Dead Man's Ransom by Ellis Peters

be, and marvelled fondly what misdemeanour or misfortune he could have to pour out here, where he had been so loftily on his dignity.
    “Oh, Eliud!” blurted Elis, hugging him afresh in arms which had certainly lost none of their heedless strength. “For God’s sake, what am I to do? How shall I tell you! I can’t go back! If I do, I’ve lost all. Oh, Eliud, I must have her! If I lose her I shall die! You haven’t seen her? Prestcote’s daughter?”
    “His daughter?” whispered Eliud, utterly dazed. “There was a lady, with a grown girl and a young boy… I hardly noticed.”
    “For God’s sake, man, how could you not notice her? Ivory and roses, and her hair all pale, like spun silver… I love her!” proclaimed Elis in high fever. “And she is just as fain, I swear it, and we’ve pledged ourselves. Oh, Eliud, if I go now I shall never have her. If I leave her now, I’m lost. And he’s an enemy, she warned me, he hates the Welsh. Never go near him, she said…” Eliud, who had sat stunned and astray, roused himself to take his friend by the shoulders and shake him furiously until he fell silent for want of breath, staring astonished.
    “What are you telling me? You have a girl here? You love her? You no longer want to make any claim on Cristina? Is that what you’re saying?”
    “Were you not listening? Haven’t I told you?” Elis, unsubdued and unchastened, heaved himself free and grappled in his turn. “Listen, let me tell you how it fell. What pledge did I myself ever give Cristina? Is it her fault or mine if we’re tied like tethered cattle? She cares no more for me than I for her. I’d brother the girl and dance at her wedding, and kiss her and wish her well heartily. But this… this is another matter! Oh, Eliud, hush and hear me!” It poured forth like music, the whole story from his first glimpse of her, the silver maiden at the door, blue-eyed, magical. Plenty of bards had issued from the stock to which Elis belonged, he had both the gift of words and the eloquent tune. Eliud sat stricken mute, gaping at him in blanched astonishment and strange dismay, his hands gripped and wrung in Elis’s persuading hands.
    “And I was frantic for you!” he said softly and slowly, almost to himself. “If I had but known…”
    “But Eliud, he’s here!” Elis held him by the arms, peering eagerly into his face. “He is here? You brought him, you must know. She says, don’t go, but how can I lose this chance? I’m noble, I pledge the girl my whole heart, all my goods and lands, where will he find a better match? And she is not spoken for. I can, I must win him, he must listen to me… why should he not?” He flashed one sweeping glance about the almost vacant court. “They’re not yet ready, they haven’t called us. Eliud, you know where he’s laid. I’m going to him! I must, I will! Show me the place!”
    “He’s in the infirmary.” Eliud was staring at him with open mouth and wide, shocked eyes. “But you can’t, you mustn’t… He’s sick and weary, you can’t trouble him now.”
    “I’ll be gentle, humble, I’ll kneel to him, I’ll put my life in his hands. The infirmary—which is it? I never was inside these walls until now. Which door?” He caught Eliud by the arm and dragged him to the archway that looked out on the court. “Show me, quickly!”
    “No! Don’t go! Leave him be! For shame, to rush in on his rest…”
    “Which door?” Elis shook him fiercely. “You brought him, you saw!”
    “There! The building drawn back to the precinct wall, to the right from the gatehouse. But don’t do it! Surely the girl knows her father best. Wait, don’t harry him now—an old, sick man!”
    “You think I’d offer any hardihood to her father! All I want is to tell him my heart, and that I have her favour. If he curses me, I’ll bear it. But I must put it to the test. What chance shall I ever have again?” He made to pull clear, and Eliud held him convulsively, then as