"The king has spoken," concluded Cardinal Bayeux. "The continued prosecution of this dispute has no merit. The matter is herewith concluded."
King William, impervious to our lord's anger, nodded once and turned away. He and his soldiers and confidants walked back to the house and went inside. The cardinal rolled up the parchment and turned to follow his monarch.
With that, our Day of Judgement was over.
As the door closed on the backs of the royal party, a wide double door opened at the far end of the yard, and soldiers who had been awaiting this moment streamed out to encircle us. Weapons ready, they formed a wall, shoulder-to-shoulder around the perimeter of the yard.
"We must leave here at once," said Angharad. "Bran!"
He was no longer listening. "We will not be denied!" he shouted, starting forth. "This is not the end. Do you hear?"
She pulled Bran's sleeve, restraining him. Shaking off her grasp, he started after the swiftly retreating cardinal. "Iwan! Siarles!" she snapped, "See to your lord!"
The two leapt forward and took hold of Bran, one on either side. "Come away, my lord," said Iwan. "Don't make things worse. They only want half a reason to attack us."
"You do well to drag him away," called Marshal Guy, laughing. "Drag the beaten dog away!"
Gysburne was the only one to find amusement in this disaster, mind-he and a few of the less astute-looking soldiers with him. The rest appeared suitably grim, realising that this was no good news for them, either. Count Falkes looked like a man who has had his bones removed, and it was all he could do to remain in the saddle. His pale countenance was more ghastly still, and his lips trembled, no doubt in contemplation of his ruin.
Iwan and Siarles were able to haul Bran back. Merian rushed to his side to help calm him. Meanwhile, Tuck and Angharad, fearful of what the Ffreinc might do next, moved quickly to turn everyone and march them from the yard before bloodshed could turn the disaster into a catastrophe.
Obeying cooler heads, we turned and started slowly away under the narrowed eyes and naked weapons of the king's soldiers. As we passed Count de Braose's company, I looked up and saw Odo, his round, owlish face stricken. On impulse, I raised my hand and beckoned him to join us. "Come, monk," I told him. "If you would quit the devil and stand on the side of the angels, you are welcome here."
To my surprise, he lifted the reins and moved out from the Ffreinc ranks. Some of those around him tried to prevent him, but he pulled away from their grasp; the abbot, sneering down his long nose, told them to let the craven Judas go. "Let him leave if he will," said Marshal Gysburne, snatching the bridle strap and halting Odo's mount, "but he goes without the horse."
So my dear dull scribe took his life in his hands, plucked up his small courage, and slid down from the saddle to take his place among the Grellon.
As we marched from the yard, the soldiers tightened the circle and drew in behind us to make certain we would depart without causing any trouble. Abbot Hugo called out one last threat. "Do not think to return to Elfael," he said, his voice ringing loud in the yard. "We have marked you, and we will kill you on sight should you or any of your rabble ever set foot in Elfael again."
When Jago translated the abbot's challenge for us, I saw Bran stiffen. Turning to address the abbot, he said in Latin, "Enjoy this day, vile priest-it is the last peace you will know. From this day hence, it is war."
Abbot Hugo shouted something in reply, and the Ffreinc soldiers made as if they might mount an attack. They drew swords and lowered their shields, preparing to charge. But Bran snatched up a bow, and quick as a blink, planted an arrow between the abbot's legs, pinning the hem of his robe to the hard ground. "The next arrow finds your black heart, Abbot," Bran called. "Tell the soldiers to put up their weapons." Hugo heeded the warning and wisely called for the king's men to hold and let us depart. Slowly, Bran lowered the bow, turned, and led his people from the king's stronghold.
Heads held high, we strode out through the gate and into our blood-tinged fate.
EPILOGUE
Are you sure he's the one?" asked Marshal Guy of Gysburne.
"Absolutely certain," muttered Abbot Hugo. "There is no doubt. Bran ap Brychan was heir to the throne of Elfael. That idiot de Braose killed his father, and he himself was thought to be dead-but of course that was bungled along with everything else the baron and his milksop nephew touched."
"To think we had him in our grasp and didn't recognise him," Gysburne observed. "Curious."
Hugo took a deep breath and fixed his marshal with a steely gaze. "King Raven, the so-called Phantom, and Bran are one and the same. I'd stake my life on it."
"We should have taken him when we had the chance," remarked Gysburne, still puzzling over the deception played upon them.
"A mistake," spat Hugo, "we will not repeat."
Count Falkes de Braose had been escorted from the yard by knights of the king, to be taken to Lundein and there put on a ship to Normandie. Abbot Hugo and his marshal were left to consider the unexpected rise in their fortunes, and the threats to their rule. Their first thoughts turned to Bran and his followers. They quickly decided that so long as Bran and his men remained at large, they would never enjoy complete control over the people and lands that King William had entrusted to their stewardship.
"I can take him now," said Guy.
"Not here," said Hugo. "Not in sight of the king and his court. That will not do. No, let the upstart and his rabble get down the road a pace, and follow them. They won't get far on foot. Wait until they make camp for the night, and then kill them all."
"There are women and children, and at least one priest," Guy pointed out. "What shall we do with them?"
"Spare no one," the abbot replied.
"But, my lord," objected Guy. He was a knight of the realm, and did not fancy himself a murderer. "We cannot slaughter them like cattle."
"Bran ap Brychan said it himself," countered the abbot. "It is war. His words, not mine, Gysburne. If it is war he wants, this is where it begins."
Before Marshal Guy could argue further, the abbot called his knights and men-at-arms-and as many of the count's men who wished to join his army-to gather in a corner of the yard. "On your knees, men," he said. "Bow your heads."With a clatter of armour, the knights under Guy Gysburne's command drew their swords and knelt in a circle around the abbot. Folding their hands over the hilts of their unsheathed swords, they bowed their heads. Raising his right hand, Hugo made the sign of the cross over the kneeling soldiers.
"Lord of Hosts," he prayed, "I send these men out to do battle in your name. Shield them with your hand, and protect them from the arrows of the enemy. Let their toil be accounted righteousness for your name's sake. Amen."
The soldiers raised their heads as the abbot said, "For any and all acts committed in carrying out the charge laid upon you this day, you are hereby absolved in heaven and on earth. Obey the will of your commander, who serves me even as I serve God Almighty. For the sake of God's anointed, King William, the holy church, and the Lord Jesus Christ himself, show no mercy to those who rebel against their rule, and do so with the full knowledge that all of your deeds will be accounted to your favour on the earth and in heaven, and that you bear no stain of guilt or sin for the shedding of blood this day."
With that, Guy and his men mounted their horses and silently rode from the yard in pursuit of King Raven and his flock.