Free Cry of Sorrow by Holly Taylor Page A

to make. Smoothly, Rhoram began. “Within a few weeks, it will be time to start this year’s Plentyn Prawf and test the children. Cian, what says the Master Bard about that?”
    “He does not warn against it,” Cian replied. “But he reminds us that he still does not know what happened last week in the meeting at Eiodel. He urges caution.”
    “And what do you say to that?”
    Cian grinned. “I say, I love to travel.”
    “Very well. Achren, when he leaves, go with him. I want the best to guard him.”
    Achren nodded. She had expected this assignment, Gwen knew.
    “Anything else, Cian?” Rhoram asked.
    “I have received word from the Master Bard there is a tribute caravan coming our way,” the Bard said gleefully. “Goods from Gwarthaf bound for Erfin’s use in Arberth.”
    “I have sighted the caravan, my King,” Cadell said. “It will be within our provenance by tomorrow.”
    “How many warriors guarding it?” Rhoram asked.
    “Forty.”
    “Forty?” Rhoram raised his eyebrows. “How insulting. Only forty.”
    “Erfin always did underestimate you, Rhoram,” Achren replied. “It amazes me how slow he is to learn.”
    “Oh, come. Do you think Erfin is giving orders to the Coranians? It is the other way around,” Dafydd Penfro remarked.
    “A trap, then,” Achren offered, her black eyes gleaming. “For General Penda surely does know better.”
    “And just as surely he knows how dangerous this area is,” Hywel of Penfro put in.
    “And hopes to pinpoint our location,” Dafydd said smoothly.
    “So, what do we do?” Cadell asked. “Do we let it go by?”
    “We do,” Rhoram said firmly.
    “What? How can you—” Lluched began, always loathe to miss a fight.
    “And attack it three days after it has gone by,” Rhoram continued. Gwen caught Rhoram’s glance at Aidan. Aidan gave a brief nod.
Now what
, Gwen wondered,
was that all about?
    “I will be happy to follow them,” Achren said, smiling. “Who goes with me?”
    “You do not go, Achren,” Rhoram said. Achren opened her mouth to argue, but Rhoram held up his hand and she subsided.
    “The band will be led by Geriant,” Rhoram continued.
    “Thank you, da,” Geriant replied, grinning. “Anything special?”
    “No, just the usual. Kill them all and bring back what you can comfortably carry.”
    “Yes, da.”
    “Hywel, you and Dafydd are to go, also.”
    Now that was a surprise. Not the choice of Hywel, but to send Dafydd. Dafydd was a counselor, not a warrior. But Dafydd himself seemed to understand and simply nodded.
    “That’s it?” Achren said in surprise. “What about Aidan?”
    “Aidan stays. Oh, and one more thing,” Rhoram went on, turning to Gwen. “You may go, also.”
    “Oh, da, can I really?”
    “Why not? Three days’ journey from here is about as far as you walk every day anyway.”
    Gwen flushed. “Da—” she began, then stopped, for she noticed that her father’s eyes were kind. “Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    “When do we leave?” Geriant asked.
    “Now,” Rhoram answered crisply. “I want you far ahead of them. Two days from today, stop and wait for them. Once they pass this area unchallenged, they will think themselves safe.” Rhoram rose, signaling that the meeting was over. “Oh, and one other thing. I want you to leave without mentioning your destination or purpose. Hywel, just tell your warriors to be ready to leave within the hour. That’s all anyone needs to know.”
    “Why, da?” Gwen asked curiously.
    “For reasons of my own,” he replied shortly. “Geriant and Gwen, Dafydd will be happy to help you gather your weapons.”
    Dafydd nodded, his eyes serene. Gwen opened her mouth, then shut it quickly, seeing the look in her father’s eyes. Any questions she asked would not be welcomed. They filed out of the stone chamber in a puzzled silence. Gwen, who trailed last, was the only one who heard the words that passed between Rhoram and Aidan.
    “Tonight,” Rhoram said