Free Sword of Light by KATHERINE ROBERTS

earlier, so she must have been dreaming after all. Either that, or it had fled when the Saxons swarmed over the hillside. The only good thing was that they hadn’t caught Alba.
    Chief Cynric turned out to be a huge man with yellow braids. His battle-scarred body was draped in furs. A heavy torque of gold finished by two huge rubies clasped his thick neck. He lounged in a chair with carvings of dragons on its arms, drinking from a horn and scowling at them. Rhianna decided the chair must havebeen stolen from one of her father’s halls, because it looked too good for a barbarian tent.
    “And what am I supposed to do with these young ragamuffins?” Cynric said to the bloodbeard captain, who had washed the blue spirals off his face but still stank. “I ask your people to find out where Arthur’s men are hiding, and you bring me three half-grown children! I’ve got enough slaves.”
    “I thought you’d like to see them before I set them to work, my lord,” said their captor in an oily tone. “The knight will be useful, won’t he?”
    “Only if he talks,” Cynric pointed out. “Which he seems reluctant to do at the moment. And you say the others escaped? How many of them? The last thing we want is a troop of Arthur’s knights charging in here looking for their friend.”
    “Two or three maybe,” said the Saxon who had led the chase. “It was too foggy to see. They’re just thieves and cowards, my lord, probably acting alone.”
    “Probably!” Cynric slammed his big hands down on the arms of his throne. “Maybe two or three? Too foggy to see? This whole campaign so far has been a string of probablies! Arthur’s body was
probably
stolen away by that druid of his, but no one seems to know where. Several people have told me they saw Prince Mordred fall in the battle as well, yet no one seems to know where he is, either! Meanwhile, it seems these stubborn Britons are still not willing to open their gates and let me in. Do you want to know what I think? I think that snake Mordred has grown tired of his allies now we’ve helped him defeat Arthur, and isholed up someplace waiting for us all to go home so he can keep the fabled treasure of Camelot for himself.”
    “I don’t think so, my lord,” said their captor, frowning as the drunken Saxons laughed at him. He lifted Rhianna’s frizzy braid. “Look, the maid’s quite pretty under all that mud! She’ll fetch a good price in the slave markets if you don’t want her for yourself. And the dark boy is a bard with extra fingers, which some people value…” He eyed Cynric’s scowl and added, “The knight will talk, I promise you. My men will make sure of it.”
    “If they don’t kill him first,” Cynric said with another glower. “I’ve heard about your methods, Bloodbeard.” He put his head on one side and frowned at Rhianna. “I don’t much care for the girl – she looks like she wants to kill me.”
    Rhianna could keep silent no longer. She lifted her chin. “I’ll have a good try, Saxon thief, unless you take this collar off me and let my friends go!”
    Cynric blinked at her in surprise, then threw back his head and laughed. “D’you hear that? Arthur and all his knights could not defeat me in battle, yet this freckle-faced maid dares call me a thief in my own camp! And what am I supposed to have stolen, girl?”
    “Your tent is pitched outside King Arthur’s home,” Rhianna pointed out in a voice that carried easily over the laughter. “This is
his
land, not yours! But you’re right about Camelot’s treasure. Mordred wants Excalibur to give him power over men. Ask him – he’s been sent to look for it!” She pointed at their bloodbeard captor.
    Silence fell in the tent as the men all looked at their chief to see what he would do. Meanwhile, their captor swung his fist at her head. She ducked and he overbalanced, making the men laugh again. Catching his balance, he grabbed a handful of Rhianna’s hair and forced her to her