and I have not yet begun to pay my own.'
'A very great pity, yes,' Tuck allowed.
'Pitie, oui,' sighed William. 'Tres grande pitie.'
'Begging your pardon, mon roi,' said Tuck. 'I am but a lowly priest, but it seems to me that the way out of your predicament is not more money, but fewer souls.'
'Eh?' said William, only half paying attention. 'Fewer souls?'
'Do not kill any more soldiers.'
The king laughed outright. 'You know little about warring, priest! Un innocent! I like you. Soldiers get killed in battle; that is the whole point.'
'So I am told,' replied Tuck. 'But is there no other way?'
'It could all be settled tomorrow-Dieu sang, today!-if the blasted Welsh would only lay down their weapons. But they have raised rebellion against me, and that I will not have!'
'A great dilemma for you,' conceded Tuck. 'I see that.'
Before he could say more, William continued. 'This cantref infortune has already cost me more than it will ever return. And if I do not collect my tribute in Normandie in six days' time, I will lose those too. Philip will see to that.'
Tuck seized on this. 'All the more reason to make peace with these rebels. If they agreed to lay down their arms and swear fealty to you-'
'Et payer le tribut royal,' added William quickly.
'Yes, and pay the royal tribute, to be sure,' agreed Tuck. 'Your Majesty would not have to feed an army or pay for the souls of the dead. Also you could go to Normandie and collect the tribute that is due-all this would save the royal treasury a very great load of silver, would it not?'
'Par le vierge! Save a great load of silver, yes.'
Tuck, hardly daring to believe that he was not in a dream, but unwilling to wake up just yet, decided to press his luck as far as it would go. 'Again, forgive me, mon roi, but why not ask for terms of peace? This rebel-King Raven, I believe they call him-has said that all he wants is to rule his realm in peace. Even now, I believe he could be convinced to swear fealty to you in exchange for reclaiming his throne.'
There was a long and, Tuck imagined, baleful silence on the other side of the curtain. He feared the king was deciding how to slice him up and into how many pieces.
Finally,William said, 'I think you are a man of great faith.' The wistful longing in that voice cut at Tuck's heart. 'If I could believe this…'
'Believe it, Sire,' said Tuck. 'For it is true.'
'If I am seen to allow rebellion, every hand will be raised against me.'
'Perhaps,' granted Tuck. 'But if you are seen to practice mercy, it would inspire others to greater loyalty, would it not?' He paused. 'The sword is always close to hand.'
'Helas, c'est vrai,' granted the king.
'Alas, yes, it is too true.'
There was silence again then. Tuck could not tell what was happening beyond the curtain. He prayed William was seriously considering the idea of suing for peace.
When he spoke again, the king said, 'Will you yet shrive me?'
'That is why I am here. Bow your head, my son, and we begin,' replied Tuck, and proceeded with the ritual. When at last the king rose to depart, he thanked his priest and walked from the church without another word.
Tuck waited until he heard the sound of horses in the square, and then crept to the door. King William and his knights were riding away in the grey dawn of a new day. He waited until they were out of sight and then ran to his own horse and flew to the greenwood as if all the hounds of hell were at his heels.
CHAPTER 41
The sun was well up and climbing towards the tops of the higher trees by the time Tuck reached the safety of the greenwood. The combined armies of Cymry rebels were already amassing at the edge of the forest. Hampered by the trees and undergrowth, Tuck worked his way along the battle line, searching for Bran. By the time he found him, the sun was that much higher and the assault that much nearer.
'Bran!' cried Tuck. 'Thank God, I've found you in time.' He slid from the saddle and ran to where Bran was waiting with Scarlet, Owain, and his own small war band, engulfed and surrounded by King Gruffydd's troops and those of the northern lords. 'I bring word-'
'Be quick about it,' Bran told him. 'I am just about to give the command-'
'No!' said Tuck, almost frantic. 'Forgive me, my lord, but do nothing until you've heard what I have to say.'
'Very well,' Bran agreed. He called across to Gruffydd and Llewelyn, who were standing a little apart. 'Stand ready to march as soon as I have returned.' To Tuck, he said, 'Come with me.'
He led them a little way into the wood, to a place where they would not be overheard. 'Well? Is the bishop able to get a message to the caer?'
It took a moment for the priest to recall his original errand. 'Oh, that, yes.' Tuck licked his lips and swallowed. 'I have seen the king.'
'The king… Red William?'
'The same,' replied the friar, and explained what had happened in the town-how he had been surprised by Ffreinc riders and hid himself in the church, how William had mistaken him for one of the abbey priests and asked to be shriven, and their talk about the rebellion.
'Did you shrive him?'
'I did, yes, but-'
'So that means they intend to attack today,' concluded Bran. 'Well done, Tuck; it confirms us in our plan. We will strike without delay.' He started away.
'That is not all,' said Tuck. 'The king was distraught about the cost of this war. It weighs heavily with him. He stands to lose his tribute money from Normandie.'
'Good.'
'Above all else he desires a swift end to this conflict,' Tuck explained. 'I believe he would be moved towards peace.'
'That he will not have,' declared Bran. 'And you are certain Bishop Asaph will warn Iwan and Siarles at the fortress?'
'He will.'
'Then all is ready.' He commended Tuck for his diligence, and returned to the battle line, where he gave a nod to Gruffydd, Llewelyn, and the others. 'God with you today, my lords, and with us all,' he called, and raising his warbow, he gave the signal to move out.
The massed armies of Cymry archers and Ffreinc soldiers under the command of Baron Neufmarche slowly moved out from the shelter of Coed Cadw; the knights on horseback and the Cymry on foot, they marched down the slope and into the Vale of Elfael. Their appearance threw William's troops into a chaos of frantic activity as the alarms were sounded through the various camps. The knights, men-at-arms, and footmen were well trained, however, and hastily mustered for battle. As the Cymry drew nearer, the Ffreinc moved to meet them, first one division and then another until the gaps in the line were filled and they had formed a single, dense body of soldiers-the knights in the centre, flanked by the footmen.
Tuck, with his staff, taking his place behind Bran and Scarlet, found himself walking beside Owain. 'Whatever happens today,' said the young warrior, 'I would have you say a prayer for me, Friar.'
'And here I have been praying for us all since first light, have I not?'
'Then,' said Owain, 'I will pray for you, Friar Tuck.'
'Do that, boyo,' agreed Tuck. 'You do that.'
The Cymry moved slowly down from the forest, spreading out along the rim of the valley a little north of the King's Road so that when they attacked the sun would be at their backs and in the eyes of the enemy. They came
