beech trees where they had camped. “To arms! The Ffreinc are coming!”
The two men appeared, drawing their swords as they ran. Iwan took in the situation at a glance, thrust his sword into the turf, and raced back for his longbow. Tuck reached the shelter of the trees and threw himself from the saddle as Iwan appeared, clutching two bow staves in one hand and a sheaf of arrows in the other. “There are four of them!” cried Tuck. “Bran has a woman with him and cannot outpace them much longer. We had but a few yards’ start on them.”
“Four only?” said Iwan, tossing a bow to Siarles. “The way you were shouting, I thought all the Normans in England were on your tail—and their hounds as well.”
“What woman?” wondered Siarles, bracing the bow against his leg to string it.
A cry arose from the rim of the dell. They turned to see Bran pounding down the gentle slope, encumbered by a squirming, screaming female. His mount was tired and clearly labouring. Even as they watched, he was overtaken by the two Ffreinc knights sweeping up behind him with swords raised.
“For the love of God!” cried Tuck. “Hurry!”
“All in good time, brother,” said Iwan, passing a handful of arrows to Siarles. “It does not do to hurry an archer. It makes him miss.”
With quick downward jabs, the two stuck the arrows point first in the turf and, plucking one each, nocked it to the string.
“Left!” said Iwan.
“Right!” answered Siarles, and with almost languid motion, the two pressed the longbows forward as if trying to step through them. There was a single dull thrum and fizzing hiss as the arrows flew. The knight on the left, standing in his stirrups, his arm raised high, ready to begin the fatal downward slash with his blade, was struck in the centre of the chest. Already unbalanced, the impact slammed him backward over the rump of his horse, dead when he hit the ground. The rider on the right had time but to glance once at the suddenly empty saddle of his companion before Siarles’s arrow buried itself in his chest. The sword spun from his hand, and he clutched the arrow, fighting to turn his galloping mount—a fight he lost when Siarles’s second arrow struck just below the first and knocked him from the saddle.
Bran galloped on. The two remaining knights appeared on the rim of the dell and started down. “Left!” said Iwan again and loosed. The arrow, a blurred streak in the air, seemed to lift the soldier up ever so slightly as the horse ran out from under him.
The sole remaining knight must have seen the two rider-less horses breaking off to the side, for he tried to halt his headlong pursuit. With a cry of dismay, he jerked the reins back hard. The horse’s churning hooves slipped in the long grass, and the animal slid. The knight, occupied with his stumbling mount, did not see the arrow that flung him from the saddle. He landed heavily on his side, rolled over, and did not move again.
“Get their horses!” shouted Bran to Siarles as he reined his lathered mount to a halt. “Tuck! Iwan! Break camp. It will not be long before Neufmarché realises his knights are not coming back—and then he will come in force.” The two hurried off to gather the water and provisions and saddle the horses.
“Let me go!” shouted Mérian, scratching at Bran’s hands.
He released his hold and let her fall. She landed in an awkward sprawl, her mantle sliding up over bare legs. Her shoes had come loose and been lost in the mad dash from the baron’s camp. “You did that on purpose!” she raged, pulling down her mantle and scrambling to her feet. Bran slid down from the saddle. Livid with rage, dark eyes ablaze, Mérian flew at him with her fists. “How dare you! I am not a sack of grain to be picked up and thrown over your shoulder. I demand—”
“Enough!” Bran snapped, grabbing both of her wrists in one strong hand.
“Take me back at once.”
“So your friend the baron can carve my head from my shoulders?” he said. “No, I think I would rather live a little longer.”
“My father will do the same unless you let me go. Whatever trouble you’re in will not be helped by taking me. I am certain that it can be cleared up if we all