Read Online Brother Cadfael 20: Brother Cadfael's Penance by Ellis Peters - Free Book Online
Authors: Ellis Peters
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raise a point, in all humility..."
The last quality the young and impetuous should lay claim to, but at least he was trying.
"There are some outstanding minor matters which might tend to reconciliation, if they could be cleared up now. Even agreement on a detail must surely tend to agreement on greater things. There are prisoners held on both sides. While we are at truce for this good purpose would it not be just and right to declare a general release?"
A murmur arose from partisans of both factions, and grew into a growl. No, neither of them would concede that, to put back into the opposing ranks good fighting men at present disarmed and out of the reckoning. The empress swept the idea aside with a gesture of her hand. "These are matters to be dealt with in the terms of peace," she said, "not priorities."
The king, for once in agreement upon not agreeing, said firmly: "We are here first to come to terms upon the main issue. This is a matter to be discussed and negotiated afterwards."
"My lord bishop," said Yves, fixing sensibly upon the one ally upon whom he could rely in considering the plight of captives, "if such an exchange must be deferred, at least may I ask for information concerning certain knights and squires made prisoner at Faringdon this past summer. There are some among them held by unnamed captors. Should not their friends and kin, who wish to ransom them, at least be provided that opportunity?"
"If they are held for gain," said the bishop, with a slight edge of distaste in his voice, "surely the holder will be the first to offer them for his profit. Do you say this has not been done?"
"Not in all cases, my lord. I think," said Yves clearly, "that some are held not for gain but for hate, in personal revenge for some real or imagined offence. There are many private feuds bred out of faction."
The king shifted in his chair impatiently, and repeated loudly: "With private feuds we are not concerned. This is irrelevant here. What is one man's fate beside the fate of the realm?"
"Every man's fate is the fate of the realm," cried Yves boldly. "If injustice is done to one, it is one too many. The injury is to all, and the whole realm suffers."
Over the growing hubbub of many voices busily crying one another down, the bishop raised authoritative hands. "Silence! Whether this is the time and place or no, this young man speaks truth. A fair law should apply to all." And to Yves, standing his ground apprehensive but determined: "You have, I think, a particular case in mind. One of those made prisoner after Faringdon fell."
"Yes, my lord. And held in secret. No ransom has been asked, nor do his friends, or my uncle, his lord, know where to enquire for his price. If his Grace would but tell me who holds him..."
"I did not parcel out my prisoners under my own seal," blared the king, growing louder and more restive, but as much because he wanted his dinner, Cadfael judged, as because he had any real interest in what was delaying him. It was characteristic of him that, having gained a large number of valuable prizes, he should throw the lot of them to his acquisitive supporters and walk away from the bargaining, leaving them to bicker over the distribution of the booty. "I knew few of them, and remember no names. I left them to my castellan to hand out fairly."
Yves took that up eagerly, before the point could be lost. "Your Grace, your castellan of Faringdon is here present. Be so generous as to let him give me an answer." And he launched the question before it could be forbidden. "Where is Olivier de Bretagne, and in whose keeping?"
He had kept his voice deliberate and cool, but he hurled the name like a lance for all that, and not at the king, but clean across the open space that divided the factions, into the face of de Soulis. Stephen's tolerance he needed if he was to get an answer. Stephen could command where no one else could do more than request.
And Stephen's patience was wearing thin, not so much with
The last quality the young and impetuous should lay claim to, but at least he was trying.
"There are some outstanding minor matters which might tend to reconciliation, if they could be cleared up now. Even agreement on a detail must surely tend to agreement on greater things. There are prisoners held on both sides. While we are at truce for this good purpose would it not be just and right to declare a general release?"
A murmur arose from partisans of both factions, and grew into a growl. No, neither of them would concede that, to put back into the opposing ranks good fighting men at present disarmed and out of the reckoning. The empress swept the idea aside with a gesture of her hand. "These are matters to be dealt with in the terms of peace," she said, "not priorities."
The king, for once in agreement upon not agreeing, said firmly: "We are here first to come to terms upon the main issue. This is a matter to be discussed and negotiated afterwards."
"My lord bishop," said Yves, fixing sensibly upon the one ally upon whom he could rely in considering the plight of captives, "if such an exchange must be deferred, at least may I ask for information concerning certain knights and squires made prisoner at Faringdon this past summer. There are some among them held by unnamed captors. Should not their friends and kin, who wish to ransom them, at least be provided that opportunity?"
"If they are held for gain," said the bishop, with a slight edge of distaste in his voice, "surely the holder will be the first to offer them for his profit. Do you say this has not been done?"
"Not in all cases, my lord. I think," said Yves clearly, "that some are held not for gain but for hate, in personal revenge for some real or imagined offence. There are many private feuds bred out of faction."
The king shifted in his chair impatiently, and repeated loudly: "With private feuds we are not concerned. This is irrelevant here. What is one man's fate beside the fate of the realm?"
"Every man's fate is the fate of the realm," cried Yves boldly. "If injustice is done to one, it is one too many. The injury is to all, and the whole realm suffers."
Over the growing hubbub of many voices busily crying one another down, the bishop raised authoritative hands. "Silence! Whether this is the time and place or no, this young man speaks truth. A fair law should apply to all." And to Yves, standing his ground apprehensive but determined: "You have, I think, a particular case in mind. One of those made prisoner after Faringdon fell."
"Yes, my lord. And held in secret. No ransom has been asked, nor do his friends, or my uncle, his lord, know where to enquire for his price. If his Grace would but tell me who holds him..."
"I did not parcel out my prisoners under my own seal," blared the king, growing louder and more restive, but as much because he wanted his dinner, Cadfael judged, as because he had any real interest in what was delaying him. It was characteristic of him that, having gained a large number of valuable prizes, he should throw the lot of them to his acquisitive supporters and walk away from the bargaining, leaving them to bicker over the distribution of the booty. "I knew few of them, and remember no names. I left them to my castellan to hand out fairly."
Yves took that up eagerly, before the point could be lost. "Your Grace, your castellan of Faringdon is here present. Be so generous as to let him give me an answer." And he launched the question before it could be forbidden. "Where is Olivier de Bretagne, and in whose keeping?"
He had kept his voice deliberate and cool, but he hurled the name like a lance for all that, and not at the king, but clean across the open space that divided the factions, into the face of de Soulis. Stephen's tolerance he needed if he was to get an answer. Stephen could command where no one else could do more than request.
And Stephen's patience was wearing thin, not so much with
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