Destiny's Path by Frewin Jones

sideways at Branwen. “Roast hare, eh?” he said. “I can almost taste the juice on my fingers already.”
    Branwen turned away from him and stared into the fire without speaking.
    â€œWhy do you dislike her so much?” Rhodri asked.
    â€œI don’t want to talk about her,” Branwen replied. “We need to discuss what we are to do next. Besides go north and tear the ‘Saxon hawks’ out of the sky.”
    â€œIf the lord of Gwylan Canu is given warning of the Saxon attack, he will be able to close the gates and defend his citadel,” said Rhodri. “Perhaps that is all Govannon wants you to do—warn them of the coming danger.”
    â€œI have already learned how little weight people give to my words,” said Branwen. “When I tried to tell Prince Llew about the attack that was coming to Garth Milain, he ignored me.” Bitterness laced her voice. She looked at Rhodri as a new thought came to her. “And what if Prince Llew’s soldiers have alreadybeen to Gwylan Canu to warn them about us? ” she continued. “What if we are thrown into chains the moment we show ourselves? What if their only response is to send us to Doeth Palas to be hanged?”
    Rhodri raised an eyebrow. “Do you think it is your ultimate destiny to swing alongside me on Prince Llew’s gallows pole?” he asked. “I doubt that very much! But you may be right—the straight road to Gwylan Canu may not be our best hope.” He shot her a sudden glance. “What was the last thing that Iwan ap Madoc said to you before you gagged him?”
    â€œI don’t remember exactly—he asked me to leave his sword. He said it had been passed down from his great-grandfather, or something of that sort. What does that matter?”
    â€œI heard something else that he said,” Rhodri murmured. “He said—‘You’re going to have an interesting life, Branwen! I wish I could have shared it.’ Do you remember that?”
    â€œYes. I remember.”
    â€œI think perhaps you have still one friend in Doeth Palas.”
    Branwen gave a harsh laugh. “Iwan ap Madoc was never my friend. If I had a friend at all, it was Gavan ap Huw—but he will think, as everyone else does, that I betrayed him when I set you free.” She narrowed her eyes as she thought of the grizzled old warrior who had briefly been her confederate and her tutor in the ways of warfare. It pained her to know that hemust hate her now, but there was nothing to be done about it.
    â€œI disagree. I think we should not go to Gwylan Canu,” Rhodri replied. “I think we should make our way with all the stealth we can across Bras Mynydd and tell our tale to Iwan ap Madoc.”
    â€œGo to Doeth Palas?” exclaimed Branwen. “Are you moonstruck?”
    â€œIf Iwan can be convinced that you’re telling the truth, he will surely go to Prince Llew and have him send reinforcements to Gwylan Canu,” said Rhodri. “A fast rider could be sent ahead to warn the lord of the citadel to bolt his gates and hold fast till the prince’s warriors arrive. Ironfist will be thwarted—where he hoped to fall upon an unprepared foe, he will find all in readiness for his coming. The citadel will be saved, and you will have fulfilled the task Govannon has given you.”
    Branwen looked at him. “And if the saints watched over us and we made our way to Doeth Palas without being hunted down, what then?” she asked. “Our faces are known there, Rhodri. We would not get past the gates without being recognized. We’ll need disguises.”
    â€œYes! Good thinking,” said Rhodri. “A dress and wimple for you, so that your hunting leathers are hidden and you can cover your head. And a cloak and cowl for me—and perhaps mud rubbed into my hair to darken it. That way we could slip in among theeveryday market crowd and go