Garran was quick to protest. "With all respect, Baron, my sister's fancies cannot be seriously entertained."

"Fancies!" snapped Merian.

"Please," replied Neufmarche. He appealed to Merian. "If you would kindly explain, I would like to hear your reasons."

Fearing some kind of trap was being laid for her, she replied, "Baron, you have the advantage here. Sending our war band to aid Bran against the king is treason, and if I were to argue such a course before one of the king's noblemen, it would be to my death-if such a thing were to be reported. In any event, aiding Elfael would go against your own interests, and I cannot think you, or anyone else, would willingly choose such a course."

"Exactly!" crowed Garran.

"Do not be so hasty," cautioned the baron. "As it happens, aiding Elfael may sit with my interests very nicely."

Garran stared at his father-in-law and patron, momentarily lost for words.

"Does this surprise you?" wondered the baron. "So long as we are speaking freely, the king is not always right, you know. William Rufus is not the man his father was. He makes mistakes. One of his early mistakes was to cross the Neufmarches-but that is not at issue here."

He began pacing before the young king's chair, to Merian's mind the very image of a man wrestling with an intractable problem. She watched him, hardly daring to hope that something good might come from what he was about to say.

"It comes to this-the king has ordered me to attend him and support him in this war against the rebel cantref. To aid the king is to undo all I have worked for in Wales for the last ten years or more. This I will not do-especially since my own grandchildren, when they arrive, will be Welsh. And yet"-he raised a finger-"to fail to respond to a royal summons is considered treason, and my life and lands are forfeit if I do not ride to the aid of the king."

The baron regarded Merian as he concluded. "The king has left me with a very difficult choice, but a clear one."

Garran did not see it, but Merian did.

"Which would be?" asked the young king.

"You know it, my lady," said Neufmarche, holding her in his gaze. "I suspect you've known it for some time."

Merian nodded. "You must march against the king."

"Surely not," complained Garran. "We cannot hope to achieve anything against William and all his men."

"Perhaps not," replied Bernard, "but that is my-that is our-only choice. If we hope to hold onto what we have, we must defeat the king-or at least hold him off until peace can be reached."

"A peace," volunteered Merian, "that will include justice for Elfael and pardon for all those who have fought for what is right."

"Amnistie royale, oui," replied the baron.

"But we risk everything," Garran pointed out.

"Our only hope of keeping what we have is to risk it all," agreed Neufmarche.

Garran fell silent, contemplating the enormous jolt his life and reign as king had just taken.

"And that, I suspect," continued the baron after a moment, "is why the Welsh noblemen have come."

"Cymry noblemen?" said Merian. "Here?"

"Mais, oui," Neufmarche assured her, "it is the reason I intruded just now. A number of Welsh noblemen have arrived, and are seeking audience with the king. I asked Luc to bid them wait a little because I wanted to speak with my son-in-law first." He smiled. "So, you see, c'est fortuit."

"Non," corrected Merian, "l'est la providence." She turned to her brother, freshening her appeal in Welsh. "Don't you see, Garran? Riding to the aid of Elfael is the only way. And with the baron's help we cannot fail."

The young king was far from convinced, but as client to the baron, he knew he must do whatever his overlord commanded. Still, he sought to put off his consent a little longer. "Perhaps," he suggested, "before going any further, we should see who has come, and hear what they have to say."

"They have been brought to the hall," said Baron Bernard, "and the serving maids instructed to give them refreshment." He held out his arm to Merian who, after a slight hesitation, took it. Garran went ahead of them, and the baron followed with Merian on his arm. As soon as Garran had left the room, the baron turned to her and whispered, "Lady Merian," he said, "hear me-we have not much time. I do most humbly beg your pardon, for I have not always had your best interest at heart. I pray your forgiveness, my lady, and vow that in the days ahead I will make every effort to find a way to make up for my past mistakes."

"You are forgiven, my lord baron," replied Merian nicely. "What is more, your determination to aid Bran and Elfael absolves a great many trespasses. I pray now that we are not too late."

"So pray we all," replied the baron.

They followed King Garran and his seneschal into the hall, where they found the benches full of strangers. Some of the king's men had already gathered to host the visitors, and all rose to their feet when the young king appeared.

"My lord king," said one of the visitors, stepping forward at once, "in the name of Our Saviour Jesus Christ, I give you good greeting. I am Lord Llewelyn of Aberffraw at your service." He gave a small bow of deference. "I present to you, my lord, King Gruffydd of Gwynedd"-a tall, lean man stepped forward-"and with him, my lord, King Dafydd ap Owain, lord of Snowdon"-a stern-faced battle chief stepped forward and, putting a hand to the hilt of his sword, gave a nod of his head-"and Iestyn ap Gwrgan, king of Gwent." The last of the great Welsh noblemen stepped forward and made his obeisance to the young king.

"Peace, and welcome to you all," said Garran, deeply impressed that such renowned men should have come to beg audience with him. "You honour me with your presence, my lords. Please, be seated again, and fill the cups. I am eager to hear what has brought you to Eiwas and to my hall."

"Lord Garran, if it please you," said the lanky nobleman called Gruffydd, "I speak for all of us when I say that we are grateful for your friendship and would like nothing more than to sit with you and drink your health and that of your people." His eyes shifted to the baron and he hesitated for a moment, then continued, "Unfortunately, we cannot partake of that estimable luxury. Time presses. Do not think me rude, therefore, if I decline your hospitality. We are passing through your lands on our way to Elfael."

"Elfael," remarked Garran with a glance at his sister, who was quietly translating for Baron Neufmarche. "It does seem to be a busy place of late."

"I will be brief," said Gruffydd. "We go to join forces with Bran ap Brychan to aid him in his fight to reclaim the throne of Elfael from the Ffreinc. As God is my witness, Lord Bran has done me a very great service which I can never hope to repay in full. But I go to do what I can. Moreover, it has been borne upon me with some considerable force"-here he glanced at Lord Llewelyn-"that if any of us would be free in our own land, we must all be free. To that end, I have persuaded these lords to join me." He put out a hand to his august companions and their commanders, who filled the benches at the board. He stepped before Garran to address him more directly. "I would persuade you, too, my lord." He regarded the young king steadily. "Join us, Rhi Garran. Help us right a great wrong and win justice for Elfael, and all who call Cymru home, against the Ffreinc and their overreaching king."

One of the lords stepped near to Gruffydd just then and whispered something in his ear. The king of Gwynedd squared himself, turned, and gazed boldly at the baron. "It seems I have spoken too freely," Gruffydd said. "I am informed that we have a Ffreinc baron among us. Had I known that he was here-"

"Truly," said Garran, "there is no harm done." He turned and beckoned the baron and his sister nearer. "My lords, I present Baron Neufmarche, my liege lord, and with him, my sister Lady Merian."