'The days were growing dimmer and a fine dry winter had set in.'
He resumes writing, and we go on… One morning a few days before Christmas, I heard the call of a raven, but thought nothing of it until I saw people hurrying to the bare circle of earth beneath the tree they called Council Oak. 'Will! Come, join us,' called Iwan. 'It is the summons!'
Angharad was there, wrapped head to foot in her cloak, although the day was mild enough for that time of year and the sun, low in the southern sky, was bright. Standing beside her was a small boy; I'd seen him before darting here and there about the place, always moving, never still. He seemed a clever, curious child, and a favourite of Bran's among the youngsters.
'Gwion Bach has news from Elfael,' she announced when Bran had taken his place. 'Count Falkes is expecting winter supplies from his uncle, the baron. The wagons are to arrive any day.'
'Is it known what is coming?' asked Bran.
'Grain and wine, cloth and such,' she replied, glancing at the boy, who gave a slight nod. 'And some things for the abbot's new church.'
'Any day,' mused Bran. 'Not much time.'
'None to lose,' agreed the hudolion.
'Then we must hurry if we are to make ready a warm welcome for them.' Bran was already moving towards his hut. 'Iwan! Siarles! To me!' He paused in midstep, turned, and regarded me as if weighing the prudence of taking an untried hound a-hunting with the pack.
I sensed his reluctance and guessed what he was thinking. 'My lord, I stand ready to lend both hand and heart to whatever command you give me.' Indicating young Gwion Bach, who was following in his lord's footsteps, I said, 'But if even children serve you in this fight, then perhaps you would not deny a willing elder to aid you in your purpose.'
He nodded once, deciding it then and there. 'Come along, Will. Join us.'
'Rhi Bran!' Angharad called after him. 'One thing more-something else comes with the wagons.'
'Yes?'
'There will be snow,' she said, gathering her robe around her more tightly.
Bran accepted this without hesitation, but I had not yet learned to honour these utterances with unquestioning belief. Unable to help myself, I glanced up at the sky, bright and fine, and not the least smudge of a cloud to be seen anywhere. The amused expression on my face must have given me away, for as I stood looking on, Bran called to me. 'What,Will? Could it be that you doubt our good banfaith's word?'
'Nay, Lord,' I replied, softening his accusation. 'Let us rather say that it will be the first time I've seen snow from a clear blue sky.'
'Hmph!' sniffed Angharad, muttering as she stumped away, 'These old bones know snow when they feel it.'
I followed Bran to his hut and took my place alongside the other two. Iwan seemed comfortable enough with my presence, but Siarles did not appear to prize it much. Even so, I was there at the king's pleasure, so there was nothing to be said or done. 'It seems the baron in his boundless generosity is sending us a Christmas blessing,' Bran said. 'We must make ready to receive it with all good grace.'
The other two grinned at the thought, and all three began planning how best to greet the supply wagons when they passed through the forest on their way to Castle Truan. I listened to their talk, keeping my own counsel-as I was yet a little uncertain what manner of outlawry I had fallen into. Every now and then, the name King Raven arose in their discussion. It was the first time I had heard the name used among them in just this way. It was Bran himself they meant, and yet all three spoke of him as if it were someone else.
Finally, after this had gone on awhile, I asked, 'Pardon my ignorance, Lord, but are you not King Raven?'
'Of course,' replied Bran, 'as you already know.'
'To be sure,' I said, 'but why when you speak the name do you say, 'he will go…' or, '… when he calls…' and the like, if it is yourself you mean?'
Bran laughed.
Iwan answered, 'It is Bran and not Bran. See?'
'Again, I must beg pardon. But that makes no sense to this dull head at all.'
'Bran is King Raven,' Siarles explained, giving me a superior smile, 'but King Raven is not Bran.'
'Sorry.' I shook my head. 'I may be slow of wit, God knows, but it still seems nonsense to me.'
Bran said, 'Then you'll just have to wait and see.'
Well, we spent most of the day planning the welcome for the baron's supply train. While they talked about all they would do, I still had little real idea what to expect save for my part in the proceedings, which amounted to little more than watching the road and being ready with a bow in case events did not fall out as predicted.
A few of the Grellon were involved, but not many, and none of them was given duty at the sharp end. Bran, Siarles, and Iwan assumed the greatest risk and made particular efforts to keep the people both out of sight and out of danger as much as possible.
Oh, but it would be dangerous. There was no avoiding that.
CHAPTER 9
It was an odd thing: everyone scurrying around like ants in the rain-the children dragging wood into heaps near the door of each hut, and the women bundling foodstuffs, and the men drawing water and snugging the shelters-all labouring under a clear, bright sky to prepare for snow, the only hint of which was a twinge in an old woman's bones.
While the rest of us were taking such measures against the coming storm, Iwan and Siarles went to spy out the best place for the welcome. We did not know how many soldiers would come with the wagons, nor how many wagons there might be. But Iwan and Siarles knew the road and knew where an ambush might succeed.
They were gone all that short winter's day, returning at dusk. Upon arrival, they went directly to our lord's hut. Tired from the day's work, I settled by the common fire where a stew pot was bubbling, to warm myself and wait for the food to be served. 'You were busy all day,' observed a woman nearby.
'I was that.' I turned to see Merian, bundled in her cloak, taking her place on the log beside me. 'My lady, I give you good greeting.'
'You didn't go with the others,' she observed.
'No, there was enough to be done here. They only went to see where the wagons might pass.'
'To see where the wagons might be attacked,' she corrected. 'That is what you mean.'
'Yes, I suppose that is my meaning.' She made a small tut of disapproval. 'You do not agree with the king in this?'
'Whether I agree or not makes no difference,' she replied crisply. 'The point is that Bran will never achieve peace with the baron if he insists on raiding and thieving. It only angers the baron and provokes him and the count to ever more cruel reprisals.'
'You are right, of course,' I agreed. 'But from where I stand, I don't see Rhi Bran making peace with the baron or the count, either one. He wants to punish them.'
'He wants the return of his throne,' she corrected crisply, 'and he will not achieve it by plundering a few supply wagons.'
'No, perhaps not.'
'There!' she said, as if she had won a victory herself. 'You agree. You see what must be done.'
'My lady?'
'You must talk to Bran and persuade him to change his mind about the raid.'
'Me?' I said. 'I cannot. I dare not.'
'Why?' she said, turning her large dark eyes on me.
'It is not my place.'
'I would have thought it the place of any right-thinking man to help his lord whenever he can. Certainly, if you saw him sticking his hand in a nest of vipers you would warn him.'
I regarded her closely before answering. 'My lady, please,' I said. 'I cannot do as you ask. Iwan might, and I
