in the satchel, then spun about and ran for the hall entrance. 'Two of them!' roared Hugh as the man disappeared. To his noblemen, he added, 'Hunting is such thirsty business.'
When Count Rexindo finished with the hounds, he turned and walked back to where Bishop Balthus stood, and the cleric saw the count slip his fingers back into the pouch at his belt, replacing the rag that had been liberally doused with herb oil, and with which he had smeared his palm-the same that had stroked the dog's nose and muzzle.
'Do you think it will work?' Tuck whispered as the grooms brought out the horses. 'Or are we mad?'
'We can but pray. Still, if Gruffydd has followed your instruction,' he said, 'we have a chance at least-if he can endure the hunt.' He motioned Alan to him and said, 'You had best come with us today; we may need you. Tell the earl that Count Rexindo requires the aid of his servant and to bring a horse for you. Can you ride?'
'I can keep a saddle, my lord,' he answered.
'Good man.'
As Alan arranged for himself to accompany the hunt, a servant appeared with two saddle cups overflowing, and these were passed hand to hand around the ring of gathered hunters. The Ffreinc noblemen revived somewhat with the application of a little wine, and were soon showing themselves as keen as the earl to begin the day's amusement.
'Watch them,' muttered Bran as he passed the cup to Tuck and Alan once more. 'We have the measure of Hugh, but as for these-we don't know them and cannot tell how they will behave once we're on the trail. They may be trouble.'
'I will keep my eye on them, never fear,' Tuck told him.
The grooms brought the horses then, and to pass the time the hunters examined the tack and weapons. It had been decided that each would have two spears and a knife: ample weapons to bring down a defenceless prey. By the time the count's two young attendants returned from their errand, the earl was in a fever to begin the pursuit. Despite any lingering misgivings about losing a valuable captive, the idea of hunting a man had begun to work a spell in him, and like the hounds he cherished so much, waiting chafed him raw. At the earl's cry, the company took to their saddles and clattered from the yard. Earl Hugh sang out for Count Rexindo to ride with him-which, of course, Bran was only too happy to do-and they were off.
At first, Ifor and Brocmael and Tuck pretended to be as eager for the pursuit as those around them. They kept pace, staying only a little behind the earl, who was leading the chase; the Ffreinc noblemen thundered along behind-so close that Tuck could have sworn he could hear the bloodlust drumming in their veins.
They reached the head of the game run at the gallop and entered the long, leafy avenue in full flight. Rather than wait for the hound and handler to catch up, Earl Hugh proceeded headlong down the run with Count Rexindo right beside. After a few hundred yards or so, the count swerved to the right as if to begin searching that side of the run. Two of the Ffreinc noblemen went with him, and the rest followed the earl. However, no one turned up a trail, so the party slowed, eventually coming to a halt. There was nothing for it but to return to the head of the run and await the hound, which was not long in coming.
Nor was the animal slow in raising the scent of the fugitive. Only a few hundred paces into the run, the great grey beast gave out with a loud baying yelp and leapt ahead, straining at the leash-and the party was away once more. This time, they were led directly to the tree where Ifor and Brocmael had hidden Brocmael's spear a few days earlier, the hound bawling and barking all the way. Upon arrival, the hunters discovered a heap of filthy rags-the prisoner's ratty clothes, now cast aside.
The dog handler picked up the heap of rags and showed it to the earl, whose eyes narrowed. 'He is smart, this one,' he said with grudging appreciation. 'But it will take more than that to throw one of my dogs off the scent.' To the handler, he said, 'Give him to mark.'
The handler shoved the bundle against the dog's muzzle to renew the scent, and the hound began circling the tree to raise the trail. Once, and again, and then three more times-but each time the beast stopped in the place where the clothes had lain, confusing himself the more and frustrating his handler.
'We must raise another scent, my lord,' reported the handler at last. 'This trail is tainted.'
'Tainted!' growled Hugh. 'The man shed his clothes is all. Give the hound his head and he will yet raise the trail.'
The handler loosed the hound from the leash and urged it to search a wider area around the tree. This time the dutiful hound came to stand before Count Rexindo, who gazed placidly down from his saddle as the dog bayed at him. 'Lontano!' said the count, waving the dog away.
The handler pulled the animal off, but time and again, the fuddled dog ran between the heap of clothing on the ground and Count Rexindo on his horse. Finally, the handler picked up some of the rags and gave them a sniff himself. Then, approaching the earl, he handed up the rags. 'There is some mischief here, Sire,' he said. 'As you will see.'
The earl gave the scraps a sniff and straightened in the saddle. 'What?' He sniffed again. 'What is that?'
'Lavender, methinks,' replied the handler. 'Tainted, as I said.'
The earl looked around suspiciously. 'How in the devil's name…?'
Count Rexindo, impatient and keen to be off, spoke up, and Alan offered, 'The count says that clearly the dog is useless. Our prey cannot be far away. He suggests we spread out and raise the trail ourselves.'
'Yes, yes,' replied Earl Hugh. 'You heard him, eh?' he said to the Ffreinc noblemen. 'Go to it-and give a shout when you find the trail.'
So all scattered, each a separate way. The count led the search farther down the run, and several of the Ffreinc followed that way. Bishop Balthus led lords Galindo and Ramiero to the opposite side of the run and began searching there-all of them knowing full well that Gruffydd would not be found.
CHAPTER 20
Caer Rhodl
Merian's fingernails dug deep grooves in her palm, and she fought to control the rage she felt roiling inside her. She did not expect the ladies Neufmarche to understand, much less accept the least part of what she had to tell them. They would refuse to listen, call her liar, heap scorn upon her. So be it.
Her mother and brother, however, could be counted on to support her. Once she had explained what had happened the day she was abducted-as well as all that had happened since-she knew they would rally to her aid without question. She drew a calming breath and organized her thoughts, deciding how she would relate the events of the past two years in the greenwood. Then, raising her head, she squared her shoulders and put her hand to the latch. She pushed open the door to the hall and stepped inside. They were all assembled to hear her: Lady Agnes beside her daughter, Queen Sybil, and in the next seat, her brother, Garran; beside him sat her mother, the dowager Queen Anora. The two Ffreinc women sat erect, grim-faced, clearly unhappy; they had heard the accusations Merian had laid at their feet. Her brother, the king, appeared no happier; drawn and somewhat haggard, he was torn between his own family and that of his new bride. Only her mother looked at all sympathetic, offering her a sad smile, and saying, 'Do come along, Merian. We have been waiting for you.'
'Pray forgive me,' she said, moving farther into the room. She saw there was no chair for herself. Very well, she would stand; it was better this way. Taking her place before them, she folded her hands and glanced at each in turn. 'I see you have been discussing the problem of Merian already.'
'You're not a problem to be solved, my dear,' her mother replied. 'But we thought it wise to talk a little among ourselves before seeing you again. You will appreciate how awkward-'
'Some of the things you have said,' said Lady Agnes. 'These allegations-'
'If it please you, my lady,' interrupted Garran, 'we will yet come to that. First,' he declared, turning to face his sister, 'I want you to know that these are grave charges you have made, and we are taking them very seriously.'
'Naturally,' replied Merian, feeling more and more like a criminal with each passing moment. She rankled against the feeling. 'Be assured, Brother, I would not have declared them if they were not true.'
'We do not doubt you, Merian,' her mother put in quickly. 'But you must see how difficult this has become-'
