A Dishonorable Knight(52)

"Dare we start a fire?" Bryant asked. "Lady Elena surely needs to stay warm and it would make cooking a good deal easier."

Gareth stared hard at his friend who until a few weeks ago could not say "Good day" to a woman without turning beet red and falling over his feet. Now Bryant was efficiently tucking his own blanket around Elena, brushing the hair off her face before he turned for Gareth's answer.

"We'd better not risk it."

"But Gareth--"

"She'll be in a good deal more danger if the English soldiers come across us than she will eating cold food on a warm summer night."

Bryant started to argue when Elena spoke. "That woman this morning gave me a bag of food to eat for breakfast. Surely there's something in there that would not need a fire."

Bryant stared at Gareth indignantly. "Lady Elena is sick for three days and you did not even give her enough time to break her fast before we left?"

Gareth bristled at his tone. "If I recall, you were more than a little anxious to avoid being hung for a traitor yourself."

Bryant had the grace to look abashed. "It's just that Lady Elena--"

The lady in question interrupted their dispute. "Lady Elena would very much like to eat now and let you children finish your squabble somewhere else. Preferably on the edge of a tall cliff in a strong wind."

Cynan laughed as he brought over the heavy sack of food. "I like that. I'll have to remember it: a tall cliff in a strong wind." Laughing again, he turned the sack over and dumped its contents onto Elena's blanket. "I say, what was the name of that inn? We'll have to stop by there again. Look at this feast!"

Gareth and Bryant stopped glaring at each other long enough to look at the pile of food and quickly forgot their argument. Within minutes the four were happily stuffing themselves on cold chicken, cheese, and thick, crusty bread as the last bit of twilight faded from the sky.

As Elena stretched out on her blanket, Gareth surveyed their surroundings. "I'd have us keep watch tonight. I'd not like to be caught unawares."

"What Englishman could find his way through a Welsh forest during daylight, much less on a moonless night?" Cynan asked.

"The moon will be up later and an Englishman searching for a traitor will find his way through nearly anything."

"I'll take first watch," Bryant volunteered.

Gareth nodded. "Wake me in a few hours. I got plenty of sleep last night and should be fine to watch the rest of the night."

"Is that wise?" Bryant asked.

"I'll be fine."

Cynan laughed softly. "You'll hear no arguments from me, Gareth. Bedding down with Bryant in that tiny room was no treat, I can assure you. He kicks and snores. I haven't slept less since I was a newlywed!"

Gareth shook his head at his friend. "How Enid has stayed married to you will forever be a wonder to me," he said as he stretched out on the ground.

"It's only because he's gone so much that she's able to stand him," Bryant joked.

"Perhaps she's hoping he'll die young and leave her money to find herself a new man." Gareth proposed.

"Ha! You're both wrong." Effecting a poetic tone of voice, Cynan said, "Beneath this craggy face of mine is the heart of a lover and 'tis that alone which keeps her with me." He glanced at his friends a moment to see if they believed him and then added, "Well, that and my virile manhood."

Both Gareth and Bryant laughed, their early antagonism gone.

"You should have left it at 'the heart of a lover,'" gasped Bryant.

"'Twould have been more believable," added Gareth.

"A pox on the both of you!" Cynan said good-naturedly.





Chapter 13




"Gareth," Bryant whispered as he gently shook his friend awake.

"Is there trouble?" Gareth asked, instantly alert.

"Not a sound, but I'm falling asleep on my feet. I hope I haven't woken you too soon."

Gareth looked at the position of the stars. "You were on watch a lot longer than you think. Now get some sleep."

Gareth stood and stretched his arms over his head. Carefully placing his feet with each step, he walked around the perimeter of their small camp, patting the horses reassuringly when he reached them. Circling back to where Elena had been sleeping, he panicked at the sight of her empty blanket. When he realized that she was only heading into a small clump of bushes by the stream, he resisted the urge to call her back. Surely there was nothing to worry about. Cynan had been right. No English soldier would be able to track them through this forest. And yet, some instinctive feeling had made him put the watch on tonight when a few weeks before they had all slept soundly within a few miles of the English border.