“My lord,” he said, “I am sent by my bishop onan errand of goodwill into Wales. He prays you receive and house mefor a night or two among you.”

“My son,” said the abbot, smiling, “you needhere no credentials but your presence. Did you think we could haveforgotten you so soon? You have here as many friends as there arebrothers, and in only two days you will find it hard to satisfythem all. And as for your errand, or your lord’s errand, wewill do all we can to forward it. Do you wish to speak of it? Here,or in private?”

Brother Mark’s solemn face melted into a delighted smileat being not only remembered, but remembered with obvious pleasure.“It is no long story, Father,” he said, “and Imay well declare it here, though later I would entreat your adviceand counsel, for such an embassage is new to me, and there is noone could better aid me to perform it faithfully than you. You knowthat last year the Church chose to restore the bishopric of SaintAsaph, at Llanelwy.”

Radulfus agreed, with an inclination of his head. The fourthWelsh diocese had been in abeyance for some seventy years, very fewnow living could remember when there had been a bishop on thethrone of Saint Kentigern. The location of the see, with a footeither side the border, and all the power of Gwynedd to westward,had always made it difficult to maintain. The cathedral stood onland held by the earl of Chester, but all the Clwyd valley above itwas in Owain Gwynedd’s territory. Exactly why ArchbishopTheobald had resolved on reviving the diocese at this time was notquite clear to anyone, perhaps not even the archbishop. Mixedmotives of Church politics and secular manoeuvring apparentlyrequired a firmly English hold on this borderland, for theappointed man was a Norman. There was not much tenderness towardsWelsh sensitivities in such a preferment, Cadfael reflectedruefully.