wishing I’d never a’caught this one. He’s getting to be a handful.”
“Here now,” said Bran, taking the sword. “Stand aside and let’s see who you’ve got.”
Tuck moved away, but kept the staff at the ready.
Bran took hold of the prostrate man’s hair and lifted his head from the ground. “Richard de Glanville!” he exclaimed, his surprise genuine. Glancing around to the friar, he said, “Well done, Tuck. You are a very wonder.” He released his handful of hair, and the groggy head thumped back onto the earth. “With a little luck and Providence on our side, we may reclaim the throne of Elfael far sooner than we ever dared hope.”
“Truly?”
“Aye,” declared Bran, “with the sheriff ’s valuable assistance, of course. But we must act quickly. We cannot give Gysburne and Hugo time to think.”
CHAPTER 29
Well, here’s a prize we never thought to get,” remarked Iwan. He put a hand to the sheriff ’s shoulder and rolled him over onto his back. The sheriff moaned, his eyelids fluttering as he struggled for consciousness, but he made no effort to rise.
Bran had quickly recalled his men, and they gathered once more to receive new instructions. As Bran began to explain what he had in mind, their prisoner regained his senses. “Vous! J’ai pensé j’ai senti la merde,” groaned the sheriff in a voice thick and slurred.
“What did he say?” asked Bran.
“Nothing nice,” replied Tuck. He gave the sheriff a kick with the toe of his shoe and warned him to speak respectfully or keep his mouth shut.
“Me tuer, et est fait.”
“He wants us to kill him now and be done with it,” offered the friar.
“Kill a valuable prisoner like you?” said Bran. Squatting down, he patted the sheriff ’s clothes and felt along his belt before withdrawing a dagger, which he took and handed to Scarlet. “I suppose you’d prefer death just now, but you’ll have to become accustomed to disappointment.” To Tuck, he added, “Tell him what I said.”
Tuck relayed Bran’s words to de Glanville, who groaned and put his face to the ground once more.
“What is in your mind, my lord?” asked Iwan.
“Bind him,” Bran directed, “and get him on his feet. Gysburne and his men will be recovering their courage, and any moment they might take it into their heads to come after us. Siarles, Tomas—see how many arrows you can get from the field, and hurry back.”
The two hurried off, returning a short while later with eight shafts collected in fair condition from dead soldiers, which added to the six they already possessed brought the total to fourteen. “I would there were more, but these will have to do,” Bran said. “Pray it is enough.” He gave arrows to each of the archers, save the wounded Owain and himself. Instead, he shouldered his bow and took the sheriff ’s sword, and instructed Tuck to ask de Glanville where the Ffreinc had hidden their horses.
Tuck did so, and received a terse reply—to which Tuck responded with another sharp rap of his staff against the sheriff ’s shins. De Glanville let out a yelp of pain and spat a string of words. “He says they’re behind the rocks,” reported Tuck, pointing a short distance away to a heap of boulders half covered in ivy and bracken.
While Siarles and Rhoddi collected the horses, Bran turned to Owain. “Do you think you can ride?”
His face was white and he was sweating, but his voice was steady as he replied, “I can ride, my lord.”
“Very well.” Bran nodded. He turned to Tomas. “I’m sending you and Owain back to Cél Craidd. Tell Angharad and the others what has happened, and to see to Owain’s wound. Then get Alan and bring him. The two of you meet us on the road—the place near the stream where the willows grow.”
Tomas nodded. “I know the place.”
“Then go. Ride like the devil himself was on your tail.” To the others Bran said, “Find us something to drink and be ready to ride as soon as Siarles and Rhoddi return with the horses.”
“What about the wagons?” asked Iwan.
“Leave them,” said Bran. “If all goes well, we will own not only the wagons but all the rest of Elfael before nightfall.”
The graves had been dug outside the abbey walls and the first bodies were being laid to rest under the solemn gaze of Captain Aloin and the chanting of Psalms from some of Saint Martin’s monks when one of the gravediggers glanced up and saw, in the crimson light