"And if they refuse?" asked the champion.

"Use whatever force you deem necessary," Bran replied. "But only that and no more. All who comply willingly are to be sent on their way in peace."

"Nothing will get past us, my lord. I know what to do."

"Siarles," said Bran, "you and Tomas are to begin making arrows. We'll need as many as we can get-and we'll need bows too."

"And where will we be getting the wood for all these bows and arrows?" asked Siarles.

"Wood for bows, I know, and where to find it," Angharad said, speaking up from her place behind Bran's chair. "We will bring all you need, Gwion Bach and I."

Bran nodded. "The rest of the Grellon are to be trained to the longbow."

"Women too?" asked Merian.

"Yes," confirmed Bran. "Women too." He turned to Will Scarlet.

"Until your hand is healed, you will teach others what you know about the bow."

"That much is easily done," said Scarlet. "It's the trainin' that takes the time."

"Then start at once. Today."

Owain, one of the newer members of the council, asked, "You said you meant to raise more men. What is in your mind, my lord, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I have kinsmen among my mother's people in Gwynedd," replied Bran. "I mean to start there. Once the word spreads that we are gathering a force to overthrow the Ffreinc, I have no doubt we'll soon get all the warriors we need."

"There are warriors nearby that are yours for the asking," Merian pointed out. "I have but to go to my father and-"

"No," said Bran firmly.

"The fact is, my father-"

"Your father is a vassal of Baron Neufmarche," Bran said in a pained tone, "a fact you seem determined to ignore."

Merian opened her mouth to object, but Bran cut her off, saying, "That is the end of it."

Merian glared at him from under lowered brows, but gave in without another word.

"Well then," said Bran, declaring himself satisfied with the preparations. "Be about your work, everyone. If all goes well, Tuck and I will return with a war band large enough to conquer the Ffreinc and force their surrender." As the others shuffled out, Bran called Tuck to him. "I will see to the horses, and you take care of the provisions-enough for four days, I make it."

The friar spent the rest of the day assembling the necessary provisions for their journey. While he was scraping together the few items they would need for making camp, Scarlet came to him. "I am worried about Odo," he said, sitting down on a nearby stump. "That scrape this morning has pitched the poor fella into the stew."

"Oh? I am sorry to hear it," replied Tuck. "Has he said anything?"

"Not so much," said Will. "He wouldn't. But if there was ever a creature ill fashioned for the wildwood, that's Odo through and through."

Tuck paused, considering what Scarlet was telling him. "What do you think we should do?"

"Well, seeing as you are heading north, I was wondering if it might be best for everyone if you took Odo along."

"To Gwynedd?"

"Aye," said Scarlet, "but only as far as that monastery with the old bishop."

"Saint Tewdrig's."

"That's the one. I know he'd fare better there, and no doubt the way things are with the folk so hard-pressed everywhere hereabouts, he'd be a better help there than here, if you see what I mean."

"He's suffering, you say."

"I've seen whipped dogs more cheerful."

"Well then," said Tuck. "I'll speak to Bran and see what we can do." He paused, then asked, "Why did you bring this to me?"

"I deemed it a priest thing-like confession," replied Scarlet, rising. "And Odo would never be able to lift his head again if he thought Bran reckoned him a coward."

Tuck smiled. "You're a good friend,William Scatlocke. Consider it done, and Bran will think no ill of Brother Odo."

The travellers spent a last night in the forest, departing early enough to cross the Vale of Elfael before dawn.

Only Angharad was awake to see them off, which she did in her peculiar fashion. Raising her staff, she held it aloft, and blessed them with a prayer that put Tuck in mind of those he had heard as a child in the north country.

The three climbed into their saddles-Bran swinging up easily, Odo taking a bit more effort, and Tuck with the aid of a stump for a mounting block-and with a final farewell, quickly disappeared into the gloaming. By the time the sun was showing above the horizon, the riders had passed the Ffreinc-held Saint Martin's and were well on their way. Now, as the sun sailed high over head, they eked their way over bare rocks along the edge of the rill and, a little while later, passed beyond the borders of Elfael and into the neighbouring cantref of Builth.

It was well past midday when they came within sight of the monastery, and in a little while stood in the yard of Saint Tewdrig's introducing the young Ffreinc priest to Bishop Asaph, who professed himself overjoyed to receive an extra pair of hands. "As you see," he told them, "we are run off our feet day and night caring for the souls who come to us. We will put him to work straightaway, never fear." He fixed Bran with a look of deepest concern. "What is this I am hearing about you declaring war on Abbot Hugo?"

"It is true," Bran allowed, and explained how the English king had reneged on his promise to restore Bran's throne, appointing the abbot and sheriff as his regents instead. "We are on our way north to rally the tribes."

The ageing bishop shook his head sadly. "Is there no other way?"

"If there was," Bran conceded, "we are beyond recalling it now." He went on to tell how the Black Abbot had rebuffed his offer of peace. "That was Tuck's idea."

"We had to try," offered the friar. "For Jesus' sake we had to try."

"Indeed," sighed the bishop.

They stayed with the monks that night, and bidding Odo farewell, they departed early the next morning. They rode easily, passing the morning in a companionable silence until they came to a shady spot under a large outcrop of stone, where Bran decided to stop to rest and water the horses, and have a bite to eat before moving on once more. The going was slow, and the sun was disappearing beyond the hill line to the west when they at last began to search for a good place to make camp for the night-finding a secluded hollow beside a brook where an apple tree grew; the apples were green still, and tart, but hard to resist, and there was good water for the horses. While Bran gathered wood for the fire, Tuck tethered the animals so they could graze in the long grass around the tree, and then set about preparing a meal.

"We should reach Arwysteli tomorrow," Bran said, biting into a small green apple. The two had finished a supper of pork belly and beans, and were stretched out beneath the boughs bending with fruit. "And Powys the day after."

"Oh?" Tuck queried. "We are not stopping?"

"Perhaps on the way back," Bran said. "I am that keen to get on to Bangor. I know no one in these cantrefs, and it might be easier to get men if on our return we are accompanied by a sizeable host already."

This sounded reasonable to the friar. "How long has it been since you've seen your mother's people?" he asked.

Bran gnawed on his sour apple for a moment, then said, "Quite a long time-a year or two after my mother died, it must have been. My father wanted to return some of her things to her kinfolk, so we went up and I met them then."

"You were-what? Eight, nine years old?" Tuck ventured.

"Something like that," he allowed. "But it will make no difference. Once they have heard what we intend, they will join us, never fear."

They spent a quiet night and moved on at dawn, passing through Builth without seeing another living soul, and pressing quickly on into Arwysteli and Powys, where they stopped for the night in a settlement called Llanfawydden. Tuck was happy to see that the hamlet had a fine wooden church and a stone monk's cell set in a grove of beeches, though the village consisted of nothing more than a ring of wattle-and-mud houses encircling a common grazing area. After a brief word from the local priest, the chief of the village took them in and fed them at his table, and gave them a bed for the night. The chieftain and his wife and three sons slept on the floor beside the hearth.