“Never,” Bartholomew said with conviction.
“Swear upon the pommel of your sword,” Anna advised, then spoke to Edgar. “It has a shard of the true cross within it.”
The eyes of the miller’s son opened wide, but he accepted her word. Bartholomew pledged as bidden, the men shook hands, and Edgar eyed the pommel with astonishment. Father Ignatius beamed, and it was evident to Anna that possession of such a prize had only raised his estimation of Bartholomew.
“What has happened, Anna?” Edgar asked when all was agreed.
“Percy and I robbed this knight’s company, then Percy was captured by Gaultier along with the spoils.” Anna nodded at Bartholomew. “He and his company took me into Haynesdale, in disguise, that we might retrieve both.”
“What company?” asked Willa.
“They have ridden on without him. Father Ignatius aided our escape with Percy, but the stolen item is yet in the keep.”
“As is one of their men,” Percy contributed. “We must save them both, then the knight will leave us.”
Edgar nodded. “We heard the knights ride out from Haynesdale in pursuit. They take the road to Carlisle.”
“They pursue my fellows,” Bartholomew agreed.
“Norton and Piers followed, to discover what they do.” Edgar referred to the two older sons of the plowman, Wallace, who remained in the village with his wife. “I suspect they will ride to the boundaries of Haynesdale, then return. We must be vigilant that we are not discovered.”
“You are welcome here,” Anna said to Bartholomew. “But we will wait for the boys to tell us that the knights are back at the keep before there will be a fire.”
“A fire is the least of my concerns.” Bartholomew bowed to Edgar and then to Anna. “I thank you both.”
Anna was amused to see his courtly manners in the midst of the forest, but she was more amused by his reaction when the others revealed themselves. Willa and Edgar’s three children were first to erupt from their hiding places, their oldest boy—who was of an age with Percy—demanding the full tale from his friend. Esme herself came forward, surrounded by her chickens, and gave Anna a hug. Father Ignatius was dispensing blessings, and greeting those he had not seen in two years.
Lucan the cooper and his wife Bernia stepped forward, their daughter fast behind them for she was uncommonly shy. Rowe the carpenter was as hearty as ever, shaking Father Ignatius’ hand, his red hair gleaming in the sun. His sister, Ceara, as fiery-haired as he, fingered the cloth of Anna’s kirtle in open admiration. Aidan the merchant asked to see Bartholomew’s blade after they were introduced, and it was clear that he was impressed by it. His wife, Mayda, joined Ceara and explained the merit of Anna’s garb to her daughters, Edyth and Ravyn.
Bartholomew was clearly astonished as more people revealed themselves. Norton and Piers were gone, as discussed, but their younger brother Sloane came into the clearing with Stewart the alemaker and his wife Moira, and their brood of five noisy children. The new arrivals were surrounded, and the welcome was warm.
As much as she enjoyed their return, and that Father Ignatius came with them, Anna’s gaze was drawn repeatedly to Bartholomew. He was clearly astonished by the number of villagers who had taken refuge in Haynesdale’s forest. Any concern she might have felt that he would see them as outcasts and criminals, that he might reveal them or worse, was quickly dispelled. Not only had he given his word, but he was amiable to all who spoke with him. He indulged the curiosity of the children and shook hands with the men. They continued as one to the sheltered area where they gathered in the evenings, and Anna saw his gaze rove over the platforms in the trees. He doubtless noted the number of villagers who carried bows slung over their backs and quivers of arrows made when all was quiet in the forest.
“I will guess that you taught them to shoot,” he said, his smile revealing his opinion of that.
“We must defend ourselves.”
He sobered. “Against your liege lord. It is not right that he should compel you to defend yourselves thus, Anna.”
She smiled that he did not insist that Sir Royce had the right to do whatsoever he desired. “Nay, it is not.”
“How long have they been here? Since that fire two years ago?”
Anna nodded. “Before that, we were taxed heavily and shown little consideration, but all went awry then.”
“And the villagers fled, and the forest was burned,” he mused. “What changed?”
Anna dropped her gaze, not prepared to reveal her role in that. “Much.”
Bartholomew considered her for a long moment, but then he helped Father Ignatius to distribute what bread he had brought. It was received with enthusiasm, and Father Ignatius professed that he would welcome an egg. There had been few at the keep or in the village since Esme had reclaimed her chickens.
“I would like to deny Sir Royce more than an egg!” the older woman declared with gusto and the villagers murmured assent.
Anna watched Bartholomew and felt a pride in how well they had survived in the forest. He returned to her side with a piece of bread and shared it with her, then turned a bright gaze upon her. “Why do they follow you?”
“Of what import is it to you?” she asked, trying to deflect his curiosity.
“A matter of curiosity. What claim do you have to lead the villagers of Haynesdale?” he murmured, his gaze roving over her. “You must have one. There are men in this company, and if you are their equal, they would choose a leader from amongst themselves.”
