Free Shadow of Stone (The Pendragon Chronicles) by Ruth Nestvold

godspeed."
    "Thank you."
    Illtud's church was outside the village to the southwest. As they left the small collection of buildings behind, Yseult could now see that the Dumnonian banner no longer flew above the gate of the mainland fortress.
    "How can Dyn Tagell have fallen after a mere handful of days?" Ricca muttered under his breath.
    "I don't know," Yseult said. "But we will find out."
    "Perhaps Gurles wanted it to be taken," Rufinus suggested.
    It was what they had all been thinking, but still it seemed impossible. Gurles had been Yseult's steward in these parts for almost a decade, and even though he was a distant cousin of Marcus Cunomorus, he had never given her any reason to doubt his loyalty. A hereditary sub-king of Dumnonia, he had his own small seat twenty miles south of Dyn Tagell in Dimilioc. She and her son were his overlords, but he had always served her willingly.
    Or so she had thought.
    Had Gurles begun to recall the ambitions he'd had as a young man, now that his once dark hair glinted silver in the sun and he needed to apply compresses to ease the pains in his joints after a day of fighting practice? He'd been betrothed to Ygerna, eldest daughter of Erbin of Dumnonia — before she had been raped by Uthyr and Gurles had repudiated her. But Ygerna's bastard Arthur had become the most powerful man in Britain, despite his birth. Did all the power that had passed him by give Gurles no sleep at night? And if he were so dissatisfied, why had Yseult not noticed?
    Illtud's church was on a slight incline. Yseult shaded her eyes against the sun as she glanced up at the stone walls enclosing the garden. Christian gravestones dotted the fields around the grounds, and she led them there first, her "sons" following her.
    As they neared the graveyard, she saw the distant gates of the mainland fortress open and a band of warriors emerge. Yseult knelt in front of a gravestone, her head bent. Her men followed suit, their hands clasped in front of them.
    "Take my elbows," she whispered. "As if I need support. We must seek succor in the church."
    Ricca and Rufinus each took one of her elbows and Yseult hid her face in her hands, sobbing for the loss of the daughter she never had. "Where are the soldiers?" she asked between her fingers.
    "They are heading in the direction of the village," Valerius said behind them.
    "Good," Yseult murmured. "Now, let us find Illtud, quickly."
    When they entered the grounds and were behind the high stone walls, she threw off the illusion with the hood of her cloak, feeling a headache coming on. Magic always took its toll, even for such little things as a walk unrecognized through a village.
    Illtud emerged from the church and stopped for a moment, staring. When he recovered from his surprise, he hurried forward to take her hands in his. "Lady Yseult! You should not be here." He nodded in the direction of Dyn Tagell.
    She squeezed his hands and released them. "We know. Why do you think we are dressed like this?"
    "It is a good masquerade. Nonetheless, it is not safe."
    "But they will hardly expect me here, will they?" Yseult said with a smile.
    Illtud sighed. "No."
    "The walls around your grounds are high, and the enemy leaves you in peace. I think I will practice skills that have long gone rusty while we wait for reinforcements."
    "What skills?"
    "Arms, Father Illtud, arms. I know you were once a warrior too — would you care to join me?"
    * * * *
    There was something extremely liberating about donning breeches and taking up a sword again.
    Even if it was wooden and she no longer knew how to use it.
    She didn't need her power of knowing to see that Ricca was making every effort to be patient with her clumsy footwork and weak sword arm. She was much more out of shape than she'd imagined. Unfortunately, there was no magic for this, at least not that she knew.
    Yseult wiped the sweat out of her eyes with her forearm and felt the tip of Ricca's wooden sword against her rib cage. She was dead —