half of Cél Craidd remains. Even if we were mighty warriors, champions each and every one, we could not take back Elfael by force of arms alone.”
Bran glared at her, his brow low and furrowed. Judging from the expressions on the faces around him, Mérian had won solid support for her opinion. “What do you suggest?” he said at last.
Mérian glanced at Tuck. “That is not for me to say, my lord.”
“It seems to me you have said a great deal already, my lady. Why stop now?” He lifted his head to include the rest of the gathering. “Come, speak up, your lord is asking for your counsel. What do you advise?”
“If I may speak freely, my lord,” began Tuck.
“I doubt anything in heaven or earth could prevent you,” remarked Bran. “Speak, priest.”
“Hardheaded Saxon that I am, I have always thought it a good thing that the clerics rule the church and kings rule the realm. That is the way God has ordained it, has He not? Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, to be sure, but give to God the things that are God’s. Like it or not, the Ffreinc—”
“Is there a point to this sermon, Friar?” interrupted Bran.
“Only that we must be prepared to compromise if we are to persuade the abbot and sheriff to accept the peace.”
“Compromise,” repeated Bran dully.
“What sort of compromise?” asked Siarles.
“That any Ffreinc who have settled should be allowed to remain in Elfael under your rule, and that Hugo will remain in charge of the spiritual concerns of the abbey.”
“Let Hugo keep the abbey and I take the fortress—is that what you’re saying?” said Bran.
“In a word, yes, my lord.”
“Why in heaven’s name would Hugo agree to that?”
“Because,” suggested Tuck, “it would allow him to put his efforts into saving his abbey, which he will certainly lose if he continues to pursue this war. Lose the abbey and he has lost his place in the church—and I heartily doubt he’ll ever get another one. Who’d have him?”
“Indeed,” said Bran.
“You know what I mean,” Tuck continued. “If he agrees to the peace, he will survive, and keep much that he will lose if the war continues.”
“My lord, you would have to swear fealty to William,” Will Scarlet pointed out.
“He has offered to do that already,” Iwan reminded him. “Twice.”
“What about the king? He has given the realm to Hugo.”
“Then he can take it away again and give it back to its rightful ruler,” said Tuck, adding, “of course, the abbot would have to agree to support you before the king.”
“He’d never do it,” said Siarles.
“Share my realm with that rank Ffreinc butcher?” wondered Bran, shaking his head. “My stomach churns at the very thought.”
He glanced to Angharad for support, but the old woman admonished him, saying, “What the friar suggests has merit, Lord King. Think you: force has availed us nothing, nor has any other remedy offered a cure for this wasting blight. We hurt them in the grove, mind. Our enemies may be ready to listen to such an offer. It would be well to ponder the matter further.”
“I bow to your judgment,” allowed Bran grimly. Turning to the assembly, he said, “Let us suppose, for the moment, that we send an offer of peace to the abbot. What then?”
“Then it is for the Ffreinc to decide, is it not?” replied Tuck. “Either they accept and proceed according to your decree—”
“And if they don’t?” wondered Siarles.
“We will be no worse off,” suggested Mérian.
“But whatever happens will be on their heads,” added Tuck. “At all events, it is our Christian duty to try for peace if it lays in our power.”
Bran chewed his lip thoughtfully for a moment. Tuck thought he could see a chink of light shining in the darkness of Bran’s bleak mood. “Lord Bran,” the friar said, “I would like to take the message to Hugo myself and alone.”
“Why alone?” said Bran.
“Priest to priest,” replied Tuck. “That is how I mean to approach him—two men of God answerable to the Almighty. Blesséd are the peacemakers, are they not?”
“As Angharad suggests,” put in Mérian, “the abbot may welcome the opportunity to be rid of this bloodshed.”
“Hugo will welcome the opportunity to carve him like a Christmas ham,” observed Scarlet. To Tuck, he said, “He’ll roast your rump and feed it to his hounds.”
“Nay,” said Tuck. “He’ll do no such thing. I am a brother cleric and a minister of the church. A rogue he may be, but he will receive