Free Sword of Light by KATHERINE ROBERTS Page A

knees.
    “Stupid girl’s lying to save her skin. I’ll soon teach her some manners, don’t you worry, my lord,” he growled.
    Elphin began to hum under his breath.
    But Cynric jumped to his feet. “Enough,” he said, peering down at Rhianna with more interest. “Let the maid up and leave her with me. Save your energies for loosening that big knight’s tongue. I want to know where Arthur’s men are hiding before the sun rises, or you’ll be the one kneeling before me witha slave collar around your neck. Understood?”
    Her captor reluctantly let Rhianna go. She rubbed her head and glared at him as he hurried out of the tent. Cynric was still looking thoughtfully at her, and her stomach gave an uneasy flutter. Her and her big mouth… Why had she said that about Mordred wanting Excalibur for its magic? A village girl wouldn’t have known that. They had to get out of this tent before the Saxon chief started asking awkward questions.
    She glanced at Elphin, who nodded. Slowly, still humming under his breath, he walked across to the pile of their belongings and picked up his harp. Nobody stopped him. Cynric had leaned over the arm of his throne to talk in a low voice to one of his men. Rhianna felt for Cai’s hand and gave it a squeeze. Tears offear streaked the boy’s face. “It’ll be all right,” she whispered. “We’re going to get out of here, I promise. Block your ears when Elphin plays.”
    “Why’s he going to play for them?” Cai whispered. “They’re horrible.”
    But Cynric had finally noticed her friend. “Who said you could touch my things, boy?” he snapped, making his men look round.
    Elphin met his glare calmly. “This harp sings only to my touch. No one else can play it like I can, my lord,” he said in his soft voice. “Listen…” He stroked the strings with his slender fingers and sweet Avalonian music filled the tent.
    Cynric’s hands clenched on his throne. “I’ll be the judge of that…” Then a look of wonder came over his face, and he waved back the men who had started towards the boy. “No, lethim play. I’m in need of a new bard. Let’s see what magic he’s got in those extra fingers of his.”
    The men made space for Elphin on the end of a bench. He dared not look at them as he bent his head over his harp and concentrated on the magic. By the time he reached his third tune, Cynric’s eyelids were drooping. Rhianna smiled as the sweet scent of enchantment briefly overcame the stench of the Saxon camp. Having heard the chief speak, Elphin had created the perfect lullaby for him. She nudged Cai, who – after staring in wonder at Elphin’s swiftly dancing fingers – jammed his hands over his ears.
    Chief Cynric opened his mouth in a huge yawn. Yawns are catching at the best of times. His men set down their drinking horns and yawned as well. Even Rhianna, used to themagic, had to fight to stay awake. She elbowed Cai again. The boy jumped.
    “The trick is to hum different notes under your breath,” she whispered. “And don’t listen to the music. The spell isn’t directed at us, but the dream magic can’t be totally controlled.” Cai’s eyes closed again. “Never mind,” she said. “I’ll keep prodding you.”
    Elphin played on. When the last man had slumped over the benches, Rhianna unbuckled her collar and threw the hateful thing down on the rug. She and Cai ran to the pile of their belongings. Cai retrieved his dagger, their cloaks and the shield, while Rhianna dragged the Avalonian armour over her sack-dress and picked up Sir Bors’ sword. She removed Elphin’s collar for him while he kept playing and they hurried out of the tent.
    The magic had worked on the sentries outside as well, but judging by the noise and firelit silhouettes further across the camp, it didn’t reach very far. Rhianna hesitated at the flap. She looked back at the sleeping chieftain and his snoring warriors and smiled.
    “Wait a moment,” she whispered and tiptoed back to