"My lord baron," said Gruffydd in stiff acknowledgement of Neufmarche. His hand went to the sword at his side and stayed there.

"As the baron is my overlord," Garran continued, "it is well that he has heard your intentions for himself."

"How so?" said Gruffydd suspiciously.

"For the fact that this was the very course he himself was urging only moments before we joined you here."

"Mes seigneurs et mes rois," said the baron. "C'est vrai." Merian translated for the Welsh kings, and explained that the baron had defied Red William's summons and had come to Eiwas instead, and that he and Garran had just been discussing the need to aid the rebels of Elfael in their struggle against the crown. After a quick consultation with Bernard, she concluded, "Baron Neufmarche wishes you to know that he stands willing to pledge his men to the aid of Elfael, and asks only to be taken at his word."

This provoked a hasty and heated discussion among the Welsh noblemen. Merian watched as the debate seemed to roll back and forth. It was swiftly over, and the Welsh lords turned to face the baron with their answer. Gruffydd said, "We have argued your offer, Lord Baron, and it is most unexpected, to be sure-but no less welcome for that. We will accept your pledge and thank you for it."

The baron expressed his gratitude to the Welsh kings for placing their trust in him, and then, through Merian, asked, "How soon can you be ready to march?"

"We are already on the march," replied Gruffydd. "Our men are on their way to Elfael even now."

"Then," replied the baron, when he had received Gruffydd's answer, "we must make haste to overtake them. Among my people, it is counted a very great shame for a commander to lead from the rear."

Rhoddi scrambled through the upper branches of the greenwood canopy, skittering along the hidden path of the sky way, to drop deftly into the little clearing where the Grellon had set up camp after abandoning Cel Craidd the day before. He searched among the sleeping bodies huddled in their cloaks on the ground for the one he sought, and hastened to kneel beside it. "Bran!" he said, leaning close. "Owain says to come at once."

Bran sat up. It was early still, the feeble grey light barely penetrating the heavy foliage of oak and elm round about. Reaching instinctively for his bow, he rose to his feet. "Trouble?"

Rhoddi shook his head. "There's something moving on the King's Road," he said quietly, "something you should see."

"Will," called Bran softly, rousing the forester, "begin waking the others and get everyone ready to move. I'll send word back." To Rhoddi, he said, "Lead the way."

The two climbed up the rope ladder onto the interconnected arrangement of limbs and boughs, planks and platforms that the Grellon maintained to move easily and quickly to and from the King's Road overlook. A swift and precarious dash brought them to the place where Owain was perched high up among the rocks on the bank of the cliff overlooking the road. "What is it?" asked Bran, climbing up beside him. "More troops?"

"Aye," replied Owain, "it is more troops, Sire. But there is something odd about these ones." He pointed down the road to where a column of knights was just coming into view. "A scouting party passed just a little while ago. I think this is the main body just coming now."

"Ffreinc, yes," said Bran. "I see them. What is so odd about them?"

"The scouts were Cymry," said Owain.

"Cymry!" said Bran. "Are you sure?"

"As sure as I can be. They were Welsh-born, I swear on Job's bones-and all of them carried longbows same as us."

"Not good," muttered Bran. "Our own countrymen going to join King William-not good at all." Before his companion could offer a reply, Bran grabbed his arm. "Look!" He pointed down to the second rank of mounted soldiers riding behind a double row of men-at-arms on foot. "I know that man-I know his standard… Saints in heaven!"

"Who is it?"

"Wait…" said Bran, straining forward. "Let them come a little closer…" He slapped the rock with his hand. "Yes!"

"Do you recognize someone, my lord?"

"It is Baron Neufmarche-or I am the archbishop of Canterbury," said Bran, still squinting down into the road, "and, God help us, that is Merian beside him."

"Are you sure?"

Bran squirmed around on the rock and called down to Rhoddi waiting below. "Go get Scarlet! Tell him to bring every man who can draw a bow. Tell him I want them to be ready to fight when they get here. We'll have to take them on the fly. Hurry, man! Go!"

In the road below, the soldiers came on, slowing as they neared the place where the road narrowed beneath the overhanging rocks. "Do you think they know we're here?" wondered Owain.

"Perhaps," replied Bran, withdrawing an arrow from the bundle and nocking it to the string. "Come closer, proud baron," he whispered, pressing the belly of the bow forward. "Just a little closer and you're mine."

But when the riders resumed their march, it was not Neufmarche who advanced-it was Merian, and another, riding beside her. The two advanced together.

"Who is that with her?" said Owain.

Bran stared hard at the mounted warrior beside Merian.

After a moment, Owain observed, "He doesn't look like a Ffreinc."

"He isn't," concluded Bran. "He is Cymry."

"Do you know him?"

Bran lowered the bow and eased the string. "That is Gruffydd, Lord of Gwynedd. Though what he is doing here in the company of Baron Neufmarche is a very mystery."

"Maybe Neufmarche has taken them captive," suggested Owain.

By way of reply, Bran drew and loosed an arrow into the road. It struck the dirt a few paces ahead of the two oncoming riders. Merian reined up. She lifted her face to the rock walls rising to either side of the road and then, placing a hand to her mouth, called, "Rhi Bran! Are you here?" She waited a moment, then said, "Bran if you are here, show yourself. We have come to talk to you."

Owain and Bran exchanged a puzzled glance. Bran moved to rise, but Owain put a hand on his arm. "Don't do it, my lord. It might be a trick."

"From anyone but Merian," replied Bran. "I will talk to them-keep an arrow on the string just in case."

Bran stood on the rock. He lofted the bow and called down to the riders in the road. "Here I am."

"Bran!" cried Merian. "Thank God-"

"Are you well, Merian? Have they hurt you?"

"I am well, Bran," she called, beaming up at him. "I have brought help." She twisted in the saddle and indicated the ordered ranks of troops behind her. "We have come to help you."

"And Neufmarche," said Bran. "What is he doing here?"

"He has joined us," said Gruffydd, speaking up. "Greetings, Rhi Bran."

"Greetings, Gruffydd. I never thought to see you again."

"For that I am full sorry," replied the lord of Gwynedd. "But I beg the chance to make it up to you. I have brought friends-and, yes, Baron Neufmarche is one of them."

"You will forgive me if I am not wholly persuaded," remarked Bran.

"Could you come down, do you think?" asked Gruffydd. "I grow hoarse and stiff-necked shouting up at you like this."

Slinging his bow across his chest, Bran prepared to meet them on the road. "Keep an eye on them," he said to Owain. "When Scarlet and the others get here, position the men on the rocks there and there"-he pointed along the rocky outcropping-"and tell them to be ready to let fly if things are not what they seem."

"God with you, my lord," said Owain, putting an arrow on the string. "We'll wait for your signal."

Bran lowered himself quickly down the rocks, dropping from ledge to ledge and lighting on the edge of the road a hundred paces or so from where Merian and Gruffydd were waiting. Behind them stood the ranks of the baron's knights and men-at-arms, and Bran was relieved to see that none of them had moved and seemed content merely to stand looking on. Unslinging his bow, he put an arrow on the string and advanced cautiously, keeping an eye on the troops for any sign of movement.