“Of course, Father.” Emlyn pulled off her helmet and tucked it beneath her arm. Her wavy hair hung in damp ringlets. She’d gotten overheated from the workout as well as from the news her father imparted.

He stopped and set a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I deem ye weren’t pleased with the betrothal. Are you upset at all by this news?”

Emlyn frowned, not realizing how unaffected she appeared. “A warrior does not show emotion.” That was the expected answer, and she wouldn’t disappoint him. She’d given him one of the cardinal rules of being a warrior. There were five in all and she’d remembered them by heart at the age of four summers.

Her father shook his head. “Aye, she does when the man she was supposed to love was killed. Warriors do hold emotion, lass, deep within them. There are times when such display is warranted.”

“I’m sorry, Father. I am saddened by your news, even if I wasn’t as pleased with the betrothal as Bevan was. He was a good man and if I had to marry, he would have suited. I am sorry he died.”

“He was honorable and worthy of your hand, which is the only reason I gave my consent. I thought he’d be capable of handling your … ways. Alas it was not meant to be.” Her father touched her hair before turning and making off for the keep.

Emlyn stood by the wall for a few minutes, watching the late day activity. Several soldiers walked by on their way to the garrison. A few maids held baskets, filled to overflowing with launder. None of them looked her way.

She wished with all her heart she could be despaired by the news, but she wasn’t. Relief overwhelmed her, for she was a warrior and warriors did not love. Nor did they care about such matters as a betrothed, having bairns, and tending to a man’s needs. There was far more excitement to life, especially when one had a talent with a sword.

There was no love in her heart for Bevan, even though he’d professed such to her. She considered she might come to love him in time. He was handsome and kind. A sorrow built in her stomach.

“There you are.”

She turned and saw her dearest friend approaching. Branwyn looked upset, and she realized her friend must have heard the news about her brother’s death.

“Good day, Bran. I was just speaking with my father and—”

“I’ve been looking for you all day. You were supposed to come and help me with my wedding entails. You promised and because you didn’t come, I had to contend with my mother and her ardent remarks. I vow I’ve a headache to rival all headaches. You know how excited she gets.”

Emlyn approached and wrapped her arms around her friend’s shoulders. “Forgive me. I’m sorry.”

“And well you should be. I realize you enjoy training, but you shouldn’t promise you’ll come if you won’t. This is the last time I’ll believe you.” Branwyn pulled away.

Emlyn watched her face for a sign of her grieving, but her friend gave none. She looked beautiful with her sable brown hair tied up in braids, and her deep brown eyes lent with a sparkle.

She doesn’t know.

“You’re angry.”

Branwyn set the back of her hand on her forehead and glared. “Aye, I am. You always make promises, but never keep them. I vow I don’t know why I am your friend. You would do well to befriend any of the soldiers, for you spend more time with them.”

“I was distracted and forgot. This day I got to fight Rhun and you know how much I’ve wanted to test my skill against him.”

Branwyn grinned. “And did you at least win?”

She nodded. Emlyn tensed for she did not want to be the one to speak of Bevan’s death. For it would wound her friend, and that was something she definitely didn’t want to do. Especially given she’d already broken a promise to her this day.

“I shall go home with ye and sup, and spend the night. You can tell me all about your wedding feast plans and we shall have a wonderful time.” But that wasn’t to be, because as soon as her friend reached home, the news would be given and their night would not be spent in merry leisure.

“That sounds like a fair idea. I hardly see you since you’ve been on the field more than in the keep. I suppose that makes your father pleased.”

“I believe he is. He praised me and I thought never to hear him do so.” She tried to hide the smile that came upon her, knowing the dismay her friend was about to encounter.

“And I suspect your mother full of wrath?”

“She’s always full of ire no matter what I do to please her.” But she didn’t want to speak of her parents. Emlyn’s mouth turned down at the thought of Bevan being gone.

When she’d been betrothed to him, Branwyn was delighted. It wasn’t every day that your best friend would wed your brother. And they’d made great plans to be near each other which was the reason her friend had agreed to be betrothed to Cranog. He lived near Bevan’s cottage and they were comrades. Much to Emlyn’s dismay, Branwyn had their entire lives planned out, down to what they’d name their children.

“You’re so brave to want to use the sword and go against men. I deem I wouldn’t ever have the courage to do so.”

Emlyn clasped her hand and decided to change the subject. She didn’t like discussing warrior pursuits with Branwyn, because she never understood her desire. “I hope your mother made something delicious for supper, for I’m hungry enough to eat an entire roe.”

“You probably could. Where do ye put it? Your body couldn’t hold that amount of food.” Branwyn laughed and walked beside her.

“Training helps keep me slender, Bran, and hungry, too.”

They reached the cottage and before they entered, she heard weeping coming from within. Voices rose in despair from Bran’s brother and father.

Emlyn stopped and tucked her arm with her friend’s. “You shouldn’t go in there. Come, come away with me to the keep.”

“Why? I want to find out why my mother is crying. Something is wrong. I’ve never heard such pitiful weeping from her.” Branwyn dislodged her arm and opened the door.

She could only follow and hope her friend’s heart wasn’t broken. Emlyn stood behind Branwyn and watched the news being given. Branwyn’s mother sat weeping, being comforted by her youngest son. Her father spoke the news bluntly, and Emlyn regretted not being the one to tell her friend the sorrowful news. She, at least, would’ve broken the news in a gentler manner.

“Nay! Nay, I won’t believe it.” Branwyn, without a glance to anyone, ran from the cottage.

Emlyn faced her friend’s parents and said, “I’m sorry for your loss.” She quickly followed Branwyn and left.

When she exited the cottage, her friend was nowhere in sight. Emlyn knew all of her hiding places, and went in search of her. She looked everywhere, until there was only one place left to search. As she approached the waterfall, she spotted Branwyn sitting in the grass by the bank of the lake. Without saying a word, she sat beside her and took her hand, clasping it in a grip that bespoke her sorrow.

“You knew, didn’t you?”

She nodded, but remained silent.

Her friend’s brows furrowed and her eyes darkened to almost black. “Why did you not speak of it? How could you let me go in there, knowing you knew what they would tell me?” Branwyn twisted her hand until she released her.

“I’m sorry, Bran. I didn’t want to cause your heartbreak.” Emlyn kept her eyes on the water’s gentle waves caused by the waterfall. The noise of the water hitting the surface usually soothed her, but not this day.

“My heartbreak? But you aren’t heartbroken at all, are you? You never wanted to marry my brother, and now your fondest wish came true. I vow I shan’t speak to you ever again.”

Emlyn felt wretched, because even though she’d wished with all her heart not to wed Bevan, she didn’t wish any ill upon him.

“You’ve nothing to speak of? No apologies for any of it?”

She fisted her hands in rejection of her friend’s hurtful words. “I have nothing to apologize for. I didn’t kill him. Nor did I wish for his death. You make it sound as if I was at fault. He died in battle, Bran, akin to many men.”