Once the last straggler had passed and the road lay clear, Dybris took Garth’s arm and walked with the other monks to the scriptorium as fast as he could without appearing panicked.
Bursting into the room, Dybris and the others related to Prontwon what they’d seen. The abbot listened to the report with a grave expression on his face, then dispatched a messenger to retrieve Migal and Loyt, who had been preparing the evening meal. Only when all twelve monks, along with Garth, had crowded into the room did Prontwon stand in their midst and address them.
“Hear me! What I have feared and, I am ashamed to say, tried to ignore for the past week has just been confirmed. The old stone circle on the other side of the valley has recently become the home of druidow once more, and from the count you have given, possibly their entire number in the land of the Britons.”
No one moved or made a sound.
“From what you have said, they are headed to the village with some pagan intent. We must follow to know their plans. Brother Migal has brought us bread and a pitcher of water that we may not faint after our labors. However, considering what we may face, I suggest fasting for those who are able.”
Some took bread while others refrained, but all refreshed themselves with the water.
“As the evening closes and we enter the presence of the sworn enemies of our God, let us pray our evening prayer of protection.”
Dybris gave Garth a chunk of crusty bread as the brothers joined voices in song.
And then, with Garth lagging in the back, they set out for the village of Bosventor, following the path of the druidow.
As darkness descended on the smithy, Merlin lay on his straw bed practicing the harp. Over the past ten days, he’d learned to tune it and play a few songs, but his progress was slow. He’d rested under his father’s orders, but now that the burning of his wounds had faded and his fever was but a memory, he yearned to be active again.
The door creaked open, but in the twilight Merlin couldn’t see anyone. “Who’s that?”
“Me.” It was a small voice. “Your sister.”
Just as he thought. “Bar the door behind you.”
“Why?”
“Don’t ask. Where’s Tas? I’ve been expecting him.” He reached for the mug of water next to his bed.
“I’ll get it,” Ganieda said.
She picked up the clay mug, but it slipped from her hands. The vessel shattered and the water spilled.
“I’ll help.” Merlin tried to find the pieces but touched his sister’s trembling hands instead. “What’s wrong?”
“Tas and Mammu left! They told me to stay with you. Let you sleep. But the fire’s dying, and it got dark.”
“Where’d they go?” He found the pitcher next to the broken mug and poured water into his mouth.
Ganieda climbed onto the pallet and sat beside him. “The miller brought a bag of barley after supper. And news. There’s a problem down by the meeting house. The whole village is going to be there.”
“The meeting house? Is someone to be judged?”
It was curious to have a meeting at night. Normally, the village elders met during the day inside the common house, which had been built next to the spring. The only time everyone showed up was to condemn a criminal to death — a rarity that had occurred only once in Merlin’s lifetime. The magister, in consultation with the elders of the village, would make the pronouncement while sitting on what was known as the Rock of Judgment — really just a slab of natural granite that lay on the earth near the meeting house.
Ganieda began to cry. “I don’t know. Tas wanted me to stay, and Mammu wanted me along — and they fought.”
“How long ago?” He reached out and felt her soft hair.
She sniffed. “The sun was on the hearth when they left.”
“Did they say for me to stay?” With his wounds nearly healed, he was looking for any excuse to be up and about.
“No … they didn’t say.”
“Well, then, I’m going.” Merlin found his stiff boots, pulled them on, and tied them. They felt good on his feet after so long.
“You can’t leave,” Ganieda said. “It’s dark!”
“You think that matters to me?” As long as there aren’t any wolves along the path, that is.
And just in case, he snatched up his dirk, slid the scabbard onto his belt, and tied it around his waist.