Edward Marston - The Hawks of Delamere

God will surely hear our entreaties. Indeed, He may already have done so. Bishop Robert and I discussed the situation at great length. We begin to think that, in His mercy, the Almighty sent us Archdeacon Idwal as the saviour of the hour. His presence here at this time is so crucial that it can only be providential.’

Apoplexy again threatened to engulf Canon Hubert.

The long journey back did nothing to soften Ralph Delchard’s sense of grievance. When they entered the city again, he was still berating himself and his men for letting an old woman elude them so adroitly. Annoyance at one member of the Welsh nation spilled over into a general antipathy. In such a jaundiced mood, Ralph was ready to condemn anyone with even a remote connection with Wales. When he rode in through the castle gates with Gervase Bret and their escort, he was therefore less than overjoyed to be ambushed by a man who typified the whole country.

Archdeacon Idwal swooped on him like a giant bat.

‘I am glad to see you, my lord!’ he cried, as if he were the castellan himself and not merely an unwanted guest. ‘We must talk as a matter of urgency.’

Ralph was brusque. ‘As a matter of even greater urgency, we must not talk. Stand aside, Idwal.’

‘But I wish to see you.’

‘I have been seen. Farewell.’

Without another word, Ralph swung his horse towards the stables and moved swiftly away, leaving Idwal talking to himself.

The escort followed their master but Gervase Bret dismounted to apologise to the stricken Welshman.

‘You will have to excuse his rudeness,’ he said.

‘Can such behaviour merit an excuse, Gervase?’

‘It has been a trying day.’

‘Civility costs nothing,’ said Idwal, wrapping his cloak around himself with dignity. ‘When I offer the hand of friendship, I do not expect to be spurned so.’

‘Pay no attention to it, Archdeacon Idwal.’

‘His dear wife would not treat me with such indifference. Golde remembers how I helped to bring the two of them together in Hereford. She is duly grateful.’ He shrugged off his irritation and stepped in to embrace Gervase. ‘But you may carry my message as easily as the lord Ralph. And it will be all the more appropriate coming from you, Gervase, since you are directly involved in the business.’

‘What business?’

‘Our proposed visit to Gruffydd ap Cynan.’

‘Ours?’

‘You will be there to make sure we are hatching no dread plot against the Earl.’

‘Nevertheless, Earl Hugh will not let you near his prisoner.’

‘Work on him, Gervase.’

‘I will try.’

‘Convince him that I may be able to avert war.’

‘Earl Hugh may not want it averted.’

‘The rest of the city does,’ said Idwal with a dramatic sweep of his hand. ‘So does the Church. The cathedral is outside the city wall. That makes it very vulnerable.’

‘Would a God-fearing people like the Welsh really torch a beautiful cathedral?’

‘They would destroy anything they encountered, Gervase, making no distinctions at all. Such are the fortunes of war. That is why this fire must be extinguished before it gets out of control and burns all of us.’

He explained what he believed he could achieve through a conversation with Gruffydd ap Cynan and Gervase was impressed, promising to add his support to the plea already made to Earl Hugh by Bishop Robert and Archdeacon Frodo. What he could not do was to hold out any hope of success. He had seen enough of the earl to know that he was very much his own man, prone to make impulsive decisions from which nobody could move him.

Having secured Gervase’s help on one matter, Idwal sought his assistance on another. He glanced across at the chapel.

‘Brother Gerold tells me that you are regular in your devotions,’

he recalled.

‘I try to be.’

‘It is to your credit,’ said Idwal. ‘I dare swear that the lord Ralph has yet to see the inside of the chapel.’

‘He is somewhat preoccupied. His wife has joined him.’

‘Then he should be on his knees to thank God for bringing her safely to Chester. These are perilous times in which to travel abroad.’ He lowered his voice. ‘What is your opinion of the chapel?’

‘It is much like any other I have seen in a castle.’

‘More ornate than most?’

‘Probably.’

‘More comfortable? More capacious?’

‘Both, Archdeacon Idwal.’

‘Earl Hugh has obviously spent money on his chapel.’

‘He has spiritual leanings.’

‘Does he?’ said Idwal, raising a mocking eyebrow. ‘Do you mean that he says grace before he boards his latest mistress? Virtue consists in abstaining from vice, not in atoning for it by building churches.’

‘Brother Gerold has put that argument to him.’

‘Not strongly enough.’

‘Gerold is making headway. Slowly, perhaps, but there has been progress. He is endeavouring to lead Earl Hugh along a less sinful path through life. That will take time.’

‘An eternity!’

‘Nobody is better fitted for the task.’

‘True,’ conceded the other. ‘Gerold has many of the attributes of a saint. It is a pity that he is not Welsh. But to return to the chapel. It is supremely well endowed.’

‘Earl Hugh is a wealthy man.’

‘And generous with that wealth, I am pleased to record.’

‘Gerold will endorse that.’

‘Did he show you round the chapel?’

‘Yes,’ said Gervase. ‘I am always interested to see what spiritual provision there is for a garrison. Chaplains usually bring a touch of humanity to a bleak community of soldiers.’

‘If only this community were bleak!’ complained Idwal, eyes rolling in disapproval. ‘But the earl’s generosity is not, alas, confined to the chapel. He appears to keep open house here.

Drinking, gourmandising, hunting, hawking and whoring. Those seem to be the staple pastimes of Chester Castle. Strange conduct for a man who claims to be a personal friend of Anselm of Bee’

‘Earl Hugh has important military duties as well.’

‘As he has just been reminded.’

‘Very forcibly.’

Idwal angled himself so that he could see the chapel out of the corner of his eye. He flashed a disarming grin.

‘What did Gerold show you in the chapel?’ he said.

‘Everything.’

‘He took you into the vestry?’

‘Of course.’

‘And what did you see there, Gervase?’

‘Exactly what I expected to see.’

‘A reliquary, for instance?’

‘Yes,’ said Gervase. ‘It stood on a stout table.’

‘And did Brother Gerold reveal its contents to you?’ asked the other, excitement making his voice tremble slightly. ‘Did he open the reliquary?’

‘No, Archeacon Idwal. We were already late for the banquet.’

‘But he gave you to understand that something of great value was locked away inside it?’

‘Why else have a reliquary?’

‘Precisely!’

‘Brother Gerold invited me to view its contents another time. I will certainly avail myself of that invitation.’

‘Then we must talk further on the subject.’ Idwal gave a short, high laugh then composed his features into a frown of concentration, but Gervase could see the sparkle in the Welshman’s eyes. What did it portend? Border warfare was threatening, movement to and from the city was severely restricted, panic was settling in everywhere. On top of that, Idwal had just been snubbed by Ralph Delchard. Yet the man was exuding delight. Behind the serious frown, Gervase sensed that the archdeacon was chuckling quietly to himself.

In the circumstances, it was a small miracle.

By the time she finally reached the cottage, the old woman was staggering from fatigue. Her face was drawn, her body slack, and her clothes were covered with dirt. Raked by thorns, both hands had rivulets of dried blood on them. She was so exhausted that she had no strength even to speak at first.