hands and eyes on the road; Mérian because the plan was her idea entire, and she would in no wise stay behind in any event.
However, this notion was not without difficulties of its own and, though I was loath to do it, the chore fell to me to point this out. “Forgive me, my lord, if I speak above myself,” I began, “but is it wise for a hostage—begging your pardon, my lady—to . . . well, to be allowed to enter into affairs of such delicacy?”
“You doubt my loyalty?” challenged Mérian, dark eyes all akindle with quick anger. “I thought I knew you better, William Scatlocke.”
“I do heartily beg your pardon, Lady,” I said, raising my hands as if to fend off blows of her fists. “I only meant—”
“Here’s the pot calling the kettle black!” she fumed. “That is rich indeed, my friend!”
Siarles smiled to see me handed my head so skilfully. But Bran waded into the clash. “Mérian, peace. Will is right.”
“Right!” she snapped. “He is a fool, and so are you if you believe for even one heartbeat that I would ever do anything to endanger—”
“Peace, woman!” Bran said, shouting down her objection. “If you would listen for a moment, you would consider that Will has raised a fair point.”
“It is not,” she sniffed. “It is silly and insulting—I don’t know which the more.”
“No, it is neither.” Bran shook his head. “It goes to the heart of things between us. The time has come for you to decide, Mérian Fair.”
“Decide what?” she asked, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“Are you a hostage, or are you one of us?”
She frowned. “You tell me, Bran ap Brychan. What am I to you?”
“You know that right well. I would call you queen if you would but hear it.”
Her frown deepened, and a crease appeared between her brows. She was caught on the thorns this time, no mistake—and she knew it. “See here!” she snapped. “Do not think to make this about that.”
“Say what you will, my lady. It comes ’round to the same place in the end—either you stand with us, join us in heart and spirit or . . .”
“Or?” she replied, haughty in her indignation. “Or what will you do?”
“Or you must stay here like a good little hostage,” Bran replied, “while we enact your plan.”
“That I will not do,” she snipped.
“Then?”
Those of us who stood ’round about found other places to look just then, so as not to be drawn into what had become the latest clash in a royal battle of tempers and wills.
Mérian glared at Bran. She did not like having her loyalty questioned, but even she could see the problem now.
“What will you do?” Bran pressed. “We are waiting.”
“Oh, very well!” she fumed, giving in. “I will forswear my captivity and pledge fealty to you, Bran ap Brychan—but I’ll not marry you.” She smiled with sour sweetness at the rest of us. “There! Are we all happy now?”
“I accept your pledge,” replied Bran, “and release you from your captivity.”
“Then I can go with you?” inquired Mérian, just to make sure.
“My lady, you are a free woman,” granted Bran gently, and I could see how much the words cost him. “You can go with us, or you can simply go. Should you choose to stay, you will be in danger—as you already know.”
“I am not afraid,” she declared. “It is my plan, remember, and I will not have any clod-footed men mucking it up.”
She was not finished yet, for as we gathered to depart, Mérian spied a woman named Cinnia, a slender, dark-eyed young widow a few years older than herself, Mérian’s favourite amongst the forest dwellers—another of the Norman-widowed brides of which there were so many. My lady asked Cinnia to join us. She would serve as a companion for Mérian, who explained, “A woman of rank would never travel alone in the company of men. The Ffreinc understand this. Cinnia will be my handmaid.”
We loaded our supplies and weapons—longbows and sheaves of arrows rolled in deer hides—onto two packhorses. When we were at last ready to depart, Tuck said a prayer for the success of our journey, although he could have no idea what he was praying. Thus blessed, we took our leave. Angharad was still gone, so Tomas and Rhoddi were charged with keeping watch over Cél Craidd and Elfael while Lord Bran was away, and to reach us with a warning if the sheriff got up to anything nasty.