Brother Cadfael 18: The Summer of the Danes

counterpoised in this intensity of anger and hostility, so strange to both of them, and causing them both such indignant pain.
    Owain looked from the one grim face to the other, and asked neutrally of both: "What does this mean?"
    "It means," said Cuhelyn, unlocking his set teeth, "that this man's word is worth no more than his master's. I found him trussed up and gagged in Cadwaladr's tent. The why and how he must tell you, for I know nothing more. But Cadwaladr is gone, and this man left, and the guard who kept the lines there says that Danes came up from the bay in the night, and left him, too, bound among the bushes to open a way within. If all this to-do has a meaning, he must deliver it, not I. But I know, and so do you, my lord, better than any, that he gave his oath not to attempt flight from Aber, and he has broken his oath and befouled his bond."
    "Scarcely to his own gain," said Owain, and forbore to smile, eyeing Gwion's face marked by the harsh folds of the brychan, his black hair tangled and erected, and the swollen lips bruised by the gag. And to the young man so grimly silent and defiantly braced he said mildly: "And how do you say, Gwion? Are you forsworn? Dishonoured, with your oath in the mire?"
    The misshapen lips parted, and shook for a moment with the recoil from tension. So low as to be barely audible, Gwion said remorselessly: "Yes."
    It was Cuhelyn who twisted a little aside, and averted his eyes. Gwion fixed his black gaze on Owain's face, and drew deeper breath, having freely owned to the worst.
    "And why did you so, Gwion? I have known you some while now. Read me your riddle. Truly I left you work to do in Aber, in the matter of Bledri ap Rhys dead. Truly I had your parole. So much we all know. Now tell me how it came that you so belied yourself as to abandon your troth."
    "Let it lie!" said Gwion, quivering. "I did it! Let me pay for it."
    "Nevertheless, tell it!" said Owain with formidable quietness. "For I will know!"
    "You think I will use excuses in my own defence," said Gwion. His voice had steadied and firmed into a calm of utter detachment, indifferent to whatever might happen to him. He began gropingly, as if he himself had never until now probed the complexities of his own behaviour, and was afraid of what he might find. "No, what I have done I have done, I do not excuse it, it is shameful. But I saw shame every way, and no choice but to accept and bear the lesser shame. No, wait. This is not for me to say. Let me tell it as I did it. You left it to me to send back Bledri's body to his wife for burial, and to convey to her the news of how he died. I thought I might without offence do her the grace of facing her, and bringing him to her myself, intending a return to my captivity, if I can so call that easy condition I had with you, my lord. So I went to her in Ceredigion, and there we buried Bledri. And there we talked of what Cadwaladr your brother had done, bringing a Danish fleet to enforce his right, and I came to see that both for you and for him, and for all Gwynedd and Wales, the best that could be was that you two should be brought together, and together send the Danes empty-handed back to Dublin. The thought did not come from me," he said meticulously. "It came from the old, wise men who have outlived wars and come to reason. I was, I am, Cadwaladr's man, I can be no other. But when they had shown me that for his very sake there must be peace made between you two brothers, then I saw as they saw. And I made cause with such of his old captains as I could in such haste, and gathered a force loyal to him, but intent on the reconciliation I also desired to see. And I broke my oath," said Gwion with brutal vehemence. "Whether our fine plans had succeeded or failed, I tell you openly, I would have fought for him. Against the Danes, joyfully. What business had they making such a bargain? Against you, my lord Owain, with a very heavy heart, but if it came to it, I would have done it. For he is my lord, and I serve no other. So I did not go back to Aber. I brought a hundred good fighting men of my own mind to deliver to Cadwaladr, whatever use it might be his intent to make of them."
    "And you found him in my camp," said Owain, and smiled. "And half of your design seemed to be already done for you, and our peace made."
    "So I thought and hoped."
    "And did you find it so? For you have talked with him, have you not, Gwion? Before the Danes came up from the bay, and took him with