He sounded so mournful.Cai reachedout to him.“Come here.”Fen obeyed as far as coming to stand infront of him, but wouldn’t take his outstretched hand.“He isn’thiding anything.Listen—our boat might be ready.I think the soonerwe leave here, the better.”
“Why?In case yourcastrating bloody influence wears off?”
“You were going to murderour host.It might make things awkward over breakfast.”
Fen smiled—an involuntary flicker,quickly erased.“He was sleeping like a dog.He didn’tknow.”
“I think he did,Fen.”
“All right.If you want towalk away from so much power, we’ll go.”
“Not yet.First we go backand see that he’s all right.Thank him.”
At last Fen took his hand.He did itreluctantly, but their palms met with a sensual warmth, and after amoment he gripped tight.“Very well, Saint Caius ofNowhere.”
Addy was pacing back and forth alongthe high-tide line, the hem of his cassock snagging on driedseaweed.He was anxiously watching the sky.He didn’t appear tonotice his guests’ approach until Cai called out to him, and thenspared them only a distracted glance.“He is late.He is late, andyou two must be hungry.”
“Who is late,sir?”
“The eagle.”
Cai shot Fen a warning look.“I see,”he said cautiously, getting into the old man’s path and stoppinghim gently, afraid his restless movements would wear him out.“Youknow, if you wished, Fen and I could patch together a fishing netand…”
“Ah, no.No.If you providefor me, how will I know the love of God in the beat of the eagle’swings?”Cai couldn’t answer that.After a moment Addy returned hisattentions to earth and gave him a wide smile.“But I would haveliked to have given you your breakfasts.Perhaps you had betterpursue your own ways now.You mustn’t starve here.”
“We can catch this nexttide, if our boat holds up.Are you sure you won’t come withus?”
“No, no.These fools whowish to place me on the bishop’s throne would find me too easily onthe mainland.You won’t tell them I’m here, will you?If anyoneasks, you will say you met a mad old hermit, and Addy is alegend.”
Cai shrugged.“I promise.”It seemedtrue enough to him now.Perhaps some shipwrecked monk had becomemarooned, assumed the name and grown old here in his delusions ofpower.“Well, if you change your mind or you’re ever ill, light asignal fire on your western beach.We’ll see it from Fara.”Oncemore he looked around the featureless strip of dunes, where not somuch as a rabbit or a goat cropped the turf.“I still don’t see howyou live.”
“I told you.Godprovides.”
Even if He’s a little late thismorning.Caihad been turning away.Then something in the old man’s voice madehim pause.There was such certainty in it, the deep note ofconviction that had drawn Cai to him the day before.
“Caius, listen.I have said thatyour new abbot Aelfric is a poor example of the coming faith.Whateveryouprofess—even if it’s no more than belief in yourself as aman—you must be a good example.Do you understand?”
“No,” Cai said honestly,spreading his hands.“Even if I did…I don’t know how.”
“We can’t lead men to purerlives unless our own are pure.”His benign gaze encompassed Fen,and he smiled.“I don’t mean the flesh.For myself, I believe theflesh must have its way, governed by love and by will.But I am aheretic.By the example of your own life, I mean.Cai, you grieveover Theo, and I thought I did too—but there is really very littleneed.”
“Why?”Cai could hardly getthe question out past the pain in his throat.He didn’t think he’dever grieved for him more poignantly than now, when for all hiswords the old man’s eyes were bright with tears for himtoo.
“You’ll see.You’ll see.Now, catch your tide.Unless…” He suddenly focussed on Fen, hissmile broadening.“Unless, son, you would like to go and take alook around inside my cave.It’s daylight now, and your search willbe easier.Caius and I will wait.”
Fen’s lips parted.Then he stared atthe ground, his brow knitting ferociously.“I don’t wish it.No.”
Cai had seen him flush before, in rageand arousal, and sometimes mortification at the forced intimaciesof medical care.But this was pure shame.Cai hadn’t thought himcapable.Shame at his aborted deed, or only at being found out init?Addy didn’t seem to care.He was chuckling now, rocking himselfback and forth in amusement.“Poor wolf, poor wolf.I would havemade a sorry meal for you.Tell me, Fenrisulfr—there being nosecret of Fara, what would you have by way of treasure?Can it beattained in this life?I’d grant you it myself if Icould.”
Fen looked up.“Vengeance,” he saidsuddenly, as if Addy had fished the word out of him on a hook.“Mykinsmen who abandoned me here among Christians and lunatics—I wouldhave revenge.”
“Ah.”Addy sobered.Hefolded his hands into his sleeves.“That, I can’t grant.But youwill have it one day.Yes—knee-deep in water and blood.”
“Fen, come on.”Cai tookhold of him, a firm grip on his rigid arm.“Sir, we should gonow.”
“Yes,” Addy said absently,distances opening up in his eyes.“Go in God, blessed be Hername.”
“And you.”Cai hesitated,wondering if he’d misheard.“Hername?”
