oaken shaft of his brass-topped crosier, and Odo clutching a big Bible.
The king of England was accompanied by a dozen knights, Marshal Guy of Gysburne amongst them. Around the perimeter of the yard stood the people of Elfael. Outside the walls of the fortress, the army was drawn up and waiting. Beyond them, on the heights above the valley, the Cymry kings and their archers kept watch on the proceedings. If William’s army moved to attack, they would move to prevent it.
William Rufus rode to the centre of the yard, where his personal canopy had been set up. He dismounted and was greeted by Bran. Mérian and Baron Neufmarché joined them to make certain that no misunderstandings arose because of a simple lack of language on either side. A small table had been set up beneath the canopy, and two chairs. On the table was a jar and a single bowl.
“Your Majesty,” said Bran, “if it please you, sit with me. We will drink together.”
“I would like nothing better,” said the king. Seeing Neufmarché, he stopped and turned to his wayward vassal. “Baron, do not think that your part in this will be ignored.”
The baron inclined his head in acceptance of the king’s charge, but replied, “What I have done I did for the greater good.”
“Ha!” scoffed the king. “Your own good most of all, I do not doubt. By the Virgin, man, how could you turn against me?”
“It was not so much turning against you, Sire,” replied the baron, “but protecting myself. Even so, it is fortunate that we did not have to try one another in battle.”
“Fortunate, eh?” said the king. “We will talk of this another time.” He moved to take his place beneath the brightly coloured canopy. Bran joined him and sat down, with Mérian on one side and Tuck on the other. The baron stood to one side between the two kings and, acting as steward, poured wine into the bowl. He handed the bowl to Bran, who took it up, drank a draught, and then offered it to William.
Red William accepted the bowl and drank, then returned it to Bran. The back-and-forth continued until the bowl was drained, whereupon Baron Neufmarché refilled it and placed it on the table between them.
“God with you, Your Majesty,” said Bran, who between Mérian and the baron was able to make his thoughts known. “And though we might both wish that the occasion was otherwise, I do bid you welcome to Caer Cadarn and Elfael. It is my hope that we rise from this table better friends than when we sat down.”
“Let us cut to the bone,” replied the king in English. “What are your terms?”
Bran smiled. “I want only what I have always wanted—”
“Your precious throne, yes,” answered the king. “You shall have it. What else?”
“Full pardon for myself and my Grellon, and any who have aided me in returning the realm to my rule,” said Bran. “And that will include Baron Neufmarché.”
The king frowned at this last part when it was explained to him, but gave a grudging nod of assent. “What else?”
“Nothing more,” said Bran. “Only your seal on a treaty of peace between our kingdoms.”
William gave a bark of disbelief when Neufmarché translated Bran’s last remarks. “Nothing else? No reparations? No silver to pay your soldiers?”
“My warriors are mine to repay,” said Bran. “We Cymry take care of our own.”
“I wish every fiefdom took care of itself, by the blood,” replied William. He leaned back in his chair and gave every appearance of beginning to enjoy himself. “If you have nothing else, then hear my terms. I require your oath of fealty and a tribute to be paid each year on . . .” He tapped his chin as he thought, then caught a glimpse of Tuck and said, “You, there, priest—if you are a priest—what is the nearest holy day to this one?”
Tuck moved a step forward. “That would be Gwyl Iwan y Coed,” he replied. “The Feast of Saint John the Baptist, in plain English.”
“John le Baptiste, oui,” said Neufmarché, passing this along to the king.
“Henceforth, on the Feast of Saint John the Baptist, a tribute of . . .” He looked around at the rude fortress and the mean, common dress of the half-starved inhabitants and the grim determination he saw on their faces and made his decision. “A tribute of one good longbow and a sheaf of arrows to be presented to the Royal Court at Londein and given over