Alarmed at the sight of the armed soldiers, she relaxed when she recognised Gervase, and his warm smile of greeting reassured her. Gytha came out of the door and Ralph was able to make a full appraisal of her before emitting a low murmur of approval.
His soldiers were also struck by the unexpected sight of a lovely young woman emerging from such a mean hovel.
Gervase introduced Ralph Delchard to her and she eyed him warily. His candid smile of admiration was rather disturbing.
‘What do you want?’ she asked.
‘Your help,’ answered Ralph, astonishing her with his knowledge of her language. ‘And we have ridden a long way to ask for it, Gytha.’
‘You do not need to tell her that,’ said Gervase. ‘Gytha has walked to Chester and back twice already this week. She knows exactly how long a distance it is.’
‘How can I help you?’ she wondered.
Gervase explained that they were looking for a woman in a certain part of the forest but had no idea who she was. He gave the few facts about her that he possessed but did not divulge their reason for wishing to see her. Gytha guessed that they wanted to question the woman about something and she became defensive, instinctively opposing the wishes of Norman soldiers.
It took time for Gervase to persuade her of the importance of their mission.
‘I do not know this person,’ she said bluntly.
‘Can you at least take us to that part of the forest?’ coaxed Gervase. ‘We would be very grateful.’
‘Beollan would be a surer guide.’
‘Where is he?’
‘Putting flowers on the grave. I have just come back from the churchyard myself. Beollan will soon follow.’
‘Let us meet him on the way.’
Gervase dismounted and offered his horse to her but Gytha was too embarrassed to accept his invitation in front of the others.
Instead, she set off purposefully and they trailed along behind her, Gervase still on foot, Ralph watching the bob of her head and the beguiling swing of her hips. When they met Beollan near the church, he was frightened by the sight of the soldiers and all but bolted. His sister had to grab him to keep him there and the two of them had a conversation that was far too breathless and hasty for Ralph to understand. He turned to Gervase for elucidation.
‘Beollan will take us,’ said the latter. ‘As long as we can guarantee his safety and that of Gytha.’
‘I will do more than that,’ conceded Ralph, taking a purse from his belt and extracting a coin. ‘If he leads us to the woman in question, there will be a reward.’
He held up the coin and Beollan’s hesitation vanished.
With Gytha beside him, the boy loped along a series of trails that were sometimes so narrow and overhung with leaves that they had to plunge into dark tunnels before emerging once again into sunlight.
Brother and sister seemed tireless as they covered mile after mile.
When they reached a patch of open land, Beollan finally paused for breath, hands on his knees as he bent double. Gytha exchanged a few panted sentences with him then turned to the others.
‘The cottage is nearby,’ she said, pointing a finger. ‘An old woman lives there alone. Beollan is not sure if she is the person you seek but she is the only one in this part of the forest who answers the description you gave.’
‘Thank you, Gytha,’ said Gervase.
‘One thing more.’
‘Yes?’
‘She is Welsh.’
Ralph Delchard could not resist another jest.
‘Does she have a bow and arrow?’
*
*
*
Having held his council of war, the Earl of Chester now sought the blessing of the Church. It was not easily forthcoming.
‘I oppose violence of any kind,’ said a querulous Bishop Robert.
‘Start another war and where will it end?’
‘In victory for us,’ Hugh assured him.
‘At what terrible cost, my lord?’
‘That remains to be seen.’
‘Many lives will be lost.’
‘Even more will be saved,’ said the earl. ‘As I see it, a stark choice confronts us. We either wait until the Welsh launch an attack on us here or we strike first and rout them before their assault has gathered momentum.’
‘Neither course of action commends itself to me.’
Hugh was sarcastic. ‘What do you propose as an alternative, Robert? Abject surrender? Or do we abandon the city and retreat with all the belongings we can carry?’
‘I fear for my cathedral,’ said the other.
‘I fear for my county!’
Earl confronted bishop in the hall at the castle. Robert de Limesey had repaired there in haste to implore that his beloved cathedral be saved from possible demolition only to find Hugh in warlike mood. Unable to condone military action, the bishop only succeeded in enraging the earl and decided to bow out of the debate altogether.
Archdeacon Frodo immediately came to his rescue by taking his place in the discussion, beginning with a conciliatory smile then speaking with quiet respect.
‘My lord,’ he said, rubbing his palms together, ‘the decision lies with you. We acknowledge that. The Church can only advise and we do that with the deference that is due to you. Bishop Robert and I are extremely conscious of the debt which we — and the whole city — owe to you for protecting us so well over the years. Your policy has been as wise as it is effective.’
‘I am glad that you appreciate that,’ growled Hugh.
‘We do, my lord.’
‘Then why does Robert come bleating about his cathedral?’
‘The bishop is merely representing our point of view,’ said Frodo softly, ‘and I am sure that Brother Gerold would endorse it. He would no more wish to see Chester cathedral destroyed than watch his own chapel razed to the ground.’
‘That will never happen!’
‘We pray that it will not.’
‘There will be no threat to the chapel or the cathedral if we strike first and put the Welsh army to flight. They will be completely disabled.’
‘For the time being, my lord.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The Welsh have been disabled many times but they have a strange capacity for rebuilding their forces. No matter how many battles you win, the war somehow drags on. That is what concerns Bishop Robert and myself.’
‘Who asked for your opinion, Frodo?’
‘It is irrelevant here,’ said the other with another smile of appeasement. ‘Authorised by Bishop Robert, I merely offer the Church’s view. We are doves of peace, my lord.’
‘I am a hawk of war.’
‘There are more of us in the sky. From what I hear, the Church is not alone in advocating restraint. Your own close advisers warned against intemperate action.’
‘That was before my messenger was killed on the road to Rhuddlan Castle.’ Hugh took a step towards him. ‘Who told you of our secret deliberations?’
‘Such things are difficult to keep private, my lord.’
‘Is there a Church informer among my barons?’
‘There are several Christians.’
Hugh was stung. ‘I am one myself, Frodo.’
‘That is why we feel able to appeal to you.’
‘In the spirit of Christian fellowship,’ added Robert. ‘Before you commit yourself to war, consult with Brother Gerold. He will surely take our part. Yet one more dove.’
‘The hour of the hawk has come,’ insisted Hugh, striding round the table to take up a position in front of his chair. ‘This whole business began with a hawk being brought down from the sky.
Doves of peace cannot avenge that outrage nor can they atone for the murder of Raoul Lambert. It is time to remove the hoods from the hawks of war.’
‘Do that and you lose all control,’ cautioned Frodo.
‘It is the only way to impose control.’
‘Bishop Robert and I view it differently.’
‘I have grown accustomed to your poor eyesight.’ The earl waved a contemptuous arm. ‘Away with the pair of you! If you will not bless our mission, do not hinder it. Scurry back to your precious cathedral and protect it with an odour of sanctity.’