CHAPTER FOURTEEN #2
‘I am no soldier, but I trust the wisdom of those who are. If Brynach and Tudor say the ambush can work, I believe them. But what Mamgi says is also true. If we kill de Chapelle his own master will seek not only to replace him with another loyal Norman, he will not suffer me to live, nor any who have stood by my side. However, I can make you a promise. I know you all to be steadfast, and that is what we must be now. We will attack the war party before they reach the settlement. The children and the elderly will be safe. We will kill the Baron, and, more than this, I promise I will gain you your freedom and your homes in Cwmdu.’
Tudor shook his head. ‘The king will never allow it. How do you plan to persuade him to give you what you want when you have fought against one of his own?’
She raised her chin and looked at him levelly, her expression serious. All she said was, ‘You leave the king to me.’
And so it was decided. The rest of the day was spent preparing for the ambush.
Tudor and Brynach worked together to make a battle plan that would make the best use of the terrain and make the Baron’s own strengths play against him.
Brynach himself, though sorely weakened, not least by having to trek up the hill when he could barely walk, would take a position up on the rocks with the children who were able to use a bow.
These were Glyn, Ifan and one of the older girls, Sian.
Rhiannon would hold the same position. Her skill as an archer was second to none, and the advantage of the position would enable her to make the most of it.
Tudor had also pointed out that she was too important to the villagers to be lost. She must, therefore, take as safe a part in the attack as was possible.
Tudor would advance directly along the path so that he would come face to face with de Chapelle’s men as soon as the archers had launched their attack.
With him would be Dafydd, Dai and Euan. It was decided to leave some men at the croft in case any soldiers broke through.
Owain and Rufus were chosen for this last line of defence.
That night all hands were put to use making arrows and adding barricades to the barn.
Rhiannon wished there was time for her and Tudor to be alone together, but it was not possible.
If they were to stand their best chance of success, they must prepare everyone involved for what was to come.
The following morning Rhiannon saw to it that the children ate properly.
As she did so, Taran shadowed her every move, as if sensing there was danger close by.
She let the hound follow her as it wished, touched by its vigilance.
She needed to be sure that the children understood what was expected of them, so she had them gather in the small paddock behind the barn. She was aware Tudor was watching her.
‘You are not to descend to the path,’ she explained, yet again, fearing they would become caught up in the drama of the moment.
‘Stay on the rocks. Keep your heads low, for Brynach tells us some of the Baron’s men are archers.
They will struggle to shoot well when their targets are so high above them, but you must not give them something to aim at. ’
Glyn’s face was aglow with excitement already. ‘I can kill a boar; a Norman soldier will be easy!’ he declared, making the others laugh.
Tudor ruffled his hair. ‘As long as our enemies are fat you will do excellently well,’ he smiled. ‘Go now, fetch your water skins. No soldier should thirst before a battle.’
Once the children had gone he turned to Rhiannon and stepped close, reaching out to touch her cheek.
‘I wish with all my heart you would stay behind and keep to the settlement,’ he said.
‘And you know I cannot. I must go where I can be most useful. I am needed in the fight. After all,’ she added, putting her hand over his, ‘it is because of me de Chapelle comes.’
‘And it is because of you these villagers yet live.’ He leaned forward and kissed her.
Rhiannon fought the desire to fall into that kiss, to melt into his embrace. Instead she put her hands on his chest, both touching him and holding him a little away.
‘We must keep our minds and our hearts on what waits for us down the mountain,’ she said.
Before he could answer she stepped from his arms and touched the bough of a small blackthorn tree that grew in the shade of the barn wall.
She closed her eyes briefly and muttered an incantation that was now as familiar to her as breathing.
Instantly, a small green shoot appeared at the base of the tree.
And then another, and another. The verdant plant twisted its way up and around the trunk and then branches of the low tree, leaves sprouting as it did so.
Once it had all but covered half the tree, bright orange and cream blooms burst forth, cheerful and pretty, filling the morning air with their distinctive honeysuckle scent.
She turned to see Tudor smiling at the glamour, no longer startled by her magic, but loving it as part of her.
Part of the woman he adored. She picked a shoot of the plant and stepped back to Tudor, tucking it into the neck of his tabard, securing its stem into the chain mail he wore.
‘So that you may have something of the light on a dark day,’ she told him.
He leaned forwards and kissed her again and when she pulled away and took his hand his face was clouded with a mixture of desire and fear. It was not fear for himself, but for her, and they both knew it.
‘Come,’ she said, leading him towards the barn. ‘It is time.’
There were no farewells, Rhiannon saw to that.
Although most of the children were orphans, the whole community had become an family, and it was hard for the women to watch those they loved go off to fight.
If she could have done without them, she would have, but she knew success depended on a swift, surprise, decisive attack.
And that required all the arrows, all the spears, all the swords and axes, they could muster.
Even Brynach was determined to fight, despite his weakened state.
He convinced Tudor - who was in charge of the detail of the plan, being the most experienced fighting man among them - that he could be of use taking a position on the high rocks.
When Rhiannon had argued against him being included, Tudor had overruled her.
All who wanted to help must be allowed to do so.
A well shot arrow could mean the difference between victory and defeat.
And Rhiannon knew that defeat would, in all likelihood, mean the end for all the villagers.
The curious war party set off in silence, as if on a hunt, knowing that to lose the element of surprise would be to lose the battle.
Within the hour they were all in position.
The rocks did indeed provide the perfect vantage point.
From where Rhiannon lay on her stomach she had a clear view of the narrow sheep track below.
She could also see what the approaching soldiers would not be able to see Tudor, Dai, Euan and Dafydd waiting around the corner a little further along the path.
She had Brynach to her right, Taran behind her, and the children spread out to her left.
She saw how pale Brynach looked and worried anew that the fight would prove too much for him.
She felt rather than heard Glyn’s breath, slightly ragged, as he lay flat and ready, three freshly whittled spears by his side.
How had it come to this? That a child must risk his life in such a way?
She felt a fresh anger at de Chapelle well up inside her and clung to it, making it a hard point of strength to fight with.
They did not have long to wait.
All those waiting on the rock heard the faint jingle of bridles and became aware of the thud of hooves vibrating through the dry earth, echoes of those vibrations shuddering through the ancient rocks and throughout their own bodies.
Moments later they could see the riders winding their way up the hill along the path.
Rhiannon counted thirteen horsemen, strung out in a long line, one behind the other as the terrain dictated.
She was not surprised to see the Baron riding at the very front.
He was arrogant enough to dismiss the idea that they would meet resistance of any significance from the villagers.
Although wearing helmet, breastplate and mail as if for battle, he rode with one hand resting on his thigh, looking about him across the valley at the expansive vista, for all the world as if he were on a ride for pleasure, nothing more.
She shuddered as she remembered how he had embedded her own knife in her stomach.
She could still feel the shock of that injury.
She thought of how he had been responsible for the death of her parents, as well as so many good people.
If she failed now, how many more would he go on to kill?
Ifan fidgeted, looking to her for the signal.
She held her hand low, meaning he should wait.
Meanwhile, Brynach whistled, alerting Tudor to the imminent arrival of the soldiers.
Rhiannon could feel her heart thudding in her chest and knew the children would be experiencing the same mixture of fear and excitement.
She kept her hand low. They must wait until the riders were directly below them, on the very narrowest part of the path where it became little more than a ledge.
There would be no chance of turning the horses there.
Another long minute passed. And then, the moment had arrive.
‘Now!’ she whispered.