Chapter 14

"What are you doing here!?" Cadfael exclaimed.

Of all the people he would have expected to come down to their cell, Dewydd was certainly not on the list. Yet, there was no mistake. Now that he had completely awoken and his eyes were accustomed to the dim, flickering light of the torches, Cadfael recognized the familiar face of the former novice.

"Hush!" the boy murmured. "Please, Brother, there is no time to explain. We must leave before someone realizes what is going on!"

Cadfael wondered for a second. Should he trust the Welsh lad, when he had disappeared so unexpectedly in the middle of the night, right before they were attacked by riders, and when he was supposed to keep watch? Then again, being frightened was not a crime, even though it did border on betrayal. And if fear indeed had made Dewydd abandon them, the bravery he had shown by coming down here to free them made amends for his previous shortcomings. Besides, what choice was there? Either they followed the boy, and took whatever destiny had in store for them, or they stayed in their cell until Hugh was traded to the Empress and... Cadfael preferred not to think about what would happen then, so he just nodded to Dewydd.

"Fine," he said in a low voice. "We're coming. But you will have some explaining to do, young lad."

Dewydd looked down. In shame? "I swear I can explain," he whispered. "Just give me a chance."

Cadfael stood up and kneeled at his friend's side. Hugh was usually a light sleeper, but he was still injured, which accounted for his being still fast asleep. He woke up with a start when Cadfael's hand brushed his shoulder lightly, and made a move to grasp the dagger he did not have at his waist before he realized who had roused him. He raised a quizzical eyebrow at his friend, then saw Dewydd and his expression became wary.

"We must go," the monk murmured.

Hugh had as many questions as his friend, and it was only his trust in Cadfael that prevented him from nagging at the boy until he had all the answers he wanted. However, he too could understand the necessity for swiftness and silence, and he merely nodded, although the gleam in his dark eyes was plain enough as to what he intended to do once they were safe. For the moment, though, he merely rose to his feet, swaying only a little as he did so. Cadfael cast him a worried glance.

"Can you walk?" he enquired softly.

Beringar shrugged. "Yes," he said. "I think," he added through his teeth, and the monk could not help but smile a little. It would be all right, he tried to reassure himself.

Dewydd had been squirming out of impatience all this time, and eagerly went out first to show them the way. Cadfael remembered to grab his herbs on the way out, and followed him, side by side with Hugh. He nearly cried out when he noticed the guards, all three of them, seated at the same, wobbly-legged table he had noticed when they had been taken down there; but almost at once, he realized they were fast asleep, and he cast Dewydd a scrutinizing look. The boy shrugged.

"Sleeping potion. I'll explain later."

Whatever had been used in this potion, it was obviously very efficient; none of the guards so much as stirred when the two prisoners and their saviour crept by stealthily. They reached the stairs without a problem, and climbed them quickly. As they came out, Cadfael took a long breath in. Fresh air, after days spent in the keep, felt surprisingly good. He should be used to cells, being a monk, but he was not. He looked at the sky with relish; it was night, a particularly dark, moonless night, actually.

Now that they were actually out - and it had been much easier than Cadfael would have thought - he wondered where they would be going. However, Dewydd seemed to have a very clear idea on the matter, for he headed to his right without any hesitation. But something was not right - there should be more guards. The monk lightly tapped the boy's shoulder to get his attention.

"Where are the other guards?" he mouthed.

Dewydd grinned. "A diversion," he said quickly. "That way now."

Sharing a curious glance, Cadfael and Hugh followed. This escape seemed to have been carefully planned, after all, and not set up on a whim.

They quickly left the vicinity of the castle, and found themselves in the town itself. At this time of the night - Cadfael could not tell exactly what hour it was, but probably well after midnight - there was no one in the streets, which suited them fine. Cadfael wondered what was going to happen next. Would they hide in the woods, or try to get back to Shrewsbury? Yet, without horses, they would be recaptured all too easily, and this escape would have been all for nothing. Then what?

The monk's curiosity was soon to be satisfied. With the same odd assurance he had shown so far, Dewydd guided them to a building which, according to its shop sign, was a tavern. A tavern? Cadfael hesitated, but already the boy was knocking softly at the door, which was immediately opened. A tall, strong woman now stood in the doorway, relief etched on her features when she saw Dewydd.

"My boy - come in, quick!" she ordered, and he obeyed with a grin. The woman then gazed at Cadfael and Hugh, and she switched to English. "Those are your friends, Dewydd?"

"Yes, Aunt Ceridwen," he nodded, and she opened the door a bit wider, gesturing for the two to enter.

Somewhat taken aback, they complied, and found themselves in a long, warm room, with numerous tables and chairs. The sturdy woman led them to a back room, much smaller, that looked a lot like a kitchen. All this was so unlike what Cadfael and Hugh had expected, that it took them some more time to recover from the surprise. Ceridwen took advantage of that time to take some hot water from the hearth, and she poured them some tea. It was the first time they had had something warm since they had left Gloucester, and they gladly took the cups, sitting down at Dewydd's incitement. However, Hugh kept staring at Ceridwen.

"You are Dewydd's aunt?" he asked, somewhat bluntly.

"Actually, she was my nurse," the boy explained. "But my mother died when I was very young, so she was almost family."

Ceridwen smiled proudly when she heard that. "I was so heartbroken when I heard you were in Gloucester, and so glad when you came back!"

"What news...?" Cadfael began, frowning.

"That's right, I need to explain now," Dewydd admitted. "But first - is Gwendolyn back yet?"

"No," the woman replied, heaving a sigh. "But I'm certain she will be back soon. She is stealthy as a cat, when she wants to. Not at all lady-like," she concluded mournfully.

"Gwendolyn?" Hugh enquired, an eyebrow raised questioningly.

"My foster sister," Dewydd specified. "The diversion," he added sheepishly, and Cadfael could not help but snigger.

"Enough stalling, now," the monk said. "We're listening to your explanation, young man, and you should better give us a satisfying one."

He saw Hugh lean back in his seat as he sipped his tea, and noticed the shade of pain flitting by on his angular features. The monk promised himself to take a look at his friend later, but now was not the time.

"I suppose I should start with the reason why I was at the abbey of Gloucester," Dewydd sighed. "First, you need to know that my complete name is Dewydd ap Goronwy. I am Prince Owain's cousin."

Cadfael's eyebrows rose nearly up to his hairline, betraying his surprise, and Hugh choked on his tea. Both stared at their young companion.

"Well, I suspected you were of noble breeding," the monk admitted. "But I did not quite go that far."

Dewydd smiled a little. "I didn't know whether I should trust you, so I thought it was safer to say nothing. I am in Owain's favour, and since both my parents died when I was two, he raised me almost as a son, or perhaps a brother."

"Then why did you take the trouble to set up this escape?" Cadfael asked. "Why not just ask Owain to free..." a sudden thought struck him, and he gasped out of surprise. "Owain's relative! The one he wanted to exchange for Hugh! That's you, isn't it?"

The boy looked a little surprised. "I didn't know he wanted to exchange you for me," he said apologetically to Beringar. "But yes, that would be me. As for your first question - I'm getting to that. Please don't interrupt me." He frowned, and that made him look so much like a smaller version of Owain that it was impossible to doubt their relatedness, and Cadfael wondered how he had not noticed it earlier. Then again, he had seen Owain twice in his life only, and then he had had other things on his mind.

"Yes, yes," he said soothingly. "Go on."

"As I was saying, I am close to Owain. That's why the Englishmen..." he looked apologetically at Hugh once again, but the deputy sheriff waved the matter away as a trivial thing. "...that's why they wanted to capture me. To have a means to force him to do things he would have not accepted otherwise. Or at least, that's what I assumed."

"I think you're right," Beringar commented.

"However, I suspect Cadwaladr had something to do with my capture," Dewydd continued. "The escort was put together by him, mostly, and they nigh on let me be captured without a fight. Cadwaladr is Owain's younger brother, but they disagree on numerous matters. And Owain doesn't have children, so his succession is still in question. I think Cadwaladr feels threatened by me, because of the influence I have on Owain."

It made sense, so far.

"What then?" Hugh pressed the Welsh lad.

"I think Robert of Gloucester wanted to keep my capture a secret, so Stephen would not suspect what he had in mind. I'm not sure what his plans were, but I believe he wanted to ensure, if not Owain's support, then at least his neutrality, so as to corner the King between his armies and the Welsh land. It was this desire to keep my presence secret that made him ask Father Bertolf to keep me in the abbey, seemingly as a novice."

"The guards at the gates of the abbey!" Cadfael snapped his fingers. "They were there for you!"

"Indeed," Dewydd nodded gravely. "I was closely watched, although I sometimes managed to slip away for a few hours. When I heard a Welsh monk had arrived, I decided to take the risk of asking you to take a message to my family. But I was wary about you, because I didn't know you, and I eavesdropped a little."

The confession made Cadfael smile. "I knew I heard a sound."

"That you did," Hugh said, sounding a bit disgruntled, "and I am blind and deaf not to have noticed all this."

"I was very careful," the boy clarified, "and when I learnt you were loyal to King Stephen, I decided to take the risk of asking for your help. But I thought you would help me only if I had something to give you in exchange, and when I discovered that Humphrey was more than likely responsible for the theft of the dagger, I knew it was my chance. I came to you, and you know what happened then."

"Indeed," the monk said thoughtfully. "But what about the night we were taken prisoner, and after?"

The boy looked a bit ashamed at that. "I saw them coming. I knew that if I fled, I wouldn't have the time to warn you. But if I stayed and was taken prisoner... I saw Cadwaladr. I was afraid he would take advantage of the occasion to get rid of me, once and for all. All his riders are loyal to him - they would die for him. They would certainly keep their lips sealed if he asked them to. It was a golden opportunity for him, since everybody still believed me to be in Gloucester."

There was a silence after that, as Hugh and Cadfael pondered everything Dewydd had just told them. It made sense, and sincerity was etched on the boy's features. They could not doubt his word.

"So you came here by your own means, and you decided to free us," Beringar eventually prompted him.

"Yes," Dewydd admitted. "I do not know how much influence Cadwaladr has. I couldn't trust anyone, except of course my good Aunt Ceridwen, and Gwendolyn. So I came to hide here. I had to free you - and now, I also need your help."

Something had been bothering Cadfael for a little while, and he finally pinpointed it with satisfaction. "Of course! The killers must have been sent by Cadwaladr too!"

"Killers?" Dewydd frowned in confusion. "What killers?"

"Two men tried to kill us in our cell," the monk explained briefly. "We told you Owain had intended to trade Hugh in exchange for you. But Cadwaladr could not allow that. If, as you said, the escort picked by him did not really try to protect you, he must have known you would probably accuse him - not to mention, if he feared your influence on Owain, he would have done anything to keep you away in Gloucester. So he did the simplest thing he could; he tried to get rid of us."

"But I thought Owain wanted to trade only Lord Beringar," the boy protested. "Why kill you as well?"

"Because Cadfael would have been an annoying witness," Hugh said grimly. "And at this point, what would be one more murder to Cadwaladr?"

They shared a glance. All had been explained, but that left them in a tight spot. They did not know who to trust, or even what exactly should their next step be.

"I'm not sure what to do now," Dewydd admitted honestly. "I thought you might help me, but if you choose to go back to Shrewsbury and forget you ever came here, I can't blame you. I brought you a lot of trouble, I know, and I'm sorry for that. I know that's not an excuse, but I didn't feel I had much of a choice."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Cadfael berated him. "Now that we're here, we might as well see this affair through. Although I must admit, family rivalry and struggles for power are not exactly in my field of expertise. What do you think we should do, Hugh?"

The deputy sheriff rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He needed a shave, but then so did Cadfael. The monk thought ruefully about his tonsure. What a state it must be in...

"As far as I can tell, there is only one thing to do," Beringar finally said. "We need to speak with Owain. And to do so, the only way is to get back to the castle."

Cadfael was about to raise an objection, when someone knocked at the door. Everyone stilled, but Ceridwen rose to her feet calmly.

"Don't move," she said in her heavily accented English. "I will go and see. If there is any danger, I will speak loud and stall them, to give you time to escape by the back door."

They nodded and she left the kitchen. The two friends and Dewydd waited in a tense silence, expecting to hear shouts and soldiers' heavy footsteps at any time, but nothing happened. Cadfael was about to stand up and go see what was going on, in spite of the danger, when Ceridwen came back. She was followed by a girl clad in boy's clothes, who seemed to be the same age as Dewydd - fifteen or sixteen - with a mischievous gleam in her dark brown eyes, and a contented smile on her lips. Her long black hair had been tied in a braid that left the girl her freedom of movement. Cadfael knew, even before Dewydd introduced her, that she could only be Gwendolyn.

"You're late," Ceridwen scolded the girl in English. "Can you imagine how worried I was? No, of course not! Well, tell us what happened!"

Gwendolyn had a crystalline laugh, and answered in Welsh. "These guards are stupid oafs, I swear."

"Don't swear, and speak English - we have guests," her mother replied scathingly, and the girl made a childish, sulky pout, but went on without a comment.

"I annoyed them and I made enough noise for them to come after me, and they did. So I led them around. I know the castle much better than any of them, anyway."

"She lived there with me when we were children," Dewydd explained discreetly.

"In the dark, it was easy to lead them astray," she continued. "When they came too close, I just stopped making noise. In the end, I climbed the wall of the castle to get away."

Judging from Ceridwen's pursed lips and her disapproving glare, it was not the first time Gwendolyn had pulled off such a feat. She seemed to be a tomboy, an impression which was backed by her features, too angular for her to be really beautiful according to normal standards, but that did not take away any of her natural charm and contagious lightheartedness. As he observed her, Cadfael felt like he was watching one of these birds that could never be kept in captivity.

"After that, I just waited for them to give up, and then I came back here," Gwendolyn concluded.

"You did a great job," Dewydd grinned, and she smiled back.

"Don't encourage her", Ceridwen muttered, but she was pointedly ignored by the two children. The woman looked heavenwards and sighed.

The girl sat down near Hugh and poured herself some tea, before looking at her mother's two extra guests. "So, what do we do now?"

"That's what we were discussing when you arrived," Cadfael said. "Actually, you were saying something about going directly to Owain, Hugh."

Beringar nodded. "Yes, and you were about to object, I think," he said teasingly.

"It would be too dangerous to go back to the castle," the monk replied. "We'd be recognized too easily."

"I could go," Gwendolyn offered immediately.

"No," Ceridwen cut her immediately, and Dewydd concurred.

"You think I'm not able to do it?" Gwendolyn asked scathingly. "Yet I was able to fool the guards, and quite easily."

"That's not the problem," Dewydd said in a reasonable voice, "but I don't want to put you in danger. Cadwaladr wouldn't hesitate to kill you. Besides, to Owain you were just a servant's daughter. He wouldn't listen to you. No, if anyone must go, it's me."

"No!" Cadfael and Hugh exclaimed at the same time, then shared a smile.

The boy frowned, and made a pout that looked a lot like the one Gwendolyn had made moments before.

"You would be recognized even more easily than us," Cadfael explained. "Cadwaladr would know about your presence long before Owain, most likely, and then your life would not be worth a dime."

"Then what?" Dewydd asked.

"Actually," Hugh said wryly, "the only one who can go is me."

They all stared at him.

"Dewydd is too easily recognizable," Beringar explained patiently. "Owain would probably not listen to Ceridwen or Gwendolyn - no offence meant."

The girl must have had a soft spot for him, for instead of scowling she accepted his apology gracefully. Cadfael sniggered, and his friend gave him a mock glare.

"Brother Cadfael's Benedictine habit would make him recognizable at ten paces," Hugh went on, pointedly ignoring the monk's harrumphing. "That leaves only me."

"But you're the only one among us who doesn't speak Welsh," Cadfael pointed out. "That's a problem."

Hugh shrugged. "Well, I'm not so thrilled about this whole thing either, but I don't see any other solution. Just teach me how to say 'I'm busy, don't have time to talk now', and it should be enough to get to Owain. And I'm quite certain he will listen to me, whether I speak in English or in Welsh."

Cadfael glanced unhappily at his friend, but the fact was, he did not have any better idea. Yet, it was a little too risky for his liking.

"And how will you convince Owain that you are telling the truth? He doesn't know you, after all," Ceridwen interjected.

"True," Hugh admitted.

"That's easy enough," Dewydd said. "This ring was my father's, and Owain will recognize it without a shade of doubt."

He took a golden ring with a blue stone off his middle finger and gave it to Hugh, who nodded and put it on his own finger for safekeeping.

"Well, nothing more will be done tonight in any case," Cadfael concluded, still unhappy about the situation. "I think we'd better sleep on this. We can take a final decision tomorrow, when we are well-rested. I for one am in no shape to think."

"The good Brother is right," Ceridwen agreed firmly. "It's no time for good Christians to be up. To bed, everyone!"

The youngest two protested half-heartedly, for principles' sake, but a glare from the sturdy woman silenced them. She turned to her guests.

"I'm sorry, but I have to hide you in the cellar. Everybody will be looking for you, and I can't take the risk that a customer or a neighbour might see you. And the same goes for you, Dewydd," she added sternly. "The three of you can stay together. I'm sorry for the lack of privacy."

"It's all right," Cadfael reassured her. "It's much better than our previous, uh... bedroom."

Ceridwen smiled a little at that, and she led them to a trapdoor that led to the cellar. It was a bit dark, but she lit several torches. There was also a basement window that opened on to the backyard, and would supply some light during the day. The room was reasonably warm and dry, and Ceridwen had prepared a good stack of blankets for her guests - more than enough for them to sleep comfortably. They thanked her, and bade her goodnight. Then Cadfael gathered his herbs and turned to his friend.

"I'd like to have another look at your wound," he said.

For once, Hugh did not protest, but complied willingly, and removed his bliaud and shirt. "It seems I am always the one who needs to be looked after," he joked.

"That's normal," Cadfael replied in a mock haughty voice. "I am twice your age, young man. My experience is worth something."

"Ouch - I never had any doubt about that," Hugh said hastily when the monk began to prod the wound. His quick surrender made Cadfael smile.

Once satisfied, he straightened up. "It's healing reasonably well," he conceded. "Just avoid moving too abruptly, if you don't want to be in my care for another fortnight."

"Perish the thought," Hugh muttered as he lay down on the blankets he had appropriated for himself.

"Come again?" the monk asked threateningly.

"...nothing."

"Thought so."

With relish, Cadfael curled up in his own blankets, and fell asleep faster than you could say "Matins".