I stopped walking and looked at him. “On my life, I am.”
“Good. Bran has need of men he can trust.”
“As do we all, Friar. As do we all.”
He nodded and we resumed our walk. The light was fading as the short winter day dwindled down.
“You said you lost your living,” he said after a moment. “I would hear that tale now, if nothing prevents you.”
“Nothing to tell you haven’t heard before, I’ll warrant,” I replied, and explained how I had been in service to Thane Aelred, who ran afoul of King William the Red during the accession struggle. “As punishment, the king burned the village and claimed the lands under Forest Law.” I went on to describe how I had wandered about, working for bread and bed and, hearing about King Raven, decided to try to find him if I could. “I found Iwan and Siarles first, and they brought me to Cél Craidd, where Bran took pity on me. What about you, Tuck? How did an upright priest like yourself come to have a place in this odd flock?”
“They came to me,” he replied. “On their way to Lundein, they were, and stopped for a night under the roof of my oratory.” He lifted a palm upward. “God did the rest.”
By the time we returned to the settlement, the first stars were peeking through the clouds in the east. A great fire blazed in the ring outside Bran’s hut, and there was a fine fat pig a-sizzle on a spit. A huge kettle of spiced ale was steaming in the coals; the cauldron was surrounded by spatchcocks splayed on willow stakes, and the savory scent brought the water to my mouth.
With the help of some of the children, Tuck and I placed pine branches over the doors of the huts and around the edge of the fire ring itself. At Bran’s hut and those of Angharad and Mérian, and Iwan and Siarles, we also fixed a sprig or two of the holly we had cut. A few of the smaller girls begged sprigs for themselves and plaited them into their hair.
As soon as the ale was ready, everyone rushed to the fire ring with their cups and bowls to raise the first of a fair many healths to each other and to the day. As wives and husbands pledged their cups to one another, I lofted my cup to Brother Tuck. “Was hale!” I cried.
Ruddy face beaming, he gave out a hearty, “Drink hale!” And we drank to one another.
Bran and Mérian, I noticed, shared a most cordial sip between them, and the way those two regarded one another over the rim of the cup sent a pang of longing through me, sharp and swift as if straight from the bow. I think I was not the only one sensing this particular lack, for as I turned around I glimpsed Nóin standing a little off to one side, watching the couples with a wistful expression on her face.
“A health to you, fair lady,” I called, raising my cup to her across the fire.
Smiling brightly, she stepped around the ring to touch the rim of her cup to mine. “Health and strength to you, Will Scarlet,” she said, her voice dusky and low.
We drank together, and she moved closer and, wrapping an arm around my waist, hooked a finger in my belt. “God’s blessing on you this day, and through all the year to come.”
“And to you and yours,” I replied. Glancing around, I asked, “Where is the little ’un?”
“Playing with the other tads. Why?”
“There will be no keeping them abed tonight,” I suggested, watching the excited youngsters kicking up the snow in their games.
“Nor, perhaps, their elders,” Nóin said, offering me a smile that was both shy and seasoned. Oh, she knew the road and where it led; she had travelled it, but was a mite uncertain of her footing just then. It opened a place in my heart, so.
Well, we talked a little, and I remembered all over again how easy she was to be near, and how the firelight flecked her long, dark hair with red, like tiny sparks. She was the kind of woman a man would find comfortable to have around day in, day out, if he should be so fortunate.
I was on the point of asking her to join me at table for the feast