Daughter of Time (Prequel to The After Cilmeri Series)

Daughter of Time (Chapter Ten)

Llywelyn

"My lord!"

The young soldier, Bevyn, trotted across the hall to the high table where I sat in a moment of idleness, watching Marged play chess with Goronwy. Marged claimed only a passing knowledge of the game but I thought I'd let Goronwy have a go at her before I tried, just in case. I could stand to lose, but I'd like to see it happen to someone else first.

The boy came to a halt in front of us. He bowed to me, but then turned to Goronwy.

"Yes, Bevyn," Goronwy said, still focused on his game. "I'm busy."

"Busy losing, looks like," he said, "if you don't mind my saying so."

"I do mind, young man," Goronwy said, looking up, "but I forgive you if you give me an excuse to bow out of the game. What is it?"

"It's the village, sir," Bevyn said. "Sir Hywel requests your presence there. They've returned."

"The villagers have returned?" I asked. "All of them?"

"They're back in their homes, not happy to be lacking possessions, but taking up their lives again," Bevyn said.

"Did they say what happened?"

"I don't know," Bevyn said. "Sir Hywel sent me to you straight away."

"We'll come." I turned to Marged. "Sorry to postpone the drubbing, Marged, but we're off. Kiss Anna for me when she wakes."

Marged's face went suddenly blank, and then cleared. "Yes, Llywelyn," she said.

I nodded and stepped off the dais, though Marged's look had taken me aback. What was wrong? I put it away. Either she'd tell me or she wouldn't and I didn't have time to draw it out of her.

It was only three miles to the village; I took ten men with me, plus Goronwy. We didn't cross through the Gap, but all of us gave the road ahead an extra look before turning onto the track that headed east to the village just before we reached the ambush site.

"A bad business, my lord," Goronwy said.

"Indeed," I said, thinking of Geraint's funeral the day before. It had been cold enough outside that we could wait to bury him until Tudur arrived. He'd ridden in on the first clear day after the snowstorm, bringing another twenty men with him. I'd sent him with Hywel today, thinking that it would do him good to get his mind off his father's death. Now I wasn't so sure.

We rode onto the village green, now cleared of debris. The grass had blackened where the fire had burned, while the snow around the edges of the village had melted off into a frozen mud that cracked as we walked across it. I checked the sky. Geraint would have told me a thaw was in the offing. Damn, I miss him.

Hywel was off his horse, talking to a peasant in a ragged brown cloak. Tudur had been watching for us. I caught his eye and he came over as I dismounted.

"What's the story?" I said.

"They were paid, my lord," Tudur said.

"Paid?" Goronwy said from behind me.

"The headman says a nobleman came to them, one Rhys ap Gruffydd," Tudur said. "Rhys had a dozen men with him. He sat on his horse, threw the headman a sack full of coins and told him they had two hours to get out of the village.

Goronwy scoffed at that. "Rhys ap Gruffydd? Who's that? One of Gwenwynwyn's bastards?"

"I find it hard to believe a man would give up his home so easily," I said.