"Is something wrong, Lady Elena?" he asked in a whisper.
"No. I just thought we were far enough away to be safe."
"Safe from immediate detection, yes. But there were easily six soldiers sent by Richard. Combined with our two amiable traveling companions, they have enough to spread out over a goodly distance and track our progress. If it would not overburden you, I think it would be advisable to continue as fast as we can until the horses tire."
"Of course," Elena agreed.
He grinned his approval and spurred his horse to a faster pace. Elena followed suit and wondered to herself, Now why couldn't Gareth have spoken so gallantly when he was dragging me through the Welsh mountains? Unbidden, his words of the day before popped into her mind. "I loved you even when I hated you." Why on earth should he have ever hated her? With commendable self-deprecation, she allowed that perhaps she had been a trifle difficult, but that had been before she had, well, grown up. Elena paused in thought to hold onto the lip of the saddle as she urged her horse over an enormous fallen tree. Safely over, she returned to her musing.
Elena wondered what would have happened between she and Gareth had they not clashed so much those first weeks. If he truly had loved her then, perhaps he would have confessed it sooner and she might even now be safely ensconced in Eyri Keep.
Well, she decided, there was nothing to be gained from might-have-beens. It was better to look to the future and wonder what it held for Gareth and her. Would he seek her out after the confrontation between Richard and Henry? Would he live to seek her out? No, she would not think of that possibility. Of course he would live--she willed it so and sweeter disposition or no, she was still as determined to have her will. Very well. If he did live, of course he would come for her and she would accept him only after making him grovel for forgiveness for abandoning her. There was only so much a lady could take, after all.
***
They rode through the seemingly endless forest for hours, the only indication of time passing was Elena's rumbling stomach for the forest grew no lighter than it had been in the morning, so dense was the foliage. When she thought she should faint with hunger, Dafydd finally stopped by a small spring and allowed the horses to drink and rest.
"Shall we see what the good innkeeper has provided for us to eat?" he asked as he helped her down from her horse and fetched the bag the young stableboy had given them.
"It could be dried beef and I would eat it, " Elena replied as she sank to the soft ground by the cheery, burbling stream.
Dafydd untied the leather thong that held the bag closed and peeked inside. "Looks like we have bread and cheese." Reaching into the burlap sack, he pulled forth a huge loaf of dark bread and a hunk of cheese protected in its cloth rind.
"I apologize for the lack of table linens, and tables, for that matter," Dafydd said as he presented the loaf to Elena with a flourish.
Elena laughed wearily while she tore off a piece of bread. Taking a bite, she reveled in the softness of the fresh loaf. "After the last month, linens and tables are the exception rather than the rule!"
"Traveled a bit, have you?"
Elena was surprised. Given that he had mentioned Gareth this morning, she had assumed Dafydd was well aware of their adventures. "Did Gareth not get a chance to tell you all that we accomplished in such a short span of time?"
"Actually, I don't even know Sir Gareth. Well, I know of him, but I've never been introduced, and until he was thrown into the dungeon, I didn't know if he was a supporter of Henry Tudor or not. In fact, I'm still not sure if his job there at Nottingham wasn't the same as mine: to learn what we could of Richard's intentions."
"But I thought--"
"That since we were on the same side, we knew of each other's existence? No, that would have put both of us in danger if one were captured and tortured."
"Then you were there to spy on Richard?"
"In a nutshell, yes. But was that not your position?"
"I didn't even know Gareth was spying on the king. He told me he had changed his mind and decided to support the king after all. Even after I had saved his life and offered my help," she said with a frown.
Dafydd cleared his throat and shifted his weight from foot to foot. He paid particular attention to slicing a wedge of cheese and handing it to her before speaking. "I'm sure it was for your own safety. War and spying are not lady's pastimes."
"Perhaps not, but it seems I have been in the middle of it since the Woodvilles attacked Richard's entourage."
"It was the Woodvilles, then?"
"Yes, they wanted to help Elizabeth escape."
"I don't blame them. So Richard has put you in the middle by hounding you for that information?"
Elena laughed. "If only it were that simple." In between bites of bread and cheese, she gave him a brief version of her travels through Wales, carefully leaving out those parts that had nothing to do with the conflict between the Lancasters and the Yorks.
"Had I a cap, I would take it off to you, Lady Elena. You have done more for Tudor's cause in a few weeks than I have seen since I left Wales last year."
"I've done nothing to help or hinder him. I've merely been dragged from one assignation to another."
"But you don't mean to tell me you support Richard?" he asked incredulously.
"Two days ago, I did not really care who was king. And since I have left Richard's court, I guess I still don't care whether he rules or a Lancaster rules. How much does it really affect the land? A few taxes here, some scant improvements there. I am more relieved that I will not have to fawn over the king and live with the cattiness of the other ladies-in-waiting."
Dafydd shook his head. "I suppose you are right in some respects, but does it not matter to you that--" He stopped himself and stared at a leaf on the ground for a moment. "Do you really see no injustices in England that should be corrected?"
"None that I know of," Elena said unsurely.
"In Wales, there are English priests in our churches, in our cathedrals. English lords dispense justice--their form of justice, not ours--and an Englishman is always given preference over a Welshman in any dispute. We have seen more Englishmen in Wales since Richard became king than I or my father can remember."
Uncomfortable, Elena shrugged and concentrated on eating. Trying to change the subject, she asked what their route would be.
"If we continue along this basic direction," he answered, gesturing with his chin to the barely discernable path they had been following, "we will exit the forest a few miles north of your father's manor. We can then backtrack on the main road and we should be safe from Richard's soldiers. It is my hope that they spent the morning searching for us and then gave up and returned to Nottingham. I assume your father will have the means to take you further on to safety?"
Elena nodded absently, but her thoughts were of the innkeeper and his wife in Wales. Her stomach clenching around her meager meal, she hoarsely whispered, "Do you think they will harm the innkeeper and his grandson?"
Dafydd was silent for a few seconds. "I--I don't think so. I told the man to act as though we had left in the middle of the night. The worst that will probably happen is that they won't pay their bill for their lodging and will no doubt demand ale and a hot meal for free since they are on 'king's business'."
"Perhaps I should have my father send money to the innkeeper to pay for our rooms."
"I paid him well before I woke you. I fancy he thought we were star-crossed lovers trying to escape your untimely marriage to a more worthy suitor."
Elena thought of Gareth and Brackley and wished that situation was the greatest of her problems. "How long do you think it will take to reach my father's estate?"
"Not more than a day longer than it would had we traveled the road. Through this forest, we travel as the crow flies, while the road tends to wind back and forth, traveling through each village. I expect we will arrive late afternoon tomorrow."
"Oh how nice," Elena said. "More sleeping on the grou
nd."
Dafydd flushed. "I'm sorry, Lady Elena."
Elena was instantly sorry for her sarcasm. Was it truly better to be constantly worried about other people's feelings? A month ago, she would have browbeaten this poor man into finding her an inn--and a decent one at that. She sighed and said, "Oh no, you misunderstand. Beds, like supper tables, have become a novelty for me. I shall feel much more at home out here under the stars."
Dafydd gazed at her skeptically and then helped her to her feet. "Well I am very used to straw ticks and pillows. I shall be very much put out tonight!"
Elena laughed and allowed him to lift her onto her horse.
***
They passed the night under the branches of a giant oak tree. As Elena eased herself down onto her thin blanket, she decided that, used to it or not, she still preferred the comforts of a real bed complete with sheets, pillows, and blankets. The last time she had slept under the stars, she had Gareth to cushion the hardness of the ground. His chest had proved a most comforting pillow and his arms, though hard with muscle, were wonderfully satisfying to sleep in. She propped her head on her folded arm and squirmed about, trying unsuccessfully to find a position in which a twig or pine needle or stone did not poke into some part of her body. Through the last month of hard riding and strenuous exertions, her body had lost much of its soft roundness. Roundness that had, a month ago, provided some relief from the hard objects she was now lying on. Elena finally rolled onto her back and after some minor adjusting, found a fairly comfortable position in which she was neither poked nor jabbed. Her physical ailments temporarily abated, she allowed her mind to return to Gareth. She wondered where he was, if Richard's men were after him as well, and if he was thinking about her as much as she was of him. In the drowsy state before sleep, she had no energy for the anger of the day before when she had cursed the day she had lain eyes on him. Instead, she envisioned a few months into the future, when, the war between the roses settled and over, Gareth would ride to her father's manor. In her dream (was she dreaming now? it was hard to tell), his arm was in a sling and Isrid was coated with battle dust. But that endearing lock of hair was still in his grey eyes that were searching for her amongst the crowd of servants and family members who had gathered outside to welcome this brave warrior. Finally locating her, he swung off his horse and strode through the throng of onlookers (does he seem taller now? she wondered in some abstract part of her dream). Upon reaching her, he sank to his knees, and Elena decided he was going to beg her forgiveness for abandoning her and plead for her hand in marriage. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead of words of love, blood poured from his mouth. She screamed as Gareth pitched forward and she saw the feathered shaft of an arrow protruding from his back. She glanced up to see Cynan holding a bow. "Traitor!" he yelled. "She's a traitor to the Welsh and she serves Richard! Richard who--"
Elena awoke with a start, her eyes not seeing the predawn light of the horizon, but instead Cynan's angry face screaming at her. Unclenching her hands that were twisted in her skirts, she realized she was drenched in sweat. She wiped her brow with the cuff of her dress and took a shaky breath. She glanced over to Dafydd and saw him sleeping peacefully a few feet away. Willing herself to relax, she stretched out and forced her mind to act rationally. In the first place, Gareth and Cynan were close friends, raised together since they were babies. In the second place, she had never seen Cynan exhibit the least bit of temper, much less anger, so her mind must have conjured someone else's image and Cynan was just the first name she thought of. Was she a traitor to the Welsh? She had only recently begun to acknowledge the fact that Welsh blood ran in her veins, that her mother had been born and raised in Wales. Furthermore, she had only the day before learned the exact details of Richard's unjust treatment of the Welsh from Dafydd. Besides, what could she as a woman do? War was men's business. They were the one's who started them, let them be the one's who ended them. Elena's well-honed skill at rationalizing her way out of responsibility gave her cold comfort that morning. Though she was no longer shaken by her bad dream--and after what she'd been through lately, who could blame her from suffering nightmares?--she was unable to return to sleep and instead watched the horizon through a narrow break in the trees as the sun rose, bringing warmth and dispelling shadows.
Before long, Dafydd stirred and rose groggily to his feet. Not realizing she was awake, he stumbled past her into the trees, his eyes mere slits in his face. By the time he returned, Elena had folded her blanket and retrieved two slightly bruised apples from the bag the innkeeper had given them. She handed one to the still-befuddled Dafydd and he plopped down on the ground to eat it.
"I'm sorry," he said when he had devoured it. "I'm not very good at waking up in the mornings." Pushing himself to his feet, he began to saddle the horses. Elena collected his blanket and the food bag and stuffed them into one of the packs on his saddle. By the time they were ready to travel, the sun had taken the chill off the air and Elena's nightmare was but a scant memory in the back of her mind.
They rode at a brisk pace through the edges of the forest, stopping at midday to water the horses in a shallow pond and then continuing on. By late afternoon, Elena's stomach was loudly reminding her that a mere apple was not sufficient food for the pace they were forced to keep.
"Dafydd, we really must try to find something to eat. I am near faint with hunger. Surely we can venture to the road by now."
Dafydd turned in his saddle and gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Lady Elena. I'm afraid I've not proved a good escort in any respect have I? First I make you sleep on the ground without so much as a pallet, and now I starve you to death. Unfortunately, we would have not have had what little food we've eaten were it not for that good innkeeper. If you can make it a few more hours, we should be safe to leave the forest. There should be an inn or village where we might beg some food."
"Beg?" Elena asked, aghast. "Why beg?"
Dafydd looked even more sheepish. "I'm afraid I gave the last of my coin to the innkeeper for helping us escape."
Elena felt amongst her skirts and found her pouch that contained her few jewels and what small amount of coin she had elected to carry. "Find us food and I will take care of the bill," she said imperatively but with a small quirk of a smile.
Dafydd bowed awkwardly in the saddle, a crooked smile parting his lips. "As you command, so shall it be."
He spurred his horse to a faster pace and led them in a more westerly direction. Within the hour, they had emerged from the trees and made their way across rough fields until they located the road. This far north, the road was but a narrow path of dirt and rocks, but once on it, the horses did not have to pick their way through bramble and fallen logs and they were able to make much better time as they doubled back to the south and the small village just north of her parent's estate.
Chapter 33
They entered the small village of Swansonbury at dusk and Elena quickly led the way to the tiny inn which boasted only two rooms for let and three small tables in it's dining room. The smells wafting on the peaceful summer's eve air made Elena's mouth water and her stomach growl in eagerness for a good meal. She dismounted without help and as soon as she felt the circulation return to her legs, she strode to the wooden door and pushed it open. The room was narrow and long. The ceiling was low and the floor dirt, but the walls were whitewashed clean and the small tables were neatly arranged in the room. A sturdy wooden table was propped against one of the walls and upon it were several large pitchers of what Elena assumed to be ale.
Her reception by the innkeeper and his wife was polite if a bit awestruck. Elena ordered a huge meal and paid them handsomely for it. The innkeeper stammered at the amount in his calloused hand and insisted she must stay the night.
"It will be long dark by the time you arrive home. You are more than welcome to stay here as our honored guest and ride out in the morning."
Elena considered his offer. She was exhausted, more so now that she had a full stoma
ch and to simply lie down and sleep for hours and hours sounded like heaven. But something, some worry niggled at the back of her mind. It spurred her on to continuing home.
"I thank you for your hospitality, but I've been absent too long. I wish to return home as quickly as possible. Besides, It won't be but another hour on horseback."
"Of course, Lady, of course. Safe travels!" he called out as she and Dafydd quickly climbed atop their horses and headed down the single narrow road of the town.
***
Though it had been nearly two years since she had last traveled the road from Swansonbury to her father's large wooden manor, there was not much chance or their becoming lost. The road forked about two miles south of the village: the eastern fork leading back to Nottingham and the western fork leading directly to her home. They were also graced with a full moon, which rose early to spill its cool, crisp light and allowed them to proceed at a rapid pace down the pocked road.
Though she had long scoffed at superstitions of any type, Elena could not quell the nagging worry that something was wrong. She jumped when an owl hooted to her right, and turned quickly, half-expecting to see Richard's men bearing down upon them. After several minutes, Dafydd seemed to pick up on her skittishness for he asked her quietly, "Lady Elena, is something amiss?"
She studied his face in the pale light. She felt foolish, all right, but the Welsh were a superstitious lot, weren't they? After all, Gareth had told her of his premonitions. Perhaps Dafydd would understand. "I…I don't know. I just have this very odd feeling that something is amiss. I'm sure I'm just being silly, but..." she trailed off and shrugged her shoulders, trying to make it appear as if she weren't really worried.
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