Brother Cadfael 09: Dead Man's Ransom by Ellis Peters

'Somehow, somehow, I swear I'll keep you, no matter what I must do to hold you, no matter how many I must fight to clear the way to you. I'll kill whoever comes between us, my love, my dear...'
    'Oh, hush!' she said. 'Don't talk so. That's not for you. There must, there must be some way for us...' But she could see none. They were caught in an inexorable process that would bring Gilbert Prestcote home, and sweep Elis ap Cynan away.
    'We have still a little time,' she whispered, taking heart as best she could. 'They said he is not well, he had wounds barely healed. They'll be a week or two yet.'
    'And you'll still come? You will come? Every day? How should I bear it if I could no longer see you?'
    'I'll come,' she said,'these moments are my life, too. Who knows, something may yet happen to save us.'
    'Oh, God, if we could but stop time! If we could hold back the days, make him take for ever on the journey, and never, never reach Shrewsbury!'
    It was ten days before the next word came from Owain Gwynedd. A runner came in on foot, armed with due authorisation from Einon ab Ithel, who ranked second only to Owain's own penteulu, the captain of his personal guard. The messenger was brought to Hugh in the castle guardroom early in the afternoon; a border man with some business dealings into England, and well acquainted with the language.
    'My lord, I bring greetings from Owain Gwynedd through the mouth of his captain, Einon ab Ithel. I am to tell you that the party lies tonight at Montford, and tomorrow we shall bring you our charge, the lord Gilbert Prestcote. But there is more. The lord Gilbert is still very weak from his wounds and hardships, and for most of the way we have carried him in a litter. All went well enough until this morning, when we had hoped to reach the town and discharge our task in one day. Because of that, the lord Gilbert would ride the last miles, and not be carried like a sick man into his own town.'
    The Welsh would understand and approve that, and not presume to deter him. A man's face is half his armour, and Prestcote would venture any discomfort or danger to enter Shrewsbury erect in the saddle, a man master of himself even in captivity.
    'It was like him and worthy of him,' said Hugh, but scenting what must follow. 'And he tried himself too far. What has happened?'
    'Before we had gone a mile he swooned and fell. Not a heavy fall, but a healed wound in his side has started open again, and he lost some blood. It may be that there was some manner of fit or seizure, more than the mere exertion, for when we took him up and tended him he was very pale and cold. We wrapped him well, Einon ab Ithel swathed him further in his own cloak, and laid him again in the litter, and have carried him back to Montford.'
    'Has he his senses? Has he spoken?' asked Hugh anxiously.
    'As sound in his wits as any man, once he opened his eyes, and speaks clearly, my lord. We would keep him at Montford longer, if need be, but he is set to reach Shrewsbury now, being so near. He may take more harm being vexed, than if we carry him here as he wishes, tomorrow.'
    So Hugh thought, too, and gnawed his knuckles a while pondering what was best. 'Do you think this setback may be dangerous to him? Even mortal?'
    The man shook his head decidedly. 'My lord, though you'll find him a sick man and much fallen and aged, I think he needs only rest and time and good care to be his own man again. But it will not be a quick or an easy return.'
    'Then it had better be here, where he desires to be,' Hugh decided, 'but hardly in these cold, harsh chambers. I would take him to my own house, gladly, but the best nursing will surely be at the abbey, and there you can just as well bear him, and he may be spared being carried helpless through the town. I will bespeak a bed for him in the infirmary there, and see his wife and children into the guest-hall to be near him. Go back now to Einon ab Ithel with my greetings and thanks, and ask him to bring his