Scarlet

Leaning over me, she deftly untied the laces and lifted off the wet garment; the cold air hit my damp clothes and I shivered. She spread the dry cloak over my shoulders and rubbed my back with her hands so as to warm me. 'There now,' she said, 'you'll be warm and dry that soon.'

'Many thanks,' I said, craning my head around to see her better. It was the woman who had come to Cel Craidd after being rescued from the Ffreinc. As it happens, I had helped build a hut for her and her wee daughter. 'Noinina, is it?' I asked, though I knew well and good that it was.

'Aye, that's me.' She gave me a fine smile, and I realized that she was a right fetching woman. Now, it might have been the heat of the fire after a long, cold day, or then again, it might have been something else, but I felt a certain warmth spread through me just then. 'You're called Will.'

'That I am.'

She lingered close, gazing down at me as I sat with my cup on my knees. 'I helped build the hut for you and the little 'un,' I told her.

'I know.' She smiled again and moved off. 'And for that I'll give you a barley cake.'

She was back a few moments later with a jug of warm ale and a barley cake fresh from the griddle stone. 'Get that into you and see if you don't warm up.'

'I'm feeling better already,' I told her. 'Much better.'

It didn't last long. As soon as we all had a bite and drained our cups, Iwan put out the fire and we were away. Oh, but it was a long, slow trek back to the settlement through deep-drifting snow. We tried to walk in one another's footsteps as much as possible so as not to disturb the snow overmuch, but that was tedious and taxing. We were fair exhausted by the time we reached Cel Craidd, and the night was far gone. Even so, our folk had built up a big, bright fire and were waiting for us with hot food and drink. They let out a great cheer when first we tumbled through the hedgewall and slid down the bank.

Well, our trials were forgotten just that quick, and we all gathered round the fire to celebrate our victory. There was still a thing or two needin' done-the oxen and wagons had been secured for the night, but the wagons would have to be unburdened and the oxen would require attention before another day had run. Our work was far from finished. Even so, the cares of tomorrow could fend for themselves a little while; this night we could celebrate.

The mood was high. We had fought the Ffreinc and delivered a blow they would not soon forget. As soon as we took our places at the fire, cups were pressed into our hands and meat set to roast on skewers. We drank the first of many healths to one and all, and I was that surprised to find myself standing beside the widow woman once more.

'Hello again, Noinina,' I said, my clumsy half-Saxon tongue attempting the lilt she had given it. 'It's a good night that ends well even with the snow.'

'Call me Noin,' she said. Indicating my cup with a quick nod of her head, she said, 'Your jar big enough for two?'

'Just big enough,' I replied, and passed it to her.

She raised it to her lips and drank deep, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she returned the jar. 'Ah, now, that is as it should be-hale and hearty and strong, with a fine handsome head.' She leaned near, and her lips curved with sweet mischief as she added, 'Just like our man here himself.'

Oh, my stars! It had been long since any woman had spoken to me with such invitation in her voice. My heart near leapt out of my throat, and I had to look at her a second time to make sure it was ol' Will Scarlet she was talking about. She gave me a wink with the smile, and I knew my fortunes had just improved beyond all reason. 'Do not be leaving just yet,' she said, and skipped away.

'I'll keep a place for you right here,' I called after her.

She returned with another jar and two skewers of meat for us to roast at the fire. We settled back to share a stump and a cup, and watch the snow drift down as the meat cooked. Sweet Peter's beard, but the flames that warmed my face were nothing compared to the warmth of that fine young woman beside me. An unexpected happiness caught me up, and my heart took wing and soared through a winter sky ablaze with stars.

I was on the point of asking her how she came to be in the forest when Lord Bran raised his cup and called for silence around the fire ring. 'Here's a health to King Raven and his mighty Grellon, who this night have plucked a tail feather from that stuffed goose de Braose!'

'To King Raven and the Grellon,' we all cried, lofting our cups, 'mighty all!'

When we had drunk and recharged our cups, Bran called again, 'Here's a health to the men whose valour and hardihood has the sheriff and his men gnashing their teeth in rage tonight!'

We hailed that and drank accordingly, swallowing down a hearty draught at the happy thought of the sheriff and count smarting from the wallop we'd given them.

'Hear now!' Bran called when we had finished. 'This health is for our good Will Scarlet who, heedless of the danger to himself, snatched a poor man from the sheriff 's grasp. Thanks to Will, that man's family will eat tonight and him with them.' Raising his cup, he cried, 'To Will, a man after King Raven's heart!'

The shout went up, 'To Will!' And everyone raised their jars to me. Ah, it was a grand thing to be hailed like that. And just to make the moment that much more memorable to me, as the king and all his folk drank my health, I felt Noin slip her hand into mine and give it a squeeze-only lightly, mind, but I felt the tingle down to my toes.

CHAPTER 13

Eiwas

The journey to Wales seemed endless somehow. Although only a few days from his castle in England's settled heart, Bernard Neufmarche, Baron of Hereford and Gloucester, always felt as if he had travelled half a world away by the time he reached the lands of his vassal, Lord Cadwgan, in the Welsh cantref of Eiwas. The country was darker and strangely uninviting, with shadowy wooded keeps, secret pools, and lonely rivers. The baron thought the close-set hills and hidden valleys of Wales mysterious and more than a little forbidding-all the more so in winter.

It wasn't only the landscape he found threatening. Since his defeat of Rhys ap Tewdwr, a well-loved king and the able leader of the southern Welsh resistance, the land beyond the March had grown decidedly unfriendly to him. Former friends were now hostile, and former enemies implacable. So be it. If that was the price of progress, Neufmarche was willing to pay. Now, however, the baron made his circuits more rarely and, where once he might have enjoyed an untroubled ride to visit his vassal lords, these days he never put foot to stirrup in the region unless accompanied by a bodyguard of knights and men-at-arms.

Thus, he was surrounded by a strong, well-armed force. Not that he expected trouble from Cadwgan-despite their differences, the two had always got along well enough-but reports of wandering rebels stirring up trouble meant that even old friends must be treated with caution.

'Evereux!' called the baron as they came in sight of Caer Rhodl perched on the summit of a low rock crag. 'Halt the men just there.' He pointed to a stony outcrop beside the trail, a short distance from the wooden palisade of Cadwgan's fortress. 'You and I will ride on together.'

The marshal relayed the baron's command to the troops and, upon reaching the place, the soldiers paused and dismounted. The baron continued to the fortress gate-where, as expected, he was admitted with prompt, if cold, courtesy.

'My lord will be informed of your arrival,' said the steward. 'Please wait in the hall.'

'But of course,' replied the baron. 'My greetings to your lord.'

The Welsh king's house was not large, and Neufmarche had been there many times; he proceeded to the hall, where he and his marshal were kept waiting longer than the baron deemed hospitable. 'This is an insult,' observed Evereux. 'Do you want me to go find the old fool and drag him here by the nose?'

'We came unannounced,' the baron replied calmly, although he was also feeling the slight. 'We will wait.'

They remained in the hall, alone, frustration mounting by the moment, until eventually there came a shuffle in the doorway. It took a moment for the baron to realise that Lord Cadwgan had indeed appeared. Gaunt and hollow-cheeked, a ghastly shadow fell across his face; his clothes hung on his once-robust form as upon a rack of