Who is that girl?”
“What girl?” asked Bear, only half listening. He was muttering under his breath as he scraped out the porridge pot that hung over the fire.
“Meri—whatsit.”
Bear raised his eyebrows. “Merioneth. Just a girl. Gwyn, her father, is the clan smith. That makes him a big fellow around here. He’s a hard man, and as hot-tempered as the fire in his forge. Why the sudden interest in Meri?”
“Nothing,” said David quickly. “I just remember her nursing me back at the beginning. Bedwyr and I met her yesterday.”
“Aye, she has a hand for the healing and helps Branwyn when her mam can spare her. Which isn’t often.”
David drank in every word, while trying not to look interested. Somehow, he couldn’t get Meri out of his head.
“Here.” Bear thrust a wooden bowl of porridge under his nose. “I wish Emrys would get back. I hate the taste of my own cooking.”
“So do I,” said David, feelingly. The porridge was half-burnt. “In my time we eat this stuff with gobs of cream and brown sugar and raisins on it. Though even that wouldn’t help this garbage!”
Bear cuffed him lightly. “Ah, eat it, man, and stop whingeing! You’ll be glad enough of it under your belt when you face Cai on the practice ground.”
“That stinker! Don’t remind me.”
Bear grinned. “Nay, he’s my foster-brother, as well you know. I’ll not hear him ill-used. He’s just a wee bit boisterous, is our Cai.”
“He’s a menace,” grumbled David.
“You stand up well enough,” said Bear. “You’re no fighter, but you’ve got grit. Maybe that’s what drives Cai to bait you. You’re different, you see.”
“I’ve figured that out, thanks,” said David lightly. But his heart lifted at Bear’s praise. Coming from him, it meant something. “I guess . . . I mean, I should thank you,” he went on clumsily. “For making me practise all those weeks. Those guys would have done for me by now if you hadn’t.”
Bear shrugged. “The thought had crossed my mind,” he admitted. “But I must say I felt like thrashing you myself sometimes, cocky devil that you are.”
David grinned. “Don’t worry. It felt like thrashing, even if you didn’t mean it to be.”
Bear threw his head back and laughed. “And mayhap did you a bit of good, did it?” he asked.
“I guess,” said David.
Bear gestured with the hand that held the porridge bowl. “And what do you make of all this . . . now?” he asked, suddenly serious.
“It’s still weird to me. The food. The clothes. And being an outsider.” David picked up a stick to poke the fire. Then his eyes met Bear’s gaze. “But then I suppose I was that before, too.”
Bear held his glance for a minute, then nodded and returned to his porridge.
As soon as Bear left, David flung a cloak over his tunic and set off through the village. His feet seemed to take the direction of Meri’s hut without his willing them to. He didn’t find her, but saw a thin dark woman who must be her mother. Arianrod, who was grinding grain in a quern and managing to spill most of it, stuck her tongue out at him as he passed. David returned the compliment, then felt silly. What a pest that kid was!
The smithy stood not far away. David recognized the chinking sound he had heard so many times during his illness. The man wielding the hammer was tall and burly, with hair the colour of the bronze he was working. A knot of men stood gathered around him. They all looked up as David passed. He nodded, and a few of them nodded back grudgingly. The smith made some comment in a low voice and spat on the ground. The others laughed.
Embarrassed, David took the first turning he came to. It led toward the practice ground. He knew the others wouldn’t be there yet, so he allowed his feet to carry him that way. Then he heard voices. Girls’ voices. Maybe Meri . . . He stepped forward to the edge of the clearing.
And froze.
They were fighting. Pairs of girls in short tunics circled each other, now and again slashing quickly with their daggers. Each had a thick cloth pad tied round her left forearm, and used it to parry the thrusts. Lithe and vicious as wildcats, they circled each other, pouncing with their daggers when an opening appeared. Some of them were little older than Arianrod. Some were much older, Meri among them.
A tall, burly woman with grizzled hair moved around them, encouraging and coaching. “Rhiannon, keep your guard up. That’s better. Good, Olwen! Keep right after her. Elayne, you silly little cow, that dagger isn’t a darning needle. Don’t poke with it, stab with it!”
Two of the girls at the edge of the pack caught sight of David and stopped in their tracks. They glanced at each other and giggled. The giggles spread in ripples as other pairs stopped to see what was going on.
“Look, Gwyladys . . .” someone said, pointing.
The tall woman whirled about, scowling. Then her weathered face cracked into a huge grin. “Well, here’s a handsome young rooster for the hen coop. Come to join us, have you, bardling? Mayhap that’s not such a bad idea, seeing how badly Rufus’s rabble treat you. Or so I hear.”
The girls shrieked with laughter. David took one step backwards and plunged into the undergrowth.
Gwyladys’s voice pursued him. “Nay, come back, my pretty. No need to be so shy.”
These women, thought David, as he struggled through the bushes. These bloody awful women!
He blundered on until he reached the river. Throwing himself down on the bank, he splashed his burning face with water, groaning at the thought of the fool he’d made of himself. The news would be all over the village in half an hour.
Moments later, a twig snapped behind him, and he looked around. It was Meri. She said nothing, but with a sidelong glance sat down on the bank beside him and unwound the thongs that bound her leather sandals. She slid her feet into the water, then leaned forward and splashed her face. As she did so, he saw that her arms were criss-crossed by thin white lines. Old knife scars.
David shuddered. What kind of people were these, anyway?
She looked back at him out of those electric blue eyes. “You look . . . shocked,” she said.
“I suppose I am.”
She was puzzled. “Don’t the women fight where you come from?”
“Not that way.”
“How do they defend their homes in war, then?”
“They don’t fight. Well, some are in the army . . . Oh, forget it. I can’t explain,” he snapped.
She said nothing more. After a minute or two, he glanced over at her. She gave an odd little hiccup, and for a moment he thought he’d upset her. Then he realized she was trying not to laugh.
Her control cracked. “You should have seen your face back there,” she gasped, rolling on the bank. “Lord, it was funny. Better than the time Mam’s pig got loose and ran under Lord Rhodri’s horse, and him on it.”
Stung, David jumped up. She got up too, frowning.
“Why are you looking like a thundercloud, then? Don’t tell me you’re too high-and-mighty to take a jest!” she said indignantly.
David couldn’t think of what to say, so he turned his back on her and stalked off with as much dignity as he could muster.
She bounded after him and gave him a great shove that caught him off balance. He stumbled, then whirled around.
She was standing with her back to the river, arms akimbo. “You’re a poor sort of thing, aren’t you?” she jeered. “Do something so daft it would make a cat laugh, then blame us for thinking it’s funny. You make me mad, you do!” She shoved him again.
“You,” spluttered David, “you’re as bad as your brat of a sister!” He gave her a shove in return, and she lost her balance and tumbled backwards into the river.
She sat up waist-deep in the shallows and spat out a mouthful of water. After one stunned moment, David threw back his head and guffawed.
Meri sneezed. Then she smiled sweetly. “Give me a hand out of this, then,” she said, wiping her nose.
Grinning, he leaned over reached out a hand.
She grabbed it and yanked him in.
They both went under. Then they sat up and looked at each other, water cascading down their faces.
“Are we quits, then?” asked Meri, pushing her sopping hair out of her eyes.
“Better be. I’ve swallowed half the river,” grumbled David.
They helped each other up the bank. As they reached the top, Gwyladys popped out of the bushes. She looked them up and down and clicked her tongue. Then she sighed. “Aw, I might have known,” she said. “The pretty boys aren’t for me.” She lumbered off down the path.
“Wow,” breathed David, “she’s really something. She could eat me for breakfast!”
Meri tossed her head. “Don’t you forget for a moment she’s only half joking,” she said.
When David got back, Bear greeted him with a grin from ear to ear. “Well, I hear you got in a little extra training today. With the girls,” he teased. Then, as David stood dripping by the fire, “By the by—aren’t you a wee bit wet?”
“I fell in the river. Well, not exactly. I pushed Meri in. Then she pulled me in.”
Bear opened his mouth, then closed it. “You pushed Meri in the river?” he asked in a choked voice.
David shrugged. “Well, sort of. She was being a real pain. Ragging me, you know. Then she gave me a shove. So I shoved her back, and she landed in the river.”
Bear threw back his head and roared with laughter. When he could speak again, he gasped, “Well, you’ll have every lad in the village on your side now. That minx has been making our lives miserable since we were all in nappies. But none of us could do a thing about it. Her father being the big man he is with Lord Rhodri. The river! Oh, that’s grand, grand . . .” He went off into another peal of laughter.
Weird, thought David, rubbing himself dry with a prickly piece of sacking.
When he woke up the next morning, he blushed when he remembered what had happened. Then he lay there, grinning. She was something. She was gorgeous. She was outrageous. Then his smile faded. This thing was really getting hold of him. No one had ever made him feel this way, as if he didn’t belong to himself anymore.
He tuned Beauty and set to work on the new ballad Emrys had taught him. It was a love song, and suddenly he found himself understanding the words in a new way. And that scared him.
When he saw Meri with the other girls later in the day, his heart gave a great leap. She greeted him gaily, and the others giggled. He passed the smithy again on his way to the practice ground. The smith glanced up and scowled at him. In tones loud enough for David to hear, he said to the men around him, “Young pup! I won’t have him nosing after Meri, the dirty outlander.”
Flushing, David went on towards the practice ground. Some of the young warriors chaffed him about joining the girls and getting the worst of it. They seemed friendly enough, though Cai and his friends still saw to it that David got a drubbing and ate dirt.
That night, with Emrys still away, Lord Rhodri summoned David. With his heart in his mouth, David tramped across to the hall. The spears clashed aside for him, and he approached the high table.
“My lady wife grows weary of battle chants,” said the chieftain, leaning back in his chair and pulling his moustache. He nodded toward a slender brown-haired woman dressed in red who sat on his right hand.
Lady Eluned smiled down at David. “Can you oblige me with something sweeter to the ear, young man?” she asked pleasantly.
“Yes, my lady,” said David. How can anyone that nice be that stinker Cai’s mother? he wondered.
As he tuned Beauty, his eyes searched the hall for Meri. Then he found her. She was standing at the back with Bear and Cai and some of the others. Dressed in blue, her black braids bound with silver ribbons, she looked nothing like the tomboy of yesterday. But when she caught him staring, she gave him a bold wink.
He sang, and the thought of her twined itself into his music. First he gave them something funny. Then a thrilling tale of love. And when it was done, Lady Eluned clapped and Lord Rhodri nodded, well-pleased. Behind them, Cai slouched, scowling. Meri simply stood and stared at him wide-eyed, as though she had never seen him before.
David returned her gaze for a long moment, then, after bowing to Lord Rhodri and his lady, he plunged out of the hall into the welcome darkness. His heart was beating wildly. I can’t feel like this about her! he told himself furiously. I can’t. I mustn’t!