Brother Cadfael 18: The Summer of the Danes

mouth below the unrelenting frown. Now the flow of eloquence flagged and faltered, and though Cadwaladr drew deep breath and took up the thread again, he could no longer recover the former conviction. "I have still a following, I will do my part. We cannot fail, they have no firm foothold, they will be caged in their own defences, and swept into the sea that brought them here."
    This time he let fall the very effort of speech. There was even a silence, very eloquent to the several of Owain's men who had ceased their work on the defences to listen with a free tribesman's interest, and without any dissembling. There was never born a Welshman who would not speak his mind bluntly even to his prince.
    "What is there," Owain wondered aloud, to the sky above him and the soil below, "persuades this man still that my words do not mean what they seem to mean in sane men's ears? Did I not say you get no more from me? Not a coin spent, not a man put at risk! This devilment of your own making, my brother, it was for you to unmake. So I said, so I meant and mean."
    "And I have gone far to do it!" Cadwaladr flared, flushing red to the brows. "If you will do your part as heartily we are done with them. And who is put at risk? They dare not put it to the test of battle. They will withdraw while there's time."
    "And you believe I would have any part in such a betrayal? You made an agreement with these freebooters, now you break it as lightly as blown thistledown, and look to me to praise you for it? If your word and troth is so light, at least let me weight it with my black displeasure. If it were for that alone," said Owain, abruptly blazing, "I would not lift a finger to save you from your folly. But there is worse. Who is put at risk, indeed! Have you forgotten, or did you never condescend to understand, that your Danes hold two men of the Benedictine habit, one of them willing hostage for your good faith, which now all men see was not worth a bean, let alone a good man's liberty and life. Yet more, they also hold a girl, one who was in my retinue and in my care, even if she chose to venture to leave it and make shift alone. For all these three I stand responsible. And all these three you have abandoned to whatever fate your Otir may determine for his hostages, now that you have spited, cheated and imperilled him at the cost of your own honour. This is what you have done! Now I will undo such part of it as I can, and you may make such terms as you can with the allies you have cheated and discarded."
    And without pause for any rejoinder, even had his brother retained breath enough to speak, Owain flung away from him to call to the nearest of his men: "Send and saddle me my horse! Now, and hasten!"
    Cadwaladr came to his senses with a violent convulsion, and sprang after him to catch him by the arm. "What will you do? Are you mad? There's no choice now, you are committed as deep as I. You cannot let me fall!"
    Owain plucked himself away from the unwelcome hold, thrusting his brother to arm's length in brief and bitter detestation. "Leave me! Go or stay, do as you please, but keep out of my sight until I can bear the very look and touch of you. You have not spoken for me. If you have so represented the matter, you lied. If a hair of the young deacon's head has been harmed, you shall answer for it. If the girl has suffered any insult or hurt, you shall pay the price of it. Go, hide yourself, think on your own hard case, for you are no brother nor ally of mine; you must carry your own follies to their deserved ending."
    It was not more than two hours past noon when another solitary horseman was sighted from the camp on the dunes, riding fast and heading directly for the Danish perimeter. One man alone, coming with manifest purpose, and making no cautious halt out of range of weapons, but posting vehemently towards the guards, who stood watching his approach with eyes narrowed to weigh up his bearing and accoutrements, and guess at his intent. He wore no mail, and bore no visible arms.
    "No harm in him," said Torsten. "What he wants he'll tell us, by the cut of him. Go tell Otir we have yet another visitor coming."
    It was Turcaill who carried the message, and delivered it as he interpreted it. "A man of note by his beast and his harness. Fairer-headed then I am, he could be a man of our own, and big enough. My match, if I'm a judge. He might even top me. By this he's close. Shall we bring him in?"
    Otir gave no more than a moment to