no more of the matter.  But the next thing was that Morgan gathered a force and tried to turn us out on his own account, and had the worst of the affair.  That angered Gerent, for he lost some good men outside our stockades.  And then other things cropped up between them.  I have heard that the old king found out old lies told by Morgan concerning Owen the prince, whom men hope to see again, but I know little of that.  Anyway, Morgan and his brother fled, and this is the end thereof.  We heard too that he plotted to take the throne, and it is likely.”

“Thanks, friend,” Ina said.  “That is a plain tale, and all we need to know.  But what say men of Owen, whom you spoke of?  Is it known that he lives?”

“Oh ay.  They say that you know more of him than any one.  Men have seen him here at Glastonbury.  Moreover, Gerent came to Norton, just across the Quantocks, yesterday, and it is thought that he wants to send a message to you asking after him.  There will be joy in West Wales if he goes back to the right hand of the king, for one would think that he was a fairy prince by the way he is spoken of.”

Thereat Ina smiled at Owen, and Thorgils saw it, and knew what was meant in a moment.  He turned to Owen with a quick look, and said frankly: 

“True enough, Prince, but I did not know that I spoke of a listener.  On my word, if you do go back, you will have hard work to live up to what is expected of you.  Maybe what is more to the point is this, that Morgan has more friends than enough, and it is likely that they will stick at little to avenge him.

“Howbeit,” he added with a quaint smile, “it shall not be said that Thorgils missed a chance.  Prince, if you do go back to Gerent you will be his right hand, as they say.  Therefore I will ask you at once to have us Norsemen in favour, so far as we need any.  Somewhat is due to the bearer of tidings, by all custom.”

Ina laughed, and even Owen smiled at the ready Norseman, but Herewald the ealdorman and I wondered at him, for he spoke as to equals, with no sort of fear of the king on him, which was not altogether the way of men who stood before Ina.

Then said Owen quietly: 

“Friend, I think there is a favour I may ask you, rather.  I have bided away from my uncle, King Gerent, because I would not return to him unasked, being somewhat proud, maybe.  But now it seems to King Ina and myself that needs must I go to him to take the news of this death of Morgan myself.  It is a matter that might easily turn to a cause of war between Wessex and West Wales, for if the man tried to slay our king in his own court, it may also be told that here was slain a prince of Dyvnaint.  There is full need that the truth should reach the king before rumour makes the matter over great.  You have seen all, and are known to the Welsh court as a friend.  Come with me, therefore, tomorrow and tell the tale.”

“That I will, Prince,” Thorgils said.  “You will be welcome; but as I warn you, there will be need for care.”