Gwynedd, whatever occasional explosions of racial exuberance mightbreak the guarded peace. In this summer the peace with Gwynedd heldfirm, under the capable hand of Owain Gwynedd, since they had ashared interest in containing the ambitions of Earl Ranulf ofChester. Powys was less predictable, but had drawn in its horns oflate after several times blunting them painfully on Hugh’sprecautions.

“And the corn harvest the best for years. As for thefruit… It looks well,” said Cadfaelcautiously, “if we get some good rains soon to swell it, andno thunderstorms before it’s gathered. Well, the corn’sin and the straw stacked, and as good a hay crop as we’ve hadsince my memory holds. You’ll not hear mecomplain.”

But for all that, he thought, looking back in mild surprise, ithad been an unchancy sort of year, overturning the fortunes ofkings and empresses not once, but twice, while benignly smilingupon the festivities of the church and the hopeful labours ofordinary men, at least here in the midlands. February had seen KingStephen made prisoner at the disastrous battle of Lincoln, andswept away into close confinement in Bristol castle by hisarch-enemy, cousin and rival claimant to the throne of England, theEmpress Maud. A good many coats had been changed in haste afterthat reversal, not least that of Stephen’s brother andMaud’s cousin, Henry of Blois, Bishop of Winchester and papallegate, who had delicately hedged his wager and come round to thewinning side, only to find that he would have done well to drag hisfeet a little longer. For the fool woman, with the table spread forher at Westminster and the crown all but touching her hair, hadseen fit to conduct herself in so arrogant and overbearing a mannertowards the citizens of London that they had risen in fury to driveher out in ignominious flight, and let King Stephen’s valiantqueen into the city in her place.

Not that this last spin of the wheel could set King Stephen