Emlyn pulled her arms free of the guard. “I can walk unassisted.” She followed, her chin raised high, with two guards in front of her and two at her back.

They guided her to the lower level where the garrison was located. In the very back where no light reached, was a chamber where soldiers were placed when they had committed a crime or needed punishment. No one in their family had ever been sent there. She would be the first.

Once inside, Emlyn turned to face the door and when they closed it, darkness prevailed. She couldn’t believe her mother sent her there. As angry as she was, she couldn’t fault her mother for she had disobeyed her and deserved her mother’s wrath.

Hours went by and Emlyn lost track of the amount of time she’d been in the tiny cell. It could’ve been an entire day, but felt more akin to three. She daren’t sit and her legs weakened from standing so long. Emlyn wouldn’t touch the walls or anything inside the chamber. Every so often, she heard the rustling of a mouse—at least, that’s what she hoped it was.

A noise came from outside the door and the handle jiggled and opened. Her mother finally came to her senses and was going to release her. Emlyn was appeased and would curve her tongue and not speak out. But it wasn’t her mother.

Her father slipped the key inside his tunic and stepped forward. “Emlyn, my sweet, are ye harmed?”

“Nay, Father, I’m well, but tired.”

“When I found out what your mother did … I came straight away to free ye. Come, we’ll get you out of here. How long have ye been in here?”

“I know not. Thank you, Father, for coming for me.”

He offered his arm and Emlyn set her hand on it. She was grateful for his aid for she wasn’t sure she could walk on her own. When she reached the outside, she saw that it was nearly nighttime and dusk had settled on the land.

“Come, we’ll sit there, by yonder tree.”

Emlyn fell to her knees when she reached the grassy spot.

Her father sat and leaned his back against the tree. “You’re to leave the day after tomorrow, lass. Tell me ye were able to find someone to aid you.”

“I did. I’m gladdened that I’ll be leaving, especially after what Mother did.”

“Do not blame her, daughter. She only has the family’s best interest at heart. She was reared in England and doesn’t have our winsome ways.”

Emlyn snorted a laugh. “I will never be what she wants me to be.”

“Nay, likely not. But we all can’t be what our parents want of us. Never fear, she has two other daughters to rule and mold as she wants. You’re akin to me, my sweet. Aye, none could tell me what to do when I was a lad.”

“I’m sorry, Father, to be so troublesome.”

He grinned and shook his head. “Do not apologize for being true to yourself, lass. So tell me, who is the Scot who will aid ye?”

“His name is James. He is a guardsman to their leader.”

“Ah, good, good. He has a position of prestige. I will meet him and ensure he is capable of protecting you.”

“I am certain, Father, that he is.”

He pressed his fingers against his beard, tugging it downward and nodded. “I left ye a reward, a satchel full of weapons in Aled’s stall. It is my gift to you for your journey.”

“I thank you, Father.” Emlyn was thrilled to hear of his gift and she couldn’t wait to see what weapons he’d given her.

“There are two maids awaiting you in your chamber. Go and bathe, and make yourself bonny. And on the morrow in the eve, we’re to have a farewell feast. It was your mother’s suggestion. Be sure to appease her. Wear something becoming a princess. Many will attend, including the Scots who are to escort you to Marshall.” Her father winked and gave her a small grin.

Emlyn rose. She curtseyed to him and waited for his dismissal.

“Go daughter, and get rest. I’m pleased you have done as I asked.”

Emlyn hurried away and went directly the bedchamber that she shared with her sisters. There, the two maids had a warm bath ready. She undressed and sunk into the soothing water. By the time they finished scrubbing and dressing her, Emlyn was sleepy, and barely able to keep her eyes open.

She lay upon the bedding and listened to the maids cleaning the chamber. Emlyn decided to surprise her mother on the morrow. She would appear at her farewell feast attired in garb to rival a queen’s.

*****

A chill set the air and brought forth a mist from the sea. Autumn would soon be upon them. James walked the trail to the waterfall and listened to the serenity of the morning. He’d slept through the night before. Finally, he’d gotten a full night’s sleep.

His last thoughts before he closed his eyes were of Emlyn and their time together in the cavern. As he walked along, he couldn’t hold back his grin, for his thoughts when he’d awakened were of the same.

His breath fogged the air, and he got cold, and he pulled his tartan around his upper body. The journey home would be dangerous. Not only did they need to thwart Marshall’s army, but it appeared they’d have to contend with a colder climate.

James thought of home and how the men of their clan would take to hunting to ensure their stores were filled with meat for the long winter. Harvest would be in full-swing and tasks to get everything done before the change of season weighed heavily upon them. He knew Grey must also be thinking of such matters. Hopefully, soon everyone could return and put the king’s errand behind them.

He reached the waterfall and hoped to see Emlyn there, but she was nowhere in sight. After washing his face, and using Sean’s small blade on his whiskers, he hurried back to camp. Training would soon begin and he wanted to see Emlyn again. James hoped she’d at least be there.

When he reached camp, his comrades had just finished eating their morning fare. He was handed a bowl of pottage. It smelled delicious and of cinnamon, and he wondered where Sean had come of the spice. James set about to eat it quickly for they would soon be heading to the fields and wouldn’t break until near supper.

“Sean, you’re getting better at cooking,” he said, and handed the empty bowl back to him.

“Aye, he’ll be wearing a kitchen maid’s cap and be tending to the pots when he returns home.” Colm received a hard shove from Sean for his jest.

James laughed. “Aye, he might want to hide from his sweet wife for I heard wives change during pregnancy. Is that not right, Kenneth?” He meant to tease both Sean and Colm for this spring they’d each have a bairn.

Colm groaned. “Cosh, James! Don’t remind us. Who knows what Frances and Kelsi will be akin to when we return.”

Kenneth bellowed a laugh. “They’ll be a wee bit fatter, that’s for certain.”

To which Sean threw a hunk of bread at both he and James.

“James,” Grey called.

He looked up to see his laird standing nearby. “Aye?”

“Come. You’ve been called to the keep by Llywelyn. He wishes to speak to you.”

“Me? What does he want?” James grimaced. Her father couldn’t have found out about his encounter with Emlyn. He didn’t like not knowing what he wanted.

“I don’t know, but ye need to hurry. I’ll go with you.”

The sun finally showed itself and the morning mist was chased away. They reached the keep a few minutes later, and were bid entry by the keep’s maid. She led them into the great hall. He and Grey stood awaiting the Iorwerth chieftain.

Llywelyn was being fetched, the maid told them, and disappeared through a door. James shifted from one foot to the other as uneasiness came over him. Would he be sentenced to death for fornicating with the chieftain’s daughter? James felt the room close in on him and a doom shadowed his thoughts. He heard the Iorwerth’s footsteps and saw him as he appeared at the entrance with his wife.

The warrior chieftain was dressed for war as his mail glinted from the sunlight that streamed into the chamber through the narrow window casement.