Part 20 (1/2)

”I heard him boast of the same,” he said, and I believed him for the way in which he said it.

”How do they think to slay Owen, and wherefore?” I asked, and my blood ran cold at the thought of the treachery that was round him.

Doubtless this Tregoz was back at court.

”In any way that they may compa.s.s, and if in such a way as to stir up war with Ina of Wess.e.x so much the better, as they say. It is revenge for the death of Morgan, and hatred of the Saxon, mixed.”

”Is there any more that I should know?”

”None, Thane. But I have broken no oath in telling you this, as you might think. We outlaws were not bound, for there seemed no need.”

It was strange that he should care to tell me this, being what he was. Once more I minded words of Thorgils--that the knave would beguile Loki himself with fair words. Yet there was somewhat very strange in all the looks and words of the man at this time. But I would not talk longer with him, and I cut his bonds and freed him.

He tried to rise and stretch his cramped limbs, groaning with the pain of them as he did so. And that grew on him so that of a sudden he swooned and fell all his length at my feet, and then I found myself kneeling and chafing the hands of this one who had bound me, so that he should come round the sooner. At last he opened his eyes, and I fetched the horn of strong mead that Howel had bidden his folk hang on my saddle bow when we rode out, and that brought him to himself again. He sat up on the snow and thanked me humbly.

”Now, what will you do?” I said. ”Let me tell you that Thorgils is after you, and that Howel has set a price on your head, or was going to do so. And it is better that you cross the sea no more, for if ever any one of the men of Gerent or Ina catch you your life will be forfeit.”

”I will get me to North Wales or Mercia, Thane, and there will I live honestly, and that I will swear. Only, I will pray you not to tell Howel that I am free.”

”I am like to tell no man,” I answered grimly. ”For I should but be called a soft-hearted fool for my pains.”

”Yet shall you be glad that you freed me. Bid Owen the prince look to the door before ever he opens it. Bid him wear his mail day and night, and never ride unguarded. Let him have one whom he trusts to sleep across his doorway, until Tregoz and his men are all accounted for.”

”Well, then,” I said, ”farewell--as well as you shall deserve hereafter. You best know if you have one safe place left to you in England or in Wales.”

”I was not all so bad until the law hounded me forth from men,” he said. ”I have yet places where I am held as an honest man.”

Now I had enough of him, and I would not ask him more of himself yet I will say that my heart softened somewhat toward him, for I knew that here also he had been well thought of. Almost did I forget how he had treated me, for now that seemed a grudge against Tregoz. Maybe that was all foolishness on my part, but I am not ashamed thereof today, as I was then.

”Stay, have you any weapon?” I said, as I was turning away. ”There are many ills that may befall an unarmed man in a wild country.”

”There was a seax here,” he said, rising stiffly. ”They left it on the ground, that I might see help out of my reach, as it were. Ay, here it is.”

He took it up, and I knew that after all he had felt somewhat as he had made me feel when I saw help close to me and might not have it.

I pitied him, for I knew well what his torture had been. Ay, and I will tell this, that men may know how this terror burnt into me.

Many a time have I let a trapped rat go, because I would not see the agony of dumb helplessness in anything. It frays me. There is no wonder that I set Evan free.

I said no more, but left him staring after me with the seax in his hand, and rode on my way, thinking most of all of the peril that was about Owen, and longing to be back with him that I might guard him. It seemed likely now that Gerent could take all these men whose names I had heard without the least trouble, for they could not deem that their plans were known. Ina would surely let me bide with my foster father till danger to him was past.

So I came into the road that runs along the top of the Ridgeway, and then I knew where I was. I could see the great ness of Tenby far before me across the hills, and presently at a turn in the road I saw Howel and Eric and his men ahead of me. They had taken the stag, and knew that I should make my way back, and so troubled not at all for me.

There Howel and I parted from the Danes, they going back to Tenby, while we returned slowly to Pembroke. And when we came to the palace yard we found a little train of horses and men there, as though some new guests had come in lately.

”I know who these will be,” said Howel. ”You will have company in your homeward crossing. Here is Dunwal of Devon, and his daughter, who have been on pilgrimage to St. Davids, for Christmastide. They knew that Nona returned at this time, and have come hither on the chance of a pa.s.sage home in the s.h.i.+p which brought her. In good time they are, after all.”

Presently I met these folk, and very courteous they were. Dunwal was a tall, very dark, man, who chose to hold that he was beholden to myself for the pa.s.sage home, when he heard why I was sailing so soon. And his daughter was like him in many ways, being perhaps the very darkest damsel I have ever seen, though she was handsome withal. With them was a priest of the old Western Church, a Cornishman, with his outlandish tonsure. He was somewhat advanced in years, and strangely wild looking at times, though silent. He seemed to be Dunwal's chaplain, or else was a friend who had made the pilgrimage with him. His name was Morfed, they told me.

I do not think that I should have noted him much, but that when he heard my Saxon name he scowled heavily, and drew away from me; and presently, when it came to pa.s.s that Howel told Dunwal the news I had brought, I saw his eyes fixed on me in no friendly way as he listened. Nor did he join with his friends in the words of gladness for Owen's return, though indeed I had some thought that theirs might have been warmer. It was almost as if something was held back by the Devon man and his daughter, though why I should think so I could not tell. At all events, their way of receiving the news was not like that of Howel and Nona.

By and by, when we came to sit down at table in the largest room of the palace, bright with fair linen, and silver and gold and gla.s.s vessels before us, and soft and warm under foot with rugs on the tiled floor which hardly needed them, as I thought, there was a guest I was pleased to see. Thorgils had ridden from Tenby at the bidding of the princess, as it seemed, and his first words to me were of a.s.surance that all went well for our sailing. The good s.h.i.+p would be ready for the tide of the morrow night. Pleased enough also he was with the chance of new pa.s.sengers, as may be supposed.