sent to warn her, and bring her in here to shelter. And she had the good sense to come, and make no demur about it. God is the first and best defence of lone women, but I see no virtue in leaving all to him. I want no martyrs within my domain, and sanctity is small protection."
    "Then her cell is left empty," said Mark, and sighed. "But if this girl should have ridden so far, and failed to find a friend at need, where next might she turn?"
    "Inland, surely, into the cover of woodland. I know of no defensible holding close by, but these raiders, if they land, would not go far from their ships. Any house in Arfon would take a girl in. Though the nearest and themselves most at risk," he added simply, "may well have drawn off into the hills themselves. Your fellow here knows how lightly we can vanish at need."
    "I doubt she can have gone far ahead of us," said Cadfael, pondering possibilities. "And for all we know she may have her own plans, and know very well where to run. At least we can