affection; I glimpsed in this something of the respect and high regard this simple monk enjoyed amongst the Grellon. The king of England might receive similar adulation on his travels, I’ll warrant, but little of the fondness.
“God with you, Friar,” said Mérian, stepping forward to bless our visitor. “May your sojourn here well become you.” She smiled and bent at the waist to bestow a kiss on his cheek. Then, taking that same round red cheek between finger and thumb, she gave it a pinch. “That is for leaving without wishing me farewell the last time!”
“A mistake I’ll not be making twice,” replied Tuck, rubbing his cheek. He turned as Angharad pushed forward to greet him. “Bless my soul, Angharad, you look even younger than the last time I saw you.”
Wise and powerful she may be, but Angharad was still lady enough to smile at the shameless compliment. “Peace attend thee, friend friar,” she said, her wrinkled face alight.
“Brother Tuck!” cried Iwan, and instantly gathered the sturdy friar in a rib-cracking embrace. “It is that good to see you.”
“And you,Wee John,” retorted the priest, giving the warrior a clip ’round the ear. “I’ve missed you and all.” Iwan set him down, and the priest gazed at the ring of happy faces around him. “Well, Bran, and I see you and your flock have fared well enough without me.” Adjusting his robe to cover his cold bare legs once more, he then raised his hands in a priestly benediction. “God’s peace and mercy on us all, and may our Kind Redeemer send the comfort of this blesséd season to cheer our hearts and heal our careworn souls.”
Everyone cried “Amen!” to that, and when Tuck turned back to Bran, he said, “Some new faces, I see.”
“One or two,” confirmed Bran. He grasped the priest’s hands in his own, then presented the newcomers; I found myself last among them. “And this one here,” he said, pulling me forward, “is the newest member of our growing flock and as handy with a bow as King Raven himself.”
“That’s saying something, that is,” remarked Tuck.
“Will Scatlocke, at your service,” I said, thrusting out my hand to him.
He took it in both his own and shook it heartily. “Our Lord’s abundant peace to you, Will Scatlocke.”
“And to you, Friar. See now, two Saxons fallen among Welshmen,” I said in English.
He cast a shrewd eye over me. “Is that the north country I hear in your voice?”
“Oh, aye,” I confessed. “Deny it, I’ll not. Your ear is sharp as Queen Meg’s needle, Friar.”
“Born within sight of York Minster, was I not? But tell me, how did you come to take roost among these strange birds?”
“Lost my living to William Rufus—may God bless his backside with boils!—and so I came west,” I told him, and explained quickly how, after many months of living rough and wandering, Bran had taken me in.
“Enough!” cried Bran. “There is time for all that later. We have Christmas tomorrow and a celebration to prepare!”
Ah, Christmas . . . how long had it been since I had celebrated the feast day of Our Sweet Saviour in proper style? Years, at least—not since I had sat at table in Thane Aelred’s hall with a bowl of hot punch between my hands and a huge pig a-roasting on the spit over red-hot coals in the hearth. Glad times. I have always enjoyed the Feast of Christ—the food and song and games . . . everything taken together, it is the best of all the holy days, and that is how it should be.
I did not know how the Cymry hereabouts celebrated the Christ Mass, and nursed the strong suspicion that if Friar Tuck had not arrived when he did, King Bran’s pitiable flock would have had little with which to make their cheer. But when his pack mule arrived a short while later, it was clear that the friar had brought Christmas with him.
Within moments, he seemed to be everywhere at once, kindling the banked coals of the forest-dwellers’ hearts—a word of greeting here, a song there, a laugh or a story to lift the spirits of our downcast tribe. Bless him, he fanned the cold embers of joy into a cracking fine blaze.
Although they have adopted some of the more common Saxon practices, the Britons appeared not to observe the trimming of pine boughs, so it fell to Tuck and me to arrange this part of the festivities. The day had cleared somewhat, with bright blue