bent to Angharad, but Bran said, “Wait. Bring her Bird Spirit cloak and put it on her. And her staff. We will bury her as befits the last True Bard of Britain.”
Owain fetched the black-feathered cloak and helped Bran wrap it around the old woman, and the two bodies were laid to rest in the soft earth. Iwan brought Angharad’s harp to place in the grave, but Bran prevented him. “No,” he said, taking the harp. “This I will keep.” As he cradled the harp to his shoulder, his mind flashed with the memory of one of their last partings. “All that needs saying have I said,” his Wise Banfáith had told him. “Now it is for us to remember.”
He held the harp, and his mind returned to the time of their first meeting—in the old woman’s winter cave hidden deep in the forest. There, she had healed his body with her art, and healed his soul with her songs. “A raven you are, and a raven you shall remain—until the day you fulfil your vow,” Bran murmured, remembering the words of the old story. He turned his eyes one last time to the face of his friend—a face he had once considered almost unutterably ugly: the wide, downturned mouth and jutting chin; the bulbous nose; the small, keen eyes burning out from a countenance so wrinkled it seemed to be nothing but creases, lines, and folds. Death had not improved her appearance, but Bran had long ago ceased to regard her looks, seeing instead only the bright-burning radiance of a soul alight with wisdom. “She called me a king.”
“My lord?” said Iwan. “Did you say something?”
“She had never done that before, you see? Not until now.”
Darkness deepened in the greenwood. The Grellon lit pitch torches at the head of each body and began a service for the dead which Tuck led, praying softly through the Psalms and the special prayers for those recently deceased. It was a service he had performed as many times as christenings and weddings combined, and he knew it by heart.
The mourners held vigil through the night. Bran, Scarlet, and Noín kept watch while others came and went silently, or with a few words of comfort and condolence. Twice in the night, Bran was heard to groan, his shoulders heaving with silent sobs. The tie that had bound him and Angharad together was strong, and it had been cruelly severed, the wound deep and raw.
Then, at sunrise, the Grellon gathered at the graveside. Tuck said another prayer for the dead and for those who must resume life without them. Noín and Will wept as the dirt was replaced and heaped over the mounds. Bran pressed the small wooden crosses he had made into the graves and then knelt, solemn but dry-eyed, and said a last, silent farewell to the woman who had saved his life. Then, while the rest of the forest-dwellers prepared to abandon Cél Craidd, Tuck went to look in on Tomas. Bran joined him a little later to ask after his injured archer. “My lord,” said Tuck softly, “I fear we have lost a good warrior.”
“No . . .” sighed Bran.
“His wounds were greater than we knew,” the friar explained. “I think he must have died in the night. I am sorry.” He looked sadly at the still body beside him. “If my skill had been greater, I might have saved him.”
“And if there had been no battle and he had not been wounded . . .” Bran shook his head and let the rest go unsaid. He pressed a hand to Tomas’s chest and thanked the dead warrior for his good service, and released him to his rest. Then, bidding Tuck to have the body prepared for burial, he rose and went to dig another grave.
CHAPTER 38
Caer Rhodl
When were you going to tell me that Friar Tuck had been here?” asked Mérian, her tone deceptively sweet. “Or did you plan to tell me at all, brother mine?”
“I did not think it any of your concern,” answered Garran dismissively. He leaned back in his chair and regarded his sister with suspicion. And then the thought struck him. “But how did you know they had come here?”
Mérian offered Garran a superior smile. “Bran has been a visitor to these halls more often than you know. Did you really think he would leave without seeing me?”
The king of Eiwas remained unmoved. “You said you wanted to speak to me. I hope it was not