Medieval Master Swordsmen(445)

“We were at Cilgarren Castle,” Derica said. “How far are we from there?”

Mair thought. “A goodly distance, I think. ‘Tis to the north of us.”

“But you know of it?”

“I have lived here all my life. I know the land.”

Derica rubbed her head again and stood up, gripping the offending tree for support. But she didn’t care that her head was swimming; all that mattered is that she could remember who she was again. It was deliriously liberating. She was seized with the desire to return to Cilgarren right away.

“I must go home,” she said. “Will you help me?”

Mair nodded. “Of course we will.”

“Can we make it in a day, if we start now? ‘Tis still early.”

Mair shrugged. “‘Is it also possible yer husband is already looking for ye? Perhaps if we stay here, he will come to us.”

Tears came to Derica’s eyes, remembering her last conversation with Fergus. The good memories as well as the bad rejoined her. She wondered what had happened during her absence. “He is fighting the wars between Richard and John. I suspect he’ll not come looking for me any time soon.”

Mair understood. She didn’t like the thought of wandering the dangerous countryside with her children, but she could not refuse her. “Very well,” she said softly. “We will take you home.”

Derica sensed the moment between them, the sacrifice Mair was willing to make for a woman she hardly knew. “I cannot tell you what you have meant to me, you and your children. You have taken me in and cared for me, and I will not forget your kindness. My family has much wealth and I swear I shall reward you for your trouble.”

Mair’s pale complexion flushed. “We have all we need. I did not help ye for the fortune to be gained by it.”

“I know you didn’t. But you shall be rewarded all the same. You have risked much.”

There was nothing more to say. Rubbing her head again, Derica let go of the tree and took Sian’s hand. Her heart was lighter than it had been since she came to this place. Together, the four of them made their way back through the trees, towards the road. The day was warming as the sun struggled through the clouds. Sian saw a rabbit with big white ears and ran off in pursuit. He wanted to play with it, but Aneirin wanted the fur for a coat. Derica and Mair reached the road, watching the children chase the rabbit through the bushes. A low rumble in the distance caught their attention.

“Rain is coming,” Mair glanced up at the semi-cloudy sky.

Derica looked up, too. But the rumble didn’t stop; it continued and seemed to grow louder. Her gaze moved to the road leading west.

“I do not think it is rain,” she said. “Listen. It sounds more like horses. Many horses.”

Mair’s relaxed expression tensed. “An army?”

Derica was quiet a moment, thinking. “Where does this road lead?”

“To Pembroke.”

There was a large castle in Pembroke. “Get the children,” Derica said with quiet urgency.

They sprinted into the bramble. Derica came across Aneirin and grasped the little girl by the wrist, but the child didn’t understand. She thought it was a game and pulled away from Derica, laughing. Derica chased her through a cluster of trees, panicked when she saw that the girl was heading back up towards the road. She called her name, trying to stop her, but the child dashed onward. By the time she hit the road, Derica was right behind her and finally grabbed her around the waist.

“Got you!” she breathed.

She noticed the dust first. Whirling around with the child still in her arms, her eyes fell on a large group of armed men several feet away. They were clad in expensive armor and rode massive chargers, animals built for the brutality of war. Having been around knights her entire life, she knew this particular group of men could be nothing other than seasoned warriors.

The group carried several Welsh crossbowmen with them, men renowned for their deadly accuracy. It was a war party. She prayed that Mair and Sian would stay to the bushes as she herself faced the horde, having no other choice. To run would be to surely invite them to follow, and that could result in the capture of all of them.

The group had come to a halt. Derica pushed Aneirin behind her, protectively, facing the men with courage. One knight flipped up his visor, studying her carefully.

“I have traveled this road many a time and have never seen a fairy, though I have heard tale of them,” he said. When Derica didn’t reply, he continued in a less friendly tone. “Your name, woman.”

Derica knew her family name held much weight, on both sides of the realm. If these knights supported the Prince, then it would save her. If not, it may very well work against her. But it was her name, for better or worse.