The Splintered Kingdom Read Free Page B

of the corpses, staring up at me, her wide eyes full of tears. Blood was on her cheek and on her dress, and for a moment I was confused, until I glanced down at the body and saw that it belonged to Lyfing. His eyes were closed and his tunic was soaked crimson where a great gash had been opened in his chest, no doubt by the red-haired one.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ I told Hild, though the words would mean nothing to her. I should have protected Lyfing, I thought, protected him from himself. I ought to have known he would try to save his woman first, since in his place I would have done the same.
    I had no time to dwell on it, though, for the fighting was not yet over. Beyond the campfire, the enemy’s horses, frightened by the noise, were rearing up, tugging at the ropes tethering them to the trees as they tried to free themselves. And the panic was spreading to the Welsh themselves, who had seen their leader and several of their comrades fall and had no wish to be next. Some tried to flee, and were pursued by Serlo along with most of the villagers; others fought on, preferring a heroic death, but they were no match for trained swordsmen such as Pons and Turold, and were soon cut down. That left just six, gathered in a ring with their backs to one another, their spears held before them. But we were many and they were few, and they must have seen the hopelessnessof their position, for after exchanging glances they all let their weapons fall to the ground.
    I made them form a line and get down on their knees while the villagers rushed to their womenfolk, loosening their bonds and hugging them close. Not an hour ago they must have given up hope of ever seeing them again, yet now they were reunited. I could barely imagine their relief.
    Pons nodded towards the ones who had yielded. ‘What should we do with them?’
    I cast my gaze over each of them in turn, and I saw the fear in their eyes. But they had sent several of my men to their deaths today, and I was not inclined to be merciful.
    ‘Leave them to me,’ I said, and then to the Welsh themselves: ‘Do any of you speak French?’
    At first no one answered, and I was about to repeat myself in the English tongue, when one spoke up. He was probably the youngest of all of them, of an age with Lyfing, I thought: a scrawny lad with lank hair. Possibly this was his first expedition.
    ‘I – I do,’ he said, his voice trembling.
    I marched across, my mail chinking with each step, and stood over him. ‘Whom do you serve?’
    He cast his gaze down. ‘Rhiwallon ap Cynfyn, lord.’
    ‘Rhiwallon?’ I asked. I’d heard that name before; he was foremost among the Welsh princes who held sway in these parts beyond the dyke. Indeed I’d heard it said that he called himself king, though there was precious little in these parts to be king of. Until now I’d never spoken to any who knew him directly. ‘He sent you?’
    The boy nodded cautiously, as if unsure whether this was the right answer to give or not.
    ‘You took something that didn’t belong to you,’ I said, slowly enough that he could understand me. ‘The death of your companions is the price that you pay.’
    He nodded but remained silent. For one so young he did well to keep his composure, when many men twice his age would have crumbled.
    ‘Go back to your master and tell him you failed. Tell him whathappened here, and mention to him the name of Tancred a Dinant. If you’re lucky he’ll spare your life, as I’ve done. Do you understand?’
    ‘Yes, lord.’ I saw a lump form in the boy’s throat as he swallowed, but he did not move.
    ‘Then go,’ I told him. ‘Or else I just might change my mind.’
    He scrambled to his feet, hesitating just for a moment while he glanced at his fellow countrymen. The blades of my men were pointed at their backs, their heads were bowed and they didn’t speak. He must have seen that he’d suffer the same fate as them if he waited any longer, and so he darted away across the clearing,