Brother Cadfael opened one considerate eye to watch her draw the door to softly after her, and could not take great comfort. But with all his heart he hoped and prayed that God was watching with him.
In the pallid first light before dawn Eliud stirred and quivered, and his eyelids began to flutter stressfully as though he laboured hard to open them and confront the day, but had not yet the strength. Cadfael drew his stool close, leaning to wipe the seamed brow and working lips, and having an eye to the ewer he had ready to hand for when the tormented body needed it. But that was not the unease that quickened Eliud now, rousing out of his night’s respite. His eyes opened wide, staring into the wooden roof of the cell and beyond, and shortened their range only when Cadfael leaned down to him braced to speak, seeing desperate intelligence in the hazel stare, and having something ripe within him that must inevitably be said.
He never needed to say it. It was taken out of his mouth.
‘I have got my death,’ said the thread of a voice that issued from Eliud’s dry lips, ‘get me a priest. I have sinned, I must deliver all those others who suffer doubt…’ Not his own deliverance, not that first, only the deliverance of all who laboured under the same suspicion.
Cadfael stooped closer. The gold, green eyes were straining too far, they had not recognised him. They did so now and lingered, wondering. ‘You are the brother who came to Tregeiriog. Welsh?’ Something like a sorrowful smile mellowed the desperation of his face. ‘I do remember. It was you brought word of him… Brother, I have my death in my mouth, whether he take me now of this grief or leave me for worse… A debt… I pledged it…’ He essayed, briefly, to raise his right hand, being strongly right, handed, and gave up the attempt with a whining intake of breath at the pain it cost him and shifted, pitiless, to the left, feeling at his neck where the coiled rope should have been. Cadfael laid a hand to the lifted wrist, and eased it back into the covers of the bed.
‘Hush, lie still! I am here to command, there’s no haste. Rest, take thought, ask of me what you will, bid me whatever you will. I’m here, I shan’t leave you.’ He was believed. The slight body under the brychans seemed to sink and slacken in one great sigh. There was a small silence. The hazel eyes hung upon him with a great weight of trust and sorrow, but without fear. Cadfael offered a drop of wine laced with honey, but the braced head turned aside. ‘I want confession,’ said Eliud faintly but clearly, ‘of my mortal sin. Hear me!’ ‘I am no priest,’ said Cadfael. ‘Wait, he shall be brought to you.’ ‘I cannot wait. Do I know my time? If I live,’ he said simply, ‘I will tell it again and again, as long as there’s need, I am done with all conceal.’ They had neither of them observed the door of the cell slowly opening, it was done so softly and shyly, by one troubled with dawn voices, but as hesitant to disturb those who might wish to be private as unwilling to neglect those who might be in need. In her own as yet unreasoned and unquestioned happiness Melicent moved as one led by angelic inspiration, exalted and humbled, requiring to serve. Her bloodied habit was shed, she had a plain woollen gown on her. She hung in the half, open doorway, afraid to advance or withdraw, frozen into stillness and silence because the voice from the bed was so urgent and uncomforted.
‘In choosing me to be your witness?’ said Cadfael gently. ‘And you had to knock over the stool to make me look closely enough, even then. Your devil still had you by the hand, for if you had chosen another there might never have been the cry of murder that kept you both prisoners.’ ‘It was my angel, then, no devil. For I am glad to be rid of all lies and known for what I am. I would never have let it fall on Elis, nor on any other man. But I am human and fearful,’ he said inflexibly, ‘and I hoped to go free. Now that is solved. One way or another, I shall give a life for a life. I would not have let Elis bear it… Tell her so!’ There was no need, she already knew. But the head of the cot was towards the door, and Eliud had seen nothing but the rough vault of the cell, and Cadfael’s stooping face. The lamp had not wavered, and did not waver now, as Melicent withdrew from the threshold very softly and carefully, drawing the door to by inches after her.
‘They have taken away my halter,’ said Eliud, his eyes wandering languidly over the bare little room. ‘They’ll have to find me another one now.’ When it was all told he lay drained, very weak and utterly biddable, eased of hope and grateful for contrition. He let himself be handled for healing, though with a drear smile that said Cadfa
el wasted his pains on a dead man. He did his best to help the handling, and bore pain without a murmur when his wounds were probed and cleansed and dressed afresh. He tried to swallow the draughts that were held to his lips, and offered thanks for even the smallest service. When he drifted into an uneasy sleep, Cadfael went to find the two men Hugh had left to run his errands, and sent one of them riding to Shrewsbury with the news that would bring Hugh back again in haste. When he returned into the precinct, Melicent was waiting for him in the doorway. She read in his face the mixture of dismay and resignation he felt at having to tell over again what had been ordeal enough to listen to in the first place, and offered instant and firm reassurance.
‘I know. I heard. I heard you talking, and his voice… I thought you might need someone to fetch and carry for you, so I came to ask. I heard what Eliud said. What is to be done now?’ For all her calm, she was bewildered and lost between father killed and lover saved, and the knowledge of the fierce affection those two foster, brothers had for each other, and every way was damage and every escape was barred. ‘I have told Elis,’ she said. ‘Better we should all know what we are about. God knows I am so confused now, I doubt if I know right from wrong. Will you come to Elis? He’s fretting for Eliud.’ Cadfael went with her in perplexity as great as hers. Murder is murder, but if a life can pay the debt for a life, there was Elis to level the account. Was yet another life demanded? Another death justifiable? He sat down with her beside the bed, confronted by an Elis wide awake and in full possession of his senses, for all he hesitated on the near edge of fever.
‘Melicent has told me,’ said Elis, clutching agitatedly at Cadfael’s sleeve. ‘But is it true? You don’t know him as I do! Are you sure he is not making up this story, because he fears I may yet be charged? May he not even believe I did it? It would be like him to shoulder all to cover me. So he has done in old times when we were children, so he might even now. You saw, you saw what he has already done for me! Should I be here alive now but for Eliud? I can’t believe so easily…’ Cadfael went about hushing him the most practical way, by examining the dressing on his arm and finding it dry, unstained and causing him no pain, let well alone for the time being. The tight binding round his damaged rib had caused him some discomfort and shortness of breath, and might be slightly slackened to ease him. And whatever dose was offered him he swallowed almost absently, his eyes never shifting from Cadfael’s face, demanding answers to desperate questions. And there would be small comfort for him in the naked truth.
‘Son,’ said Cadfael,’there’s no virtue in fending off truth. The tale Eliud has told fits in every particular and it is truth. Sorry I am to say it, but true it is. Put all doubts out of your head.’ They received that with the same white calm and made no further protest. After a long silence Melicent said: ‘I think you knew it before.’ ‘I did know it, from the moment I set eyes on Einon ab Ithel’s brocaded saddle, cloth. That, and nothing else, could have killed Gilbert, and it was Eliud whose duty it was to care for Einon’s horse and harness. Yes, I knew. But he made his confession willingly, eagerly, before I could question or accuse him. That must count to him for virtue, and speak on his side.’ ‘God knows,’ said Melicent, shutting her pale face hard between her hands, as if to hold her wits together, ‘on what side I dare speak, who am so torn. All I know is that Eliud cannot, does not carry all the guilt. In this matter, which of us is innocent?’ ‘You are!’ said Elis fiercely. ‘How did you fail? But if I had taken a little thought to see how things were with him and with Cristina… I was too easy, too light, too much in love with myself to take heed. I’d never dreamed of such a love, I didn’t know… I had all to learn.’ It had been no easy lesson for him, but he had it by heart now.
‘If only I had had more faith in myself and my father,’ said Melicent, ‘we could have sent word honestly into Wales, to Owain Gwynedd and to my father, that we two loved and entreated leave to marry…’ ‘If only I had been as quick to see what ailed Eliud as he always was to put trouble away from me…’ ‘If none of us ever fell short, or put a foot astray,’ said Cadfael sadly, ‘everything would be good in this great world, but we stumble and fall, every one. We must deal with what we have. He did it, and all we must share the gall.’ Out of a drear hush Elis asked: ‘What will become of him? Will there be mercy? Surely he need not die?’ ‘It rests with the law, and with the law I have no weight.’ ‘Melicent relented to me,’ said Elis, ‘before ever she knew I was clean of her father’s blood…’ ‘Ah, but I did know!’ she said quickly. ‘I was sick in mind that ever I doubted.’ ‘And I love her the more for it. And Eliud has made confession when no man was accusing, and that must count for virtue to him, as you said, and speak on his side.’ ‘That and all else that speaks for him,’ promised Cadfael fervently, ‘shall be urged in his defence. I will see to that.’ ‘But you are not hopeful,’ said Elis bleakly, watching his face with eyes all too sharp.
He would have liked to deny it, but to what end, when Eliud himself had accepted and embraced, with resignation and humility, the inevitable death? Cadfael made what comfort he could, short of lying, and left them together. The last glimpse, as he closed the door, was of two braced, wary faces following his going with a steady, veiled stare, their minds shuttered and secret. Only the fierce alliance of hand clasping hand on the brychan betrayed them.
Hugh Beringar came next day in a hurry, listened in dour silence as Eliud laboured with desolate patience through the story yet again, as he had already done for the old priest who said Mass for the sisters. As Eliud’s soul faced humbly toward withdrawal from the world, Cadfael noted his misused body began to heal and find ease, very slowly, but past any doubt. His mind consented to dying, his body resolved to live. The wounds were clean, his excellent youth and health fought hard, whether for or against him who could say?
‘Well, I am listening,’ said Hugh somewhat wearily, pacing the bank of the brook with Cadfael at his side. ‘Say what you have to say.’ But Cadfael had never seen his face grimmer.
‘He made full and free confession,’ said Cadfael, ‘before ever a finger was pointed at him, as soon as he felt he might die. He was in desperate haste to do justice to all, not merely Elis, who might lie under the shadow of suspicion because of him. You know me, I know you. I have said honestly, I was about to tell him that I knew he had killed. I swear to you he took that word clean out of my mouth. He wanted confession, penance, absolution. Most of all he wanted to lift the threat from Elis and any other who might be overcast.’ ‘I take your word absolutely,’ said Hugh, ‘and it is something. But enough? This was no hot, blood squall blown up in a moment before he could think, it was an old man, wounded and sick, sleeping in his bed.’ ‘It was not planned. He went to reclaim his lord’s cloak. That I am sure is true. But if you think the blood was cold, dear God, how wrong you are! The boy was half, mad with the long bleeding of hopeless love, and had just come to the point of rebellion, and the thread of a life, one he had been nursing in duty!, cut him off from the respite his sudden courage needed. God forgive him, he had hoped Gilbert would die! He has said so honestly. Chance showed him a thread so thin it could be severed by a breath, and before ever he took thought, he blew! He says he has repented of it every moment that has passed since that moment, and I believe it. Did you never, Hugh, do one unworthy thing on impulse, that grieved and shamed you ever after?’ ‘Not to the length of killing an old man in his bed,’ said Hugh mercilessly.
‘No! Nor nothing to match it,’ said Cadfael with a deep sigh and briefer smile. ‘Pardon me, Hugh! I am Welsh and you are English. We Welsh recognise degrees. Theft, theft absolute, without excuse, is our most mortal offence, and therefore we hedge it about with degrees, things which are not theft absolute, taking openly by force, taking in ignorance, taking without leave, providing the offender owns to it, and taking to stay alive, where a beggar has starved three days, no man hangs in Wales for these. Even in dying, even in killing, we acknowledge degrees. We make a distinction between homi
‘God forbid,’ said Hugh,’that I should hurl out of the world any but such as are too vile to be let live in it. And this is no such monster. One mortal error, one single vileness, and a creature barely, what’s his age? Twenty, one? And driven hard, but which of us is not? He shall have his trial and I shall do what I must,’ said Hugh hardly. ‘But I would to God it was taken out of my hands!’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
BEFORE HE LEFT THAT EVENING HE MADE HIS WILL CLEAR for the others. ‘Owain may be pressed, if Chester moves again, he wants his men. I have sent to say that all who are clear now shall leave here the day after tomorrow. I have six good men, at, arms belonging to him in Shrewsbury. They are free, and I shall equip them for their journey home. The day after tomorrow as early as may be, around dawn, they will be here to take Elis ap Cynan with them, back to Tregeiriog.’ ‘Impossible,’ said Cadfael flatly. ‘He cannot yet ride. He has a twisted knee and a cracked rib, besides the arm wound, though that progresses well. He will not ride in comfort for three or four weeks. He will not ride hard or into combat for longer.’ ‘He need not,’ said Hugh shortly. ‘You forget we have horses borrowed from Tudur ap Rhys, rested and ready for work now, and Elis can as well ride in a litter as could Gilbert in far worse condition. I want all the men of Gwynedd safely out of here before I move against Powys, as I mean to. Let’s have one trouble finished and put by before we face another.’ So that was settled and no appeal. Cadfael had expected the order to be received with consternation by Elis, both on Eliud’s account and his own, but after a brief outcry of dismay, suddenly checked, there was a longer pause for thought, while Elis put the matter of his own departure aside, not without a hard, considering look, and turned only to confirm that there was no chance of Eliud escaping trial for murder and very little of any sentence but death being passed upon him. It was a hard thing to accept, but in the end it seemed Elis had no choice but to accept it. A strange, embattled calm had taken possession of the lovers, they had a way of looking at each other as though they shared thoughts that needed no words to be communicated, but were exchanged in a silent code no one else could read. Unless, perhaps, Sister Magdalen understood the language. She herself went about in thoughtful silence and with a shrewd eye upon them both.