“He told them, in that large way of his, that they kept their own consciences, that they must do, of course, what seemed to them best. And so they will, says Owain, what seems to them best for their own skins! They’ll bend their necks and go with the victor. But here’s what counts and what Owain has in mind. Ranulf of Chester is well aware of all this, and knows by now that Gilbert Prestcote is dead and this shire, he thinks, is in confusion, and the upshot is he’s probing south, towards Shropshire and over into Wales, pouring men into his forward garrisons and feeling his way ahead by easy stages.” And what does Owain ask of us?” questioned Hugh, with kindling brightness.
“He says, if you will come north with a fair force, show your hand all along the Cheshire border, and reinforce Oswestry and Whitchurch and every other fortress up there, you will be helping both yourself and him, and he will do as much for you against the common enemy. And he says he’ll come to the border at Rhyd-y-Croesau by Oswestry two days from now, about sunset, if you’re minded to come and speak with him there.”
“Very firmly so minded!” said Hugh heartily, and rose to embrace his glowing cousin round the shoulders, and haul him out about the business of meeting Owain’s challenge and invitation, with the strongest force possible from a beleaguered shire.
That Owain had given them only two and a half days in which to muster, provide cover for the town and castle with a depleted garrison, and get their host into the north of the shire in time for the meeting on the border, was rather an earnest of the ease and speed with which Owain could move about his own mountainous land than a measure of the urgency of their mutual watch. Hugh spent the rest of that day making his dispositions in Shrewsbury and sending out his call for men to those who owed service. At dawn the next day his advance party would leave, and he himself with the main body by noon. There was much to be done in a matter of hours.
Lady Prestcote was also marshalling her servants and possessions in her high, bleak apartments, ready to leave next morning for the most easterly and peaceful of her manors. She had already sent off one string of pack-ponies with three of her men-servants. But while she was in town it was sensible to purchase such items as she knew to be in short supply where she was bound, and among other commodities she had requested a number of dried herbs from Cadfael’s store. Her lord might be dead and in his tomb, but she had still an honour to administer, and for her son’s sake had every intention of proving herself good at it. Men might die, but the meats necessary to the living would still require preservatives, salts and spices to keep them good and palatable. The boy was given, also, to a childish cough in spring, and she wanted a jar of Cadfael’s herbal rub for his chest. Between them, Gilbert Prestcote the younger and domestic cares would soon fill up the gap, already closing, where Gilbert Prestcote the elder had been.
There was no real need for Cadfael to deliver the herbs and medicines in person, but he took advantage of the opportunity as much to satisfy his curiosity as to enjoy the walk and the fresh air on a fine, if blustery, March day. Along the Foregate, over the bridge spanning a Severn muddied land turgid from the thaw in the mountains, in through the town gate, up the long, steep curve of the Wyle, and gently downhill from the High Cross to the castle gatehouse, he went with eyes and ears alert, stopping many times to exchange greetings and pass the time of day. And everywhere men were talking of Anion’s flight, and debating whether he would get clean away or be hauled back before night in a halter…
Hugh’s muster was not yet common gossip in the town, though by nightfall it surely would be. But as soon as Cadfael entered the castle wards it was plain, by the purposeful bustle everywhere, that something of importance was in hand. The smith and the fletchers were hard at work, so were the grooms, and store-wagons were being loaded to follow stolidly after the faster horse, and foot-men. Cadfael delivered his herbs to the maid who came down to receive them, and went looking for Hugh. He found him directing the stalling of commandeered horses in the stables.
“You’re moving, then? Northward?” said Cadfael, watching without surprise. “And making quite a show, I see.”
“With luck, it need be only a show,” said Hugh, breaking his concentration to give his friend a warm sidelong smile.
“Is it Chester feeling his oats?” Hugh laughed and told him. “With Owain one side of the border and me the other, he should think twice. He’s no more than trying his arm. He knows Gilbert is gone, but me he does not know. Not yet!”
“High time he should know Owain,” observed Cadfael. “Men of sense have measured and valued him some while since, I fancy. And Ranulf is no fool, though I wouldn’t say he’s not capable of folly, blown up by success as he is. The wisest man in his cups may step too large and fall on his face.” And he asked, alert to all the sounds about him, and all the shadows that patterned the cobbles: “Do your Welsh pair know where you’re bound, and why, and who sent you word?” He had lowered his voice to ask it, and Hugh, without need of a reason, did the same. “Not from me. I’ve had no time to spare for civilities. But they’re at large. Why?” He did not turn his head; he had noted where Cadfael was looking.
“Because they’re bearing down on us, the pair in harness. And in anxiety.” Hugh made their approach easier, waving into the groom’s hands the thickset grey he had been watching about the cobbles, and turning naturally to withdraw from the stables as from a job finished for the present. And there they were, Elis and Eliud, shoulders together as though they had been born in one linked birth, moving in on him with drawn brows and troubled eyes.
“My lord Beringar…” It was Eliud who spoke for them, the quiet, the solemn, the earnest one. “You’re moving to the border? There’s threat of war? Is it with Wales?” To the border, yes,” said Hugh easily, “there to meet with the prince of Gwynedd. The same that bade you and all your company here bear your souls in patience and work with me for justice concerning the matter you know of. No, never fret! Owain Gwynedd lets me know that both he and I have a common interest in the north of this shire, and a common enemy trying his luck there. Wales is in no danger from me and my shire, I believe, in no danger from Wales. At least,” he added, reconsidering briskly, “not from Gwynedd.” The cousins looked along wide, straight shoulders at each other, measuring thoughts. Elis said abruptly: “My lord, but keep an eye to Powys. They… we,” he corrected in a gasp of disgust, “we went to Lincoln under the banner of Chester. If it’s Chester now, they’ll know in Caus as soon as you move north. They may think it time… think it safe… The ladies there at Godric’s Ford…”
“A parcel of silly women,” said Cadfael musingly into his cowl, but audibly, “and old and ugly into the bargain.” The round, ingenuous face under the tangle of black curls flamed from neck to brow, but did not lower its eyes or lose its fixed intensity. “I’m confessed and shriven of all manner of follies,” said Elis sturdily, “that among them. Only do keep a watch on them! I mean it! That failure will rankle, they may still venture.”
“I had thought of it,” said Hugh patiently. “I have no mind to strip this border utterly of men.”