Stuart, Elizabeth Read Online Free Page B

head-on than be ambushed in the dark hours of the
night when the Welsh preferred to strike.
    "Giles,"
he hissed.
    "Here,
Richard." The voice came from close behind his right shoulder.
    "Order
them to come out. Tell them we mean no harm if they're innocent villagers, but
that we take no chances. Tell them if they don't come out at once, we'll charge
in and slaughter all we find, then destroy the village."
    Giles
nodded his dark head and immediately began translating loudly in the sing-song
Welsh tongue.
    For
several long, heart-straining moments there was silence. Then, with a whir of
wings, a startled flock of sparrows broke from the brush along Richard's left
side. His men jerked nervously toward the sound, raising gleaming swords as if
to fend off a blow.
    Richard
smiled in grim satisfaction as a figure emerged from the thicket. A bent old
woman hobbled slowly toward him across the winter-cured grass. Was it a trick?
The Welsh were shrewd. He had learned long ago not to underestimate them.
    The
woman paused a half-dozen yards from his horse. "What do you want of
us?" she asked haltingly in Norman French.
    Richard
stared at her in surprise. These people never did what he expected.
"Nothing, save to know yon forest harbors no ambush," he replied in
the same cultured tongue. "Bring the rest of your villagers out. I give
you my word we mean you no harm."
    "Your word?"
    Richard
recognized the cold contempt in her tone. "I am Richard of Kent, knight of
your sovereign lord, Edward of England," he snapped impatiently. "I
tell you we mean no harm. I've coins here to buy food if you've aught to
spare."
    The
woman moved closer, gazing up at him with clear brown eyes devoid of fear.
"We know who you are. But Edward of England is none of ours. With Llywelyn
dead, we wait for another to lead us." She chuckled mirthlessly.
"You'd best beware the whelp of Aldwyn of Teifi. Another Llywelyn may yet
rise to claim the crown."
    Richard
held his temper on a thin rein. Even the women of this accursed land flung
their defiance in his teeth. Edward had been furious when he learned that the
noblewomen of Lord Aldwyn's family escaped after Builth. It was said the women
had made sanctuary in France. "Have a care, old woman. You speak treason
and your years may not save you!" he growled.
    With
a shrug of one stooped shoulder, she met his angry gaze with a bitter grin.
"I am an old woman, true enough, and what value my life and loyalty? You
and your kind will never make me claim an Englishman my king!"
    She
glanced over her shoulder toward the woods. "We've women and children
there and a few men too old to draw a bowstring. None such as you need
fear." She turned back to him and spat disgustedly. "But unless you
relish a handful of moldy grain and a bit of leek soup, we've no food for you.
We lost seven to hunger this winter past."
    Richard
nodded. Her gaunt frame and pasty skin gave the truth to her words. Truly she
was naught but a bag of bones. He frowned. He had seen more hungry women and
children in the last few months than he could wish in a lifetime. "Tell
your people to come out," he said gently, wishing he had more than a half
ration of salt pork and two small bags of tough beans for his own men.
    The
woman turned her back on him and bit out several terse words in Welsh. Slowly a
stream of villagers began filtering through the trees. Richard relaxed, when
all seemed to be as the woman had said. Most of the people looked scarce strong
enough to lift a bow, much less fit an arrow and let it fly.
    Suddenly
a shrill scream rang out, and the war cry of the dead Llywelyn quivered on the
evening air. Richard swung his mount toward the sound, raising his heavy shield
to fend off what he was sure must be an ambush. To his surprise no hoard of
fierce Welsh warriors swarmed from the trees. A single ragged woman lay
crumpled at the feet of one of his men.
    Gripping
his sword, Richard spurred toward the scene, his young squire, Simon, following
hastily at