I hope you'll enjoy my new chapter. Unfortunately, my daughter who read through my chapters or even translated some of them, has too tight a schedule to do so. So please be lenient with mistakes or clumsy expressions. If one of you would like to revise my translations, I'd be happy.

Describing King Richard the way I do, I don't have any qualms, since he had little interest in England and he ordered the infamous massacre at Acre, where many women and children were slaughtered. I don't know anything, however, about the Bishop of St.David's; his name was Peter de Leia and I don't want to insult his memory; so I decided to invent another one. (BTW: I found a bishop called Uhtred in Wales.)

The Lord Rhys I will mention later on is Rhys ap Gruffydd, the Prince of South Wales and ruler of the Kingdom of Deheubarth. He was forced to submit to King Henry II and later on Richard I, but he always struggled to overcome the English supremacy.

Illusions 20

Guy stared at Rhobert for a moment, surprised. He didn't know what he had expected but not….this. Perhaps he should have known the young abbot good enough to know that he would not condemn him. – And then he did something that surprised him himself. "It is good to have a friend, Rhobert."

During the following weeks Rhobert learned the rest of Guy's past. "I won't sugarcoat what you did. Some of these things were terrible and you had to pay dearly….Did you happen to know that the famous King David from the Bible committed a murder?"

Guy had not known and was flabbergasted when Rhobert told him the story. Who would have thought this…King David, a murderer because of a beautiful woman he had seen bathing. Because of a woman….Marian…His face wore an expression Rhobert knew to interpret. There were longing and hopelessness he had seen so often in the face of his new friend. This woman's betrayal had wounded him deeply and dealing with her pity now….

What would you do, if you could start all over again, Guy?" Rhobert asked one day. Guy himself had thought about it many times. The monastery was a silent place and when he lay down in his room at night, he had often pondered his past."

"I would change many things, but I can't regret having assassinated the King."

Rhobert didn't reply anything. He had not expected that some weeks in a monastery and under his influence would extinguish a whole life of violence. Perhaps he could be grateful for the change in Guy he had seen himself.

"Hatred is a bitter root and it harms oneself, Guy. …Have you…have you ever thought of remaining here in the monastery?

Guy knew what Rhobert meant and he was tempted to take him up at his word. It was peaceful here although he didn't know what to do with the God Rhobert served. He had come to love the silence in the monastery and knew he was accepted. Of course sometimes there was some friction or petty jealousy, but, as Rhobert had pointed out, there was no paradise on earth.

"I'm not the most pious of monks and have even some doubts concerning a number of dogmas," Rhobert added after a while. "But on the other hand I have found that this way I had not intended to go, was good for me. I didn't want to become a monk, only was sure that I didn't want to be a warrior, and here I am. Perhaps it can be similar with you."

Eventually Guy shook his head. „I would be poor because I don't have the opportunity to become rich, I would be chaste because the woman I loved didn't reciprocate my love and I have obeyed my whole life – and look what it has brought me."

"I just thought so," Rhobert replied and nodded, then laughed. "But nevertheless I wanted to ask you, just in case…and who should I play chess with in future?" Somewhat more serious he continued. "What will you do then? You're an Englishman and this will be a problem for you here in Wales. People hate everything that has to do with England and Lord Rhys won't hire you as a soldier. And you don't even talk our language properly." His eyes gleamed mischievously. "But you will!"

Guy grimaced; of course he knew that Rhobert was right; he had to learn the language, but Welsh was unpronounceable.

Rhobert grinned. "Let's face it; you're not overly talented."

Guy laughed and this was something Rhobert liked very much; probably he hadn't laughed much in the past.

Having a friend around him who seemed to understand him was new to the abbot. His father had loved him and his brothers had liked him; for his mother he would always remain the little one, even there was nothing to mother with a grown man who topped her by twenty inches. Nevertheless he had always been different and this had been a burden to him. And even here, in the quiet of the monastery, he was aware of being different. Neither had he been put into a monastery as a child because the family didn't have enough money to raise another child, nor had he felt a vocation to become a monk. Of Course, the brothers knew the prayers, liturgy and Mass by heart, but many of them could not read or write and he couldn't share his love of books with them. It was odd, he and Guy was as different as they come, but there was a kind of spiritual kinship as he had called it for lack of a better word.

Rhobert shook his head, musing; perhaps one of his brothers could help, although…If Robert thought of Griffin taking an Englishman as his soldier….no, this was not possible…

A letter from the Bishop. Without having the gift of prophecy, Rhobert was able to predict why the Bishop had called him and what he would have to say.

Wasn't the death of Morthwyl a wonderful opportunity for Rhobert's brother Griffin, who was their father's heir, to donate a church? And wasn't it his duty to point out to Griffin what he could do for his father's salvation?

Rhobert knew that the Bishop was not content with him. Obviously, Cadarn had expected more gratitude for the appointment as an abbot, maybe even gratitude in coin. But even if Rhobert's father had suggested this appointment, the Bishop had been wrong about him. He would never have bribed someone. He asked and you were free to do to his bidding or to reject.

And now, once more, he was called to the Bishop…

Before evening Mass Rhobert had told the brothers that he would travel to St. David's, later he talked to Guy. "I will leave in the morning; another call from the Bishop I cannot avoid." He sighed. "The journey to Bishop Cadarn is certainly a trial…humility and obedience, you know. It will probably two weeks until I return.

I will accompany you," guy said abruptly. "Perhaps I can find work in St. David's. I'm very grateful for your friendship, Rhobert, but I cannot stay forever. Brother Angor told me that you use to travel alone. I know that the journey might not be safe even for a monk." Then he grinned. "And now that I know that you cannot stand the sight of blood, I cannot let you go alone."

Rhobert saw Guy's determination; he would miss his friend, but he knew that he was right. He nodded and then said. "Wait here!" he left the room and returned with a big knife. "This is from the kitchen; actually it's for cutting meat…Guy, promise me that you will use it for defence only."

"I promise." He took the knife and tucked it in his belt. Rhobert looked at his friend. "You are looking not much different than before, but somehow I can see the warrior in you; it's in your blood. You were probably right; you would not have been a good monk."

The next morning the friends left for St.David's. Rhobert had given some garments to Guy the brothers had shortened and a big ham was stowed in a bad. "I would give you the donkey as well, but it belongs to the monastery," Rhobert said apologetically. Guy smiled. "Your friendship is the most precious I have had in my life. You may keep the donkey."

The forests and hills of Wales seemed to be endless and Rhobert took the opportunity to teach his friend some Welsh words and idioms. So far they had not met a living soul and the next village was far away. Guy heard the twittering of the birds and the rustling in the grass and in the bushes when they drew near and startled a fox or a deer. But suddenly he heard a sound that was somehow….different. This was not a scared animal, this was…. He jerked his knife out of the belt and at that very moment three men burst out of the scrub, two of them swinging clubs and a third one a big knife. They had seen Rhobert's monk's habit and knew that monks were not able to fight and thus easy prey. Noticing Guy's knife, they stopped short and this split second was sufficient for Guy to kick the knife out of the brigand's hand. Robbed of his weapon, the man took to his heels.

Rhobert had slipped from the donkey more quickly than one would have expected of such a big man. "Lord, forgive me," he murmured briefly and then a punch incapacitated the second robber. "Rhobert, look out!" he heard Guy cry out and turned around quickly. He heard a gurgling sound as the third man, Guy's knife in his heart, collapsed. Then everything went black.

"What….what?" With an effort, he sat up.

"You fainted. The robber would have clubbed you any moment on the head and I threw my knife. The sight of his blood…."

Rhobert was still a little shaky, but he walked over to the two men lying in the grass. One of them was still unconscious and the other was lying there, covered with a cloak. Rhobert understood that it was not piety that had made Guy cover the corpse but the knowledge that his friend would probably faint again if he saw the blood; he grimaced. The young abbot spoke a short prayer for the dead man, while the other robber began to groan, obwiously coming to his senses. He opened his eyes but dared not get up. Haltingly, he gazed at Rhobert and Guy, who looked down at him.

"I think you are well aware what has become of your crony. A life cannot be restored. You may go…But remember that those who sow the wind will reap the whirlwind." The man didn't need to be told twice. Quick as lightning he was up and away, disappearing in the bushes without even glancing at his dead cully.

"Do you think he will learn something from it?" Guy asked.

„I don't think so," Rhobert replied sombrely. "He didn't care that his friend was dead; he didn't even look at him. Probably he considers us dimwits for letting him go."

Guy nodded and they continued their journey, mostly in silence. Three days later they arrived late at night in St. David's, tired and exhausted.