"Of course," replied Tuck. He finished his meal wondering whether this revelation made his task easier or more difficult. Knowing little about Cadwgan, and nothing at all about Garran, there was no way to tell, he decided, until he met the young king in the flesh. He finished his meal and thanked the cook for extending the hospitality of her lord to him, then went out into the yard to see the horse. The stablehand was waiting patiently, and Tuck greeted him and asked what he could do. "The mare's with foal," the man told him, "as you can see. I would have a blessing on her that the birth will be easy and the young 'un healthy."

"Consider it done," replied the friar. Placing his hand on the broad forehead of the animal, Tuck said a prayer and blessed the beast, asking for the aid of Saint Eligius for the animal and, for good measure, Saint Monica as well. While he was praying he became aware that there were others looking on. On concluding, he turned to see that he was being watched by a young man who, despite his fair hair, looked that much like Merian-the same large dark eyes, the same full mouth and high, n.o.ble forehead-that Tuck decided the fellow had to be her brother. "I do beg your pardon, my lord," Tuck said, offering a slight bow, "but mightn't you be Rhi Garran?"

"G.o.d be good to you, Friar, I might be and, as it happens, I am," replied the young man with a smile. "And who, so long as we're asking, are you to be blessing my horses?"

"I am as you see me," replied Tuck, "a humble friar. Brother Aethelfrith is my name."

"A Saxon, then."

"I am, and that proud of it."

"Now I know you must be a Christian," replied Garran lightly, "for you speak the language of heaven right well. How is that, if you don't mind my asking? For I've never known a Saxon to bother himself overmuch with learning the Cymry tongue."

"That is easily told," answered Tuck, and explained that as a boy in Lincolnshire he had been captured in a raid and sold into slavery in the copper mines of Powys; when he grew old enough and bold enough, he had made good his escape and was received by the monks of Llandewi, where he lived until taking his vows and, some little time later, becoming a mendicant.

The young king nodded, the same amiable smile playing on his lips the while. "Well, I hope they have fed you in the kitchen, friend friar. You are welcome to stay as long as you like-Nefi, here, will give you a corner of the stable for a bed, and I am certain my people will make you feel at home."

"Your generosity does you credit, Sire," Tuck said, "but it is you I have come to see-on a matter of some urgency."

The young man hesitated. He made a dismissive gesture. "Then I commend you to my seneschal. I am certain he will be best able to help." Again, he turned to go, giving Tuck the impression that he was intruding on the busy life of this young monarch.

"If you please, my lord," said Tuck, starting after him, "it is about a friend of yours and mine-and of your sister Merian's."

At this last name, the young king halted and turned around again. "You know my sister?"

"I do, my lord, and that right well, do I not?"

"How do you know her?" The king's tone became wary, suspicious.

"I have lately come from the place where she has been living."

Garran tensed and drew himself up. "Then you must be one of those outlaws of the greenwood we have been hearing about." Before Tuck could reply, he said, "You are no longer welcome here. I suggest you leave before I have you whipped and thrown out."

"So that is the way of it," concluded Tuck.

"I have nothing more to say to you." Garran turned on his heel and started away.

"G.o.d love you, man," said Tuck, stepping after him. "It can do no harm to talk-"

"Did you not hear me?" snarled Garran, turning on the little friar. "I can have you beaten and cast out like the filth you are. Get you from my sight, or heaven help me, I will whip you myself."

"Then do so," Tuck replied, squaring himself for a fight. "For I will not leave until I have said what I came here to say."

Garran glared at him, but said, "Go on, then. If it will get your repulsive carcase out of my sight the sooner, speak."

"You seem to think that we harmed Merian in some way," Tuck began. "We did no such thing. Indeed, Merian was not held against her will. She stayed in the greenwood, lived lived with us in the greenwood, because she believes in the cause that we pursue-the same cause that brings me here to ask your aid." with us in the greenwood, because she believes in the cause that we pursue-the same cause that brings me here to ask your aid."

"What cause?"

"Justice, pure and simple. King William has erred and fomented a great injustice against the rightful lord and people of Elfael, who are most cruelly used and oppressed. A most grievous wrong has been committed, and we seek to put it right. To speak plainly, we mean to drive out the wicked usurpers and reclaim the throne of Elfael. Your sister, Merian, has been helping us do just that. She has been a most ardent and enthusiastic member of our little band. Let us go ask her,"

Tuck suggested, "and you can hear this from her own lips."

Garran was already shaking his head. "You're not going anywhere near her," he said. "Merian is home now-back among her family where she belongs. You will no longer twist her to your treason."

"Twist her?" wondered Tuck. "She has been more than willing. Merian is a leader among the forest folk. She is-"

"Whatever she was was to you," sneered Garran, "she is no more. Be gone!" to you," sneered Garran, "she is no more. Be gone!"

"Please, you must-"

"Must? Know you, Baron Neufmarche is my liege lord, as William is his. We are loyal to the crown in this house. If you persist in speaking of this, I will report you for treason against the throne of England-as is my sworn duty."

"I beg you, Sire, do not-"

"Daffyd! Awstin!" the king shouted, calling for his men, who appeared on the run from the stables. Thrusting a finger at the friar, he said, "Throw him out and bar the gate behind him. If he does not leave, whip him, and drag him to the border of Eiwas-for I will not suffer him to remain in my sight or on my land another moment."

"I will go, and gladly," Tuck said. "But let me speak to Merian-"

Garran's face clenched like a fist. "Mention her name again and, priest or no, I will cut out your tongue." He gave a nod to the two stablehands, who stepped forward and roughly took hold of Tuck.

The friar was hauled from the yard and pushed out through the gate. "Sorry, Friar," said one as he closed the gate.

"Bless you, friend," replied Tuck with a sigh, "I do not hold it against you." He took a moment to shake the dust from his feet, and then started the long walk back to where Bran and Scarlet were waiting for a better word than he had to give them.

Nor was Bran any better pleased than Tuck imagined he would be. He listened to all that Tuck had to say about what had taken place up at the caer, and then walked a few paces apart and stood looking at the fortress mound in the near distance. He stood there so long that Scarlet eventually approached him and said, "My lord? What is your pleasure?"

When Bran failed to respond, he said, "If we hurry, we can be back in Cel Craidd before dark."

Without turning, Bran replied, "I am not leaving until I have spoken to Merian."

"How?" wondered Tuck. "He will hardly allow any of us inside the caer again."

Bran turned and flashed his crooked smile. "Tuck, old friend, I have been in and out of that fortress without anyone the wiser more times than you've et hot soup." He looked around for a soft spot in the shade. "It's going to be a long night; I suggest we rest until it gets dark."

They tethered the horses so that they might graze among the trees, and then settled back to nap and wait for night and the cover of darkness. The day pa.s.sed quietly, and night came on. When Bran reckoned that all in the fortress would be in bed asleep, he roused the other two. Tuck rose, yawned, shook out his robe, and clambered back into the saddle, thinking that he would be heartily glad when all this to-ing and fro-ing was over and peace reigned in the land once more. They rode in silence around the base of the hill on which the fortress sat, Bran picking his way with practiced a.s.surance along a path none of the others could see in the darkness. They came to a place below the wall where a small ditch or ravine caused the wall to dip slightly. Here, Bran halted and dismounted. "We are behind the kitchen," he explained. "Merian's chamber used to be just the other side of the wall. Pray it is so now."

"And is this why Lord Cadwgan took such umbrage against you?" wondered Scarlet.

"Now that you mention it," Bran allowed, his grin a white glint in the dark, "that could have had something to do with it-not that any other reason was needed." He started up the steep hillside. "Let's be at it."

Quick and silent as a shadow, Bran was up the slope and over the wall, leaving Scarlet and Tuck to struggle over as best they could. By the time Tuck eased himself over the rough timber palisade and into the yard, Bran was already clinging onto the sill below a small gla.s.s window-one of only three in the entire fortress. Bran lightly tapped twice on the small round panes . . . paused, and tapped three more times.

When nothing happened, he repeated the same series of raps.

"D'you think she's there?" asked Scarlet.

Bran hissed him to silence and repeated his signal yet again. This time there was a tap from the other side, and a moment later the window swung inward on its hinges and Merian's face appeared where the gla.s.s had been. "Bran! Saints and angels, it is is you!" you!"

"Merian, are you well?"

"I thought you would never get here," she said. "I have been praying you would come-and listening for you each night."

"Are you well, Merian?"

"I am very well-for all I am made prisoner in my own house," she said tartly. "But I am not mistreated. They think you took me hostage-"

"I did."

"-and held me against my will. They seem to think that if I am given a little time I will come to see how I was tricked into siding with you against the Ffreinc. Until I repent of my folly, I am to remain locked in this room."

"We'll have you out of there soon enough," said Bran. He glanced across to the shuttered window of the kitchen. "Give me a moment and I'll come through there. Is there likely to be anyone awake in the kitchen?"

"Bran, no-wait," said Merian. "Listen to me-I've been thinking. I should stay here a little longer."

"But, you just said-"

"I know, but I think I can persuade Garran to send men to aid us."

"Tuck tried to ask him already. He asked to see you, too, and Garran refused. He wouldn't hear anything we had to say."

"You talked to him? When?"

"Today. Tuck came up, but Garran had him thrown out of the caer. It's no use; your brother will not go against Baron Neufmarche in any case."

"He has good reason," Merian said. "He's married to the baron's daughter."

"What?"

"Lady Sybil Neufmarche-they were wed in the spring." She explained about her father's death and funeral, and the match the baron had proposed. "They are living here-Lady Agnes and Sybil, I mean."

Bran dropped lightly to the ground. "They won't let you go. And no matter what you say, you'll never persuade them to join us." He gestured behind him. "Scarlet, Tuck, come here."

"What are you going to do?"

"Free you."

"Please, Bran, not like this. If I stay here I might yet be able to convince them to join us. If I leave now, it will enrage them-and then you will have Garran and his men against you, too. We cannot risk making enemies of those who should be our friends."

"Come with me, Merian. I need you."

"Bran, I pray you, think what this means."

Bran paused and looked up at her. "I remember once, not so long ago, when I stood where I'm standing now and asked you to come with me," he said. "Do you remember?"

"I remember," she said.

"You refused to come with me then too."

"Oh, Bran." Her voice became plaintive. "This is not like that. I will will come-as soon as I can. Until then, I will work to bring Garran around to our side. I can do this; you'll see." come-as soon as I can. Until then, I will work to bring Garran around to our side. I can do this; you'll see."

Bran started away, fading into the night-shadowed darkness.

"It is for the best," Merian insisted. "You will see."

"Farewell, Merian." Bran called over his shoulder. "Come," he said to Scarlet and Tuck, "we are finished. There is nothing for us here."

CHAPTER 27.

Saint Martin's The small steading lay amidst fields of barley in a narrow crook of a finger of the Vale of Elfael north of Saint Martin's-not the largest holding in Elfael, nor the closest to the caer, but one that Gysburne had marked before as a prosperous place and well worth keeping an eye on. Captain Aloin, commander of the knights that had been sent to help the abbot and sheriff maintain order in the cantref, surveyed the quiet farm from the back of his horse.

"Are you certain this is the place?" asked the captain, casting his gaze right and left for any sign of trouble. "It seems peaceful enough."

"The calm can be misleading," replied Marshal Gysburne. "These Welsh are sly devils every one. You must be prepared to fight for your life at any moment."

The sheriff and abbot had determined to begin retaliation for the most recent predations of King Raven and his thieving flock. The sack of the Welsh farms and confiscation of all supplies, stock, and provisions would serve as a warning to the folk of the cantref-especially those who benefited from the thievery. To this end, a large body of knights-fully half of the entire force, accompanied by men-at- arms and four empty hay wains-had been dispatched to the holding with orders to strip it of all possessions and kill anyone bold enough to resist.

"And when we've finished here?" Captain Aloin asked.

"We continue on to the next farm, and the next, until the wagons are full. Or until King Raven and his foul flock appear."

"How do you know he will come?" asked Captain Aloin as he and Gysburne rode out from the caer, each at the head of a company of soldiers.

"He will appear, without a doubt," replied Marshal Guy. "If not today, then tomorrow. Attacking one of his beloved settlements raises his ire-killing a few Cymry is sure to bring him out of hiding."

"If that is so," surmised Aloin. "Then why have you not done this before? Why have you waited so long and put up with his thievery and treasons all this time?"

"Because Count Falkes de Braose-the ruler of Elfael before he was driven into exile-had no stomach for such tactics. He thought it important to gain the trust and goodwill of the people, or some such nonsense. He said he could not rule if all hands were against him at every turn."

"And now?"

Gysburne smiled to himself. "Now things have changed. Abbot Hugo is not so delicate as the count."

"And Sheriff de Glanville?"

"What about him?"

"Where does he stand in this matter? It was de Glanville who begged our services from the king. I would have thought he would ride out with us today."

"But he has has," replied Gysburne. "He most certainly has-as you shall see." The marshal lifted the reins. "Walk on," he said.

Captain Aloin raised his fist in the air and gave the signal to move out, and the double column of soldiers on horseback continued on. Upon reaching the farmstead, the knights quickly arrayed themselves for battle. While half of the company under the command of Gysburne rode into the yard and took over the holding, Aloin's division fanned out to form a shield wall to prevent any approach to the property and discourage anyone who might be minded to take an interest in the affair.