Brother Cadfael 18: The Summer of the Danes

"If Cadwaladr is nothing to you, and your Heledd hardly more to me, yet if we put our heads and our forces together we may both benefit. Two is better than one alone."
    "But still no more than two," said Ieuan. But he was listening.
    "Two is but the beginning. Two now may be more in a few days. Even if they break my lord into paying his ransom, it will take some days to bring in and load his cattle, and put together what remains in silver coin." He drew closer, his voice lowered to be heard only by Ieuan, if any other should pass by. "I did not come here alone. From Ceredigion I have collected and led some hundred men who still hold by Cadwaladr. Oh, not for the purpose we have in mind at this moment. I was certain that there would be peace made between brothers, and they would combine to drive out the Danes, and I brought my lord at least a fair following to fight for him side by side with those who fight for Owain. I would not have him go free and living only by his brother's grace, but at the head of a company of his own men. I came ahead of them to carry him the news, only to find that Owain has abandoned him. And now the Danes have taken him."
    Ieuan's face had resumed its impassive calm, but behind the wide brow and distant gaze a sharp mind was busy with the calculation of chances hitherto unforeseen. "How far distant are your hundred men?"
    "Two days' march. I left my horse, and a groom who rode with me, a mile south and came alone to find Cadwaladr. Now Owain has cast me free of him into the world to stay or go, I can return within the hour to where I left my man, and send him to bring the company as fast as men afoot can march."
    "There are some within here," said Ieuan, "would welcome a venture. A few I can persuade, some will need no persuasion." He rubbed large, powerful hands together softly, and shut the fingers hard on an invisible weapon. "You and I, Gwion, will talk further of this. And before this day is out, should you not be on your way?"
    Chapter Twelve
    It was well past noon when Torsten again produced his prisoner, chained and humbled and choked with spleen, before Otir. Cadwaladr's handsome lips were grimly set, and his black eyes burning with rage all the more bitter for being under iron control. For all his protestations, he knew as well as any that Owain would not now relent from the position he had taken up. The time for empty hopes was past, and reality had engulfed him and brought him to bay. There was no point in holding out, since eventual submission was inevitable.
    "He has a word for you," said Torsten, grinning. "He has no appetite for living in chains."
    "Let him speak for himself," said Otir.
    "I will pay you your two thousand marks," said Cadwaladr. His voice came thinly through gritted teeth, but he had himself well in hand. "You leave me no choice, since my brother uses me unbrotherly." And he added, testing such shallows as were left to him in this flood of misfortune: "You will have to allow me a few days at liberty to have such a mass of goods and gear collected together, for it cannot all be in silver."
    That brought a gust of throaty laughter from Torsten, and an emphatic jerk of the head from Otir. "Oh, no, my friend! I am not such a fool as to trust you yet again. You do not stir one step out of here, nor shed your fetters, until my ships are loading and ready for sea."
    "How, then, do you propose I should effect this matter of ransom?" demanded Cadwaladr with a savage snarl. "Do you expect my stewards to render up my cattle to you, and my purse, simply at your orders?"
    "I will use an agent I can trust," said Otir, unperturbed now by any flash of anger or defiance from a man so completely in his power. "If, that is, he will act for you even in this affair. That he approves it we already know, you better than any of us. What you will do, before I let you loose even within my guard, is to render up your small seal, I know you have it about you, you would not stir without it, and give me a message so worded that your brother will know it could come only from you. I will deal with a man I can trust, no matter how things stand between us, friend or enemy. Owain Gwynedd, if he will not buy you out of bondage, will not stint to welcome the news that you intend to pay your debts honourably, nor refuse you his aid to see due reparation made. Owain Gwynedd shall do the accounting between you and me."
    "He will not do it!" flared Cadwaladr, stung. "Why should he believe that I