Rhiannon by Vicki Grove Page B

rocks. Patient Jim grunted and leaned hard on his stick so’s not to topple as Granna took a penny from her waist pouch and bit it till it was bent and killed, then threw it over her shoulder into the river. This was a thing she did each time she came to town, for protection from all the evil that had overtaken the place since she was a young girl, back when the Saxons were still in charge and all was well with the world.
    Daisy ran to crouch near the small splash of Granna’s coin, and Rhia bent beside her. They looked at the glitter of it sinking as Rhia whispered, “In olden times coins were given to rivers for luck, Daisy. Granna still believes a bent coin will guard us from mischance on this journey to town, and who’s to say her nay?”
    Then something caught Rhia’s eye there in the fast water, just a few paces beyond the coin. A clamshell it seemed, though it glittered much as the penny glittered. She waded close, pulled up her sleeve, and fished the little shell from its rocky bed, and the shiny thing bit her, just as if it were a living clam! She sucked her pricked thumb as she turned it over to explore it close. A tiny pin was fastened to the back of it. How very strange . . .
    Then suddenly, the ground was ashake and a group of horsemen was right upon them, bursting from the woods as though summoned from hell itself. Rhia just had time to take in a swirl of bright color and flash as she slipped the clam pin into her waist pouch and sloshed frantically to the bank to grab up Daisy.
    The careless riders had kicked up a fine cloud of rocky soil, and by the time Rhiannon had batted the air enough to find herself and Daisy a clear breath, the pack of them had galloped on across the river and disappeared into the copse of ancient willow trees at the south edge of the manor’s private grounds.
    â€œNot everyone that can afford to ride deserves to ride,” Rhia complained loudly. She put Daisy to her feet, ripped out the grapevine pieces holding her own painstakingly constructed horse’s tail in place, then bent and threw her loosed hair forward to shake out the dust. “The nerve, ” she stated when she’d straightened back up.
    â€œThat was King Henry and his knights, riding from King Henry’s castle!” Daisy sang.
    Jim and Granna laughed, and Rhia recovered her good spirits and smiled along.
    â€œWe won’t see King Henry way out here,” Rhiannon told the child, combing the dust from Daisy’s hair with her fingers. “King Henry owns dozens and dozens of castles throughout all of England and much of Francia. The earl holds some three or four castles for King Henry, and Lord Claredemont takes care of this one for the earl. The earl himself comes sometimes to stay awhile in it and hunt in the forest hereabouts, but not often, as his wife dislikes the country life. Anyhow, that’s what I’ve heard.”
    â€œI expect those riders be the earl’s son and his cronies, the young squires from the manor house,” Jim guessed.
    â€œWell, our Rhiannon should know all about that, ” Granna said with a jolly har-har.
    Rhia rolled her eyes. “Could be them,” she said lightly, her chin in the air. “I’ve only seen them the once, when they arrived, and I’m sure I was much too busy just now saving Daisy from a deadly trampling to especially notice.”
    â€œThey’ve cleared land back of the manor house as a tilt field for them to practice their swordplay and horsemanship,” Jim eagerly told them. “Looks like they’ve also cleared more land in this vicinity since I had my accident and was took to your bluff. Cleared for an archery range, I’ll wager. I’d heard talk they’d be needing that as well.”
    More land was being cleared from the bottom edge of Clodaghcombe Forest’s bright green skirt. In fact, Rhia could hear the ring of axes this minute as Lord Claredemont’s