Prince of Time (Book Two in the After Cilmeri series)

by Sarah Woodbury

  Lili sat beside me, her hands composed in her lap, her head forward, her chin resting on her chest. I peered at her, thinking she was asleep, but then she straightened. “Has Ieuan said anything of me?” she asked. “I could tell he was embarrassed for you to meet me for the first time, dressed as I am.”

  “I think he was too worried to be embarrassed,” I said. “I wasn’t concerned in the slightest. In my country, women dress as men all the time.”

  “They do?” Lili asked. “And do they know the bow, as well?”

  “No,” I said. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed yourself? These clothes fit you well and I suspect you wear them often.”

  “Whenever I can.” Lili laughed. “Ieuan thinks to find me a husband. There’s a little chance of that as long as I look like this.” She grinned.

  “You don’t want to marry?” I asked, in truth, thinking more of myself than of Lili.

  “Marriage would be all right, if Ieuan could find me the right man. It’s babies I don’t want. Unfortunately, you can’t have one without the other.”

  I thought I understood. “Your mother . . .”

  Lili jerked her shoulders. “He has told you? My mother died with my little brother, Owain. They survived the birth, but not the fever that followed. That will not be me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, at a loss for what else to say.

  “And you?” Lili asked. “You don’t fear the childbed?”

  “I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” I admitted.

  “Well, it isn’t too late, though I wouldn’t be sorry if you married Ieuan,” Lili said. “In all the hours we’ve traveled today, you haven’t complained once. I wouldn’t have expected that of any woman, other than me, of course. You’re far better than any of the fools at court.”

  “For whom you have no patience,” I said, not as a question.

  Lili snorted. “Not that it’s their fault. My uncle taught us to read and write—and once he learned, Ieuan taught me to shoot and track through the woods. None of them have a brother such as I, the worse for them.”

  It was past midday—of what was becoming a very long day—before we reached Aberedw again. I woke from a nap as Daffy rolled the cart through the gatehouse and turned toward the stables. All my anxiety at the thought of how we were going to get inside the castle was for nothing, as I’d slept through the danger! The castle walls enclosed a space a hundred feet on either side, with a keep centered at the very top of the hill that the walls encompassed. The bailey housed the stables at the bottom of the hill, and when Daffy pulled his horse to a stop, we jumped down.

  “Now, you know what you have to do, right?” Lili asked me for at least the third time. I didn’t mind. Her love for Ieuan drove her, and she wasn’t alone in her fears.

  “Yes,” I said. “I enter the keep through the kitchen entrance and say that the steward sent me to help with the evening meal. I find where Ieuan and Dafydd are being kept and meet you at dusk outside the stables. If they are in danger, you and I will figure out how to release them.”

  “It will depend on where they are, you see,” Lili said. “They’ll be harder to free if they’re in the tower than if they’re stored somewhere more accessible.” Lili gripped my shoulders, standing on her toes to look into my eyes. “You need to be smart and careful. Their lives depend on what you can accomplish.”

  “I know,” I said. “I don’t know how I’m going to do this, but I will.”

  Lili released me, she went off to help Daffy unload the hay, looking very much like the stable boy she very much was not, and I turned towards the keep. A stairway led to the back side and I followed it, huffing and puffing, to the top. The keep was fifty feet square, maybe less; Lili had told me the great hall took up the whole of the second floor. The castellan, Cadoc, would have his apartments above that, with the kitchen and storage below.

  My heart was in my throat by the time I reached the kitchen door. I took a deep breath and remembered that throughout my childhood, I’d walked into more unfamiliar places than I could count, and the best policy was always to act if you knew what you were doing. People saw what they wanted to see, and rarely did anyone question someone behaving obviously and normally.

  The door to the kitchen was open and I peeked inside, squinting because it was much darker inside than out. And hotter. At least fifteen people bustled about, some even running.

  “Don’t just stand there!” a voice said. “Grab that pitcher and bring the water to the master’s room. He’s waiting to wash.”

  “Yes, sir, yes, sir,” I said, hurrying into the kitchen. I reached for the pitcher and had picked it up before the man really looked at me. My eyes still saw spots, so he was merely a dark bulk to me.

  “Wait,” he said. “Who are you?”

  “Bronwen, sir. The steward sent me to help.”

  “Oh, well,” he said. “Good. We need the help, what with three of the scullery maids retching their guts out every morning. They’ll be good for nothing now. Hustle along then.”

  Three! “Yes, sir,” I said, and hustled.

  A door opened onto a wide hallway on the far side of the kitchen. I trotted along it, past several closed doors before I reached the stairway leading up. A guard lounged at the bottom of the stair and he pinched my rear as I passed him. I would’ve kicked him but thought that ‘Bronwen the scullery maid’ probably wouldn’t have complained, so I refrained. I followed the stairs to the great hall, but kept going up another staircase to the third floor, to what I assumed were the castellan’s rooms.

  I knocked. Nobody answered. I was about to knock again when I heard a moan and heavy boots crossing the floor. The door opened inward and I stepped back. Two men shoved their way past me, with a third man hung between them, his eyes closed.

  David.

  I knew it was he, less from his face, which was so swollen and puffy it obscured his features, than from his clothing, now stripped to his cream-colored jersey and dark brown breeches. Reddish stains—blood—covered his front. His feet dragged behind him as the men maneuvered him past me and down the stairs.

  I stood frozen in the doorway and came to myself only when Cadoc called to me. “You wanted something?”

  “My lord. Your water, sir.” I hurried inside and poured the water into a basin set on a table near the door, my hands shaking so badly I was afraid I’d spill the water all over the floor. The room smelled moist and musty—of sweat and blood.

  Cadoc sat behind a table littered with papers. A bed dressed with heavy curtains was positioned against the far wall. I finished pouring the water and made to leave, but Cadoc spoke again. “You won’t stay, eh?”

  “I’m sorry, my lord,” I said curtsying. “We’re very rushed in the kitchen. I must get back.”

  “Later, then,” Cadoc said, and I turned away before he could see my shudder and the sweat dripping off my brow.

  I hurried down the stairs and reached the ground floor in time to see the two soldiers coming out of one of the doorways in the hallway near the kitchen. One of them locked the door, and then turned to the guard who sat at the bottom of the stair. He swung his arm and the key sailed across the space between them. The guard caught it, looking satisfied, and the other man waved, before turning to enter the kitchen.

  I nearly tripped as I passed the door, I was focusing so hard on not looking at it. Once back in the kitchen, the cook proceeded to run me off my feet for the two hours it took to serve and clear the evening meal. Every now and then I poked my nose out the kitchen door, hoping for some fresh air and to check the location of the sun, which by the end of my shift was obscured by clouds. While I watched, rain began to fall.

  Finally, as it began to get dark, the cook gave me permission to relieve myself in the outhouse near the stables, as the garderobe inside the castle wasn’t for servants. I hurried down the hill, soaked before I’d gone twenty feet and slipping on the muddy steps. Lili met me at the stable door. She had sticks of straw in her hair but a smile on her
face. Most of the soldiers and servants were still in the hall and we were alone.

  “I found them, Lili, I found them, but Dafydd is badly hurt. They beat him up.” I couldn’t contain my distress any longer and the words burst from me.

  Lili put her hands on my forearms. “It’s all right, Bronwen; it’s all right. Are they in the tower?”

  “No,” I shook my head. “Cadoc’s keeping them in a room off the kitchen, guarded, but accessible.”

  Lili squeezed my arms. “Good,” she said.

  “We have to save them, Lili,” I said. “I overheard in the kitchen that Prince Llywelyn is ill and not expected to live! We’ve got to get them out of here!”

  “I know, Bronwen. I heard that too, but the stories are too vague to be absolutely true. By tomorrow morning we’ll be at Buellt. We must face what is before us tonight, not what happens tomorrow.”

  “Okay, okay,” I said. “Tell me what to do.”

  Having transferred the pills earlier to her scrip, Lili handed me the plastic vial that had contained Ieuan’s antibiotics. “The hemlock juice,” she said. “This is all we have. It has a noxious smell, so you may have to coax the guard to drink it.”

  “Coax him?” I asked. Lili raised her eyebrows at me, and I realized what she meant. Oh, coax him.

  “Do not allow him to kiss you after he’s drunk it,” Lili warned. “I don’t know that his breath will harm you, but you can’t be sure that a drop of the liquid wouldn’t remain on his lips.”

  I was starting to get angry—not at Lili—not at Ieuan—not at David, though God knows I could come up with a good reason for it—but at myself. “Lili,” I said. “I’ve been in your country for fewer than two days, and in the last twenty-four hours I’ve been betrayed by a priest Ieuan thought was a friend, shot at by the English, pinched by a guard while masquerading as a scullery maid, propositioned by the castellan of Aberedw, and now you’re telling me I could have the pleasure of being poisoned as well, while playing temptress?”

  “Are you saying you won’t do it?” Lili asked.

  My anger ebbed. “Of course not. Ieuan and Dafydd are in danger and we can help them.”

  “I would go myself, but Cadoc will know me, even if I’m dressed as a boy.”

  “I understand,” I said. “I’ll do it.”

  I didn’t linger with Lili longer, as I didn’t know how quickly the cook would miss me. Braving the rain, I ran up the stairs, but came to a halt once I reached the kitchen, surprised to find it empty. I lowered myself to a stool by the fire, my clothing steaming. A minute later, the cook returned. “The master is looking for you,” he said. “If you don’t want to end up like those three girls you replaced, I suggest you make yourself scarce. I’ll tell him I couldn’t find you.”

  “Thank you,” I said. I leapt to my feet and was practically running by the time I reached the kitchen door. I hugged the side of the keep, trying to avoid the wind and rain, and ran into a lean-to a few steps from the kitchen door. I slipped inside. It smelled of herbs. I stubbed my toe on a box, and reaching out, blind in the dark, I felt for it and settled myself onto it.

  I don’t know how long I sat shivering, but eventually the pitter-patter of rain on the roof and the dripping inside my shelter slowed, and then stopped. Thinking it had to be late by now, I returned to the kitchen, hoping it would be empty but the cook was still here.

  “I was hoping you’d left for home, young lady,” he said. “The master has gone to bed—with someone else, mind you, so you’ve a reprieve for today, as long as you stay out of the way of the men in the hall. Where’s your father? You’ll not be safe as long as you stay here. Aberedw has been without a mistress for too long.”

  “I will be gone by morning,” I said.

  The cook nodded. “I’ve left some wine by the fire,” he said. “It’s not fine, but at least it’s warm. You may pour some for yourself. I’m going to sleep.”

  “Thank you for your help,” I said.

  “Don’t waste it,” he said, and left the kitchen.

  I looked after him, not knowing exactly what he meant by that last statement, but having every intention of doing as he suggested. I peered into the hallway. A single torch lit the space and a lone guard—a different one from earlier—slouched at the foot of the stairs. He was about my height, so not very tall, with light brown hair and a wispy mustache that must have annoyed him a great deal, since in Wales a male’s manliness was measured at least in part by the luxuriousness of his facial hair.

  I ducked back into the kitchen, grabbed a cup, and poured wine into it. I took in a deep breath and tipped in the hemlock liquid. Then I braced myself to do something that was so unlike me and sashayed into the hallway. The guard noted me immediately and straightened.

  “Some wine for you, sir?” I asked, swinging my hips in a parody of Marilyn Monroe, someone who the guard had fortunately never seen.

  “Baby,” the guard said. “Come sit with me.”

  I tried not to smirk. You’d think that seven hundred years before my time, they’d have come up with something different to call me! I reached him, handed him the wine, and found myself pulled onto his knee with his arm wrapped tightly around my waist. “Drink it while it’s warm,” I said. “It’s better that way.”

  “To you, baby.” The guard raised the glass and downed the liquid in one breath. Some of the wine seeped out from his lips and oozed down his cheek. It reminded me of what Lili had said, and I pulled away from him.

  “I’ll get you more,” I said, reaching for the cup.

  “But I just want more of you,” the guard said. He tried to grab me, but I skipped away.

  “Don’t go away,” I said. “I’ll be right back.” I reentered the kitchen. I didn’t know how long the poison would take to work, so I took my time refilling the cup, my hands shaking the whole time at what might be happening to him.

  “Girl!” the guard called. “I’m coming after you.”

  Just what I need.

  I’d hoped the guard was required to stay at his post, which didn’t include the kitchen. The guard appeared in the doorway.

  “Just a moment,” I said. “I’ve biscuits too.”

  “I’m not hungry for anything but you,” he said. “Get over here.”

  I took another minute to stoke the fire before turning back to the guard. His face was pale and his breathing shallower.

  “Girl,” he said. He grasped the doorframe with one hand, trying to hold himself up, and then slumped to the floor.

  I dropped the poker and ran to him. My own breath came in short gasps. I pushed aside his tunic and found the key to Ieuan’s prison on a string at his waist. With one jerk I pulled it free.

  I ran down the hall to their door and jammed the key in the lock. I didn’t know how long we had before a change in shift or someone came looking for the guard. I tried not to think of anyone but Ieuan and David. This can’t be real. This isn’t real. I can’t have killed someone.

  I tugged the door open. The light from the corridor illumined the two men on the floor: Ieuan, with David’s head cradled in his lap.

  “Hello, cariad,” Ieuan said. “I hoped to see you again.

  Chapter Twenty

  Ieuan

  Bronwen fell to her knees beside me.

  “It’s all right,” I said. “Neither of us are badly hurt.”

  “I saw the soldiers bring him out of Cadoc’s room hours ago,” she said, stroking a stray hair out of Dafydd’s face. “He looks worse than he did then. How can you say it’s all right?”

  “You’re here, aren’t you?” I asked. “And Lili too, if I guess right. He looks bad, but I don’t believe he bleeds inside, which is the worst fear.”

  “His face,” Bronwen said. “Your face.”

  “Ach, I’m fine. One of the soldiers caught me off guard with his fist.”

  “But Dafydd!”

  “I pushed the teeth they loosened back in. If he doesn’t eat anything hard for a few days, they’ll se
t. They broke his nose and I straightened that too. It might even add an air of mystery to his face that will attract the ladies. Just think about getting us out of here. You and Lili have a plan?”

  “Lili has a plan. Can you stand?”

  I nodded and shook Dafydd gently. He’d been awake on and off since they brought him back the second time. They’d given us a candle for the evening meal, but it had long since burned out. I’d not eaten what they’d brought, and neither, of course, had Dafydd, but the light had given me a chance to address his wounds. Bad as they looked, they could’ve been worse. They’d not broken any of his fingers, nor pulled his nails.

  “Wha—?” Dafydd asked, through puffy lips.

  “Up you go, my lord,” I said. I pulled him to his feet, wrapped my arm around his waist, and threw his left arm over my shoulder. Bronwen took his other side, though she was so much shorter I wasn’t sure that we weren’t more awkward that way. We had to angle ourselves to get through our prison door and then stumbled toward the kitchen.

  “Oh...the guard,” Bronwen said, stopping. A body blocked the doorway and Bronwen ducked away from us to grab the man’s feet and haul him further into the kitchen. Fortunately, he wasn’t a big man, or I would’ve had to help, and Dafydd would have fallen without me.

  “You killed him?” I asked her as we followed her into the kitchen, Dafydd taking two steps for every one of mine. I wanted to hold her but she was acting very purposeful and I didn’t want to distract her.

  “Bonwen,” Dafydd said. “He beb?”

  “Yes, he’s dead,” she said.

  “Bonwen,” Dafydd said again, “welcome to Wales.”

  “Was that a joke, my lord?” Bronwen asked. And then she made a face. It was the first time she’d called him that and I suspected she hadn’t meant to.

  “He’s not been quite right in the head since they brought him back from his last beating,” I said.

  Bronwen pulled open the kitchen door and we went through it, breathing the fresh air, but instantly soaked from the rain that poured down.