lighter of step. There among the trees the weary, heartsick band began to heal the wounded memories of the last days-the betrayal of the Ffreinc king, the treachery of the Black Abbot, the fierce and bloody battle, and their anxious flight.
Though they had escaped the battle without fatality-a few of the men suffered cuts and bruises, one a broken arm, and another a deep sword wound to the thigh-the carnage had exacted a toll that only became apparent in the days that followed. For most of the Grellon the panic and horror of that day was a plague that worked away on their souls, and they were infected with it.
Thus, soul-sick and exhausted they crept back into the solace of the greenwood to heal the raw, inflamed wounds of their memories, arriving at Cel Craidd to the great relief of those who had been left to look after the settlement in their absence.
The watchers had seen them on the road and hastened back to prepare a welcome: jars of cool water flavoured with elderflower blossoms and honey seed cakes to restore their strength. But the travellers were in no mood to rejoice, and their stark response to what should have been a glad homecoming soon dashed any notions of celebration. 'Something is amiss, my lord,' observed Henwydd delicately; an older man, he had been given the care of Cel Craidd in Bran's absence. 'Forgive me if I speak in error, but the faces I see around me would be better suited to a funeral party, not a homecoming.'
'How can it be otherwise?' said Bran, his voice thick with bitterness. 'The black-hearted English king broke his promise. The realm belongs to the Ffreinc, and we are outlaws still.'
'Sooner have milk from a stone,' grumbled Iwan, following Bran, 'than get satisfaction from a Norman.'
Angharad arranged her wrinkled face into a sad smile. She thanked Henwydd and the others for their thoughtfulness and accepted a drink from the welcome cup. Then, taking her leave of Bran and the others, she shuffled slowly to her hut.
'Did Red William not redeem your throne?' asked another, pressing forward.
'He did not,' answered Bran. 'Count Falkes is banished to Normandie with his uncle the Baron de Braose, and Elfael is claimed by the king.'
'Bloody Black Abbot Hugo and his gutless marshal, Gysburne, are placed over us for our care and protection,' growled Siarles.
'Then we won't be going home,' said Henwydd.
'No,' Bran replied. 'We stay here-for now, at least.'
'Are we to remain in the forest forever?' asked Teleri, another who had remained behind. An older woman, she had lost all she had to the Ffreinc when the count took her house for the new church. There were tears in her eyes as the meaning of Bran's words broke upon her.
Merian had come to stand beside Bran; she reached out and put her arm around the woman's shoulders to comfort her. 'We have endured the forest this long,' Merian said, 'what is another season or two?'
'Season or two?' said Henwydd, growing angry. 'Why not ten or twenty?'
'If you have something to say,' Bran replied sternly, 'go on, say it. Speak your mind.'
'We believed in you, my lord. We trusted you. I have suffered this outlaw life for the hope of the deliverance you promised. But I cannot abide another season scrabbling hand to mouth in the greenwood. It is no fit life, and I am too old.'
Others, too, spoke out against the desperate life in the forest, with its darkness and dangers-exposure, privation, and the constant fear of discovery. If the Ffreinc didn't kill them, they said, the wolves would. They had followed Bran this far, but now that there was no hope of justice to be had from the Ffreinc, it was time to think what was best for themselves. 'William the Red commands armies beyond number,' one man said. 'We cannot fight them all, and only a fool would try.'
Bran glowered, but held his tongue.
'I am sorry, my lord,' continued Henwydd, 'but you see how it is. I beg leave to quit the forest. I have never asked anything of you, but I'm asking you now to grant me leave to depart.'
'And where will you go?' asked Merian.
'Well,' considered the old man, 'I have kinsmen still in Dyfed. It may be they will take me in. But whether they do or don't makes no matter, 'cause anywhere is better than here.'
'There we have it,' Bran said, eyes alight and voice cold. He turned and addressed the rest of the settlement. 'Who else feels this way? Who else wants to leave the forest?' He swung around, his voice attacking. 'Iwan? Will Scarlet? Siarles, what about you? Merian-God knows you've wanted to leave often enough, why not go now?' He glared around at the ring of grim faces. None would meet his ferocious stare.
Merian, standing beside Tuck, grasped the friar's hand. 'Oh, no,' she breathed, tears starting to her eyes. Tuck grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze.
'Who else is for leaving?' demanded Bran. 'If you would go, speak up. All who wish to leave may go with my blessing. I do not force anyone to stay who would not do so gladly and of their own accord.'
There was an instant commotion at this, and the forest-dwellers began arguing it over amongst themselves. Some were for leaving, others for staying, and all shouting to be heard and convince the rest. Bran let this continue until most had had a chance to speak out, then said, 'Well? What say you? Anyone else want to go? Step up and take your place with Henwydd. For all saints bear witness, I do not care to stand with anyone who does not care to stand with me.'
At first, no one moved, and then, one by one, others joined Henwydd until a group of seventeen men and women, some with children, stood together in a dismal clump.
'So, now,' Bran, his face hard, addressed those who had chosen to leave. 'Gather your things and make ready to depart-take whatever you need for your journey. If you would have my advice, wait until the sun goes down and make your way by night; you should avoid any Ffreinc and reach the borders of Elfael before sunrise tomorrow. I bid you God's speed, and may you all fare well.'
With that, he turned and strode to his hut.
A shocked and dismayed Cel Craidd watched him go. Iwan and Siarles looked on aghast, and Scarlet and Merian began to persuade those who had decided to leave that they were making a mistake-but thought better of it. The tight bond between King Raven and his proud Grellon was broken; the settlement was divided and there was nothing anyone could do.
Later, as twilight deepened the shadows in the wood, Friar Tuck called the people together for a prayer of thanks for their deliverance from the hands of the enemy and for a safe return, and for the future of the realm. He then led his discouraged flock in a hymn; he sang the first verses alone, but soon everyone joined in, lifting their voices and singing loudly as the moon rose in the pale blue sky. Neither Bran nor Angharad attended the prayer service, but the banfaith appeared after sundown when the first of those leaving the forest settlement were setting off. Gripping her staff, she offered blessings for the journey and safe arrivals for all who would travel that night.
The next morning after breaking fast, the remaining Grellon resumed their chores; there was more work now that a fair number of the most able-bodied had gone. As those who remained took stock of their numbers it was clear that others, unwilling to be seen by their friends, had departed silently during the night. Taking a silent tally, they soon realized that fewer than half their number remained.
With heavy hearts they set to and were just discussing how to divide the duties of the day and the days to come when Angharad called all Cel Craidd to gather at the Council Oak in the centre of the settlement. As the forest-dwellers assembled beneath the spreading boughs of the great, grey giant, they found Bran seated in his chair made of ash branches lashed together and covered by a bearskin. Bran looked like a Celtic king of old-an impression only strengthened by the long-beaked mask of King Raven that lay at his feet. Angharad stood behind her king, wearing the Bird Spirit cloak and holding a long, thin, rodlike staff in her right hand.
As soon as everyone had settled themselves close about this primitive throne, the banfaith raised the staff and said, 'Heed the Head of Wisdom and attend her counsel. You are summoned here to uphold your king in his deliberations with strong consideration. Therefore, make keen your thoughts and carefully attend your words, for the course we determine here among us will be the life and death of many.'
She paused, and Bran said, 'If anyone here does not wish to bear this burden, you may leave now in peace. But if you stay, you will agree to abide by the decisions we shall make and pledge life, strength, and breath to fulfil them whatever they shall be.'
Iwan, grim and deeply aggrieved, spoke for them all when he said, 'Those who wanted to leave have gone,
